Page 150 of Children of Fallen Gods

I made a noncommittal noise and looked for escape.

“Of course, it is a shame…” The man’s voice lowered — poorly — as he leaned towards me conspiratorially. “A bit of a waste, isn’t it? Such a great victory for a nameless king. Did you know his mother was a whore?”

Amazing. They hated Zeryth for all the wrong things.

“Actually, Lord Quinlan,” I said, “some might say the onlygoodthing about Aldris is that he doesn’t come from—”

I was interrupted as an arm delicately slid around mine. “There you are. I thought you would have skipped.”

I turned. Whatever barbed words I’d been preparing left me all at once.

Ascended above. That woman did know how to make an entrance.

Tisaanah wore a gown unlike anything that I’d ever seen before. It was deep red — of course — and accented with gold embroidery, which lined the double-breasted bodice that resembled the cut of a military jacket. The shoulders were sharp, and the sleeves open, exposing burgundy silk gloves that reached her elbows. A thick gold belt cinched her waist, and below it the dress fell to a layered skirt that gradually darkened to black. It was open in the front, revealing heeled, polished boots that laced to her knees.

I cocked an eyebrow. Tisaanah gave me a sweet smile.

What a show-off.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she purred. “But we are late for a very important meeting.”

My eyebrows arched in exaggerated surprise. “Ascended, you’re right, itdoesseem like the right time to be late for a very important meeting.” I gave Quinlan a tight smile. “It was a pleasure, sir.”

We didn’t give him time to say anything more. Tisaanah and I strode across the ballroom, her arm casually resting over mine.

“You were about to say something very rude to that man,” she said.

“You couldn’t even hear me.”

“I didn’t need to.”

“He deserved it.”

“I’m sure he did.”

She smiled at me — a real smile, not the delicate act she had given Quinlan. I wondered if she realized how much the intensity of it outshone her performances. Combined with the rest of her appearance tonight, that smile made her look as if she could conquer worlds.

I caught a glimpse of the two of us in one of the long mirrors on the other side of the room, and realized that we complimented each other perfectly. I wore a double-breasted military jacket, rendered in dark violet, with red and gold in the trim and at the cuffs. Her outfit looked as if it could be the brighter, more feminine mate to mine.

Damn. She really thought of everything.

Her eyes met mine in the mirror.

“You are staring. Do you like my dress?”

“I don’t know. It’s a bit conventional.” I glanced at a nobleman who wasn’t even bothering to hide his rubbernecking. “Surprised you didn’t go for something a little more attention-grabbing.”

“You know me. So shy.”

She batted her eyelashes, and I rolled my eyes.

The truth was, every set of eyes slid towards her, some in subtle glances, some in outright stares. Tisaanah soaked up their attention, but those looks made my jaw clench.

This was different from the Orders’ ball. That night, she had dressed to show off her scars and force members of the Orders to acknowledge the brutality of what had happened to her. Tonight? Tonight she dressed to appear powerful, playing off the whispers of what people had said about her — aboutus— in the wake of the battle. And yes, there was some admiration in these looks. But there was also fear and petty judgement.

This, after all, was high society. And while even the most snobbish members of the Orders could begrudgingly admire skill no matter where it came from, high society feared what was different and judged what they deemed to be inferior. And there wasnothingthey hated more than someone who “didn’t know their place.”

I hear she was a slave,they’d whisper.A whore, even. Can you imagine? A whore girl serving our beggar king? How funny. How fitting…

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