Page 65 of Liar Witch
It doesn’t take long for me to realise what my sisters have planned. My mind can’t focus on the intricate conversation my mother and Adella are having beside me. Instead, I’m focused on the source of the noise.
My mate and sisters.
“On the table!”
“Work it, Witch!”
“Fuck, you can set that on fire?”
At that last one, the Empress is forced to intervene.
“Girls, no fire in mywoodenhall.”
I can’t hold my grin anymore. The moment it escapes, it’s like my eyes take it as permission to dart upwards.
Nilsa is standing on a table, dancing back to back with Cassie, Lexi and Melia. Her hair is alight with moonlight, forming a crown that has the rest of the room spellbound even as silver flames lick along the hem of her dress and up her legs before disappearing completely.
She’s radiant. A Goddess in a league all her own.
Mine.
Everything in me screams out that truth. My throat tightens, wanting to sing for her. Lure her to me. Make her mine.
I force my head down before anyone notices, mashing my lips together to keep silent.
It takes a few deep breaths and cautious glances towards my mother—who’s still focused intently on Adella—to give me the courage to look up again.
The looseness of their movements tells me exactly how drunk they are. Even Cassie, who never touches a drink at these parties, is singing an old war song, off-key at the top of her lungs. It’s the most fun I’ve ever seen her have.
Normally she sits apart from the rest of our sisters, almost as much of an afterthought as I am.
Strange how it sometimes takes an outsider to bridge the divide between people.
Nilsa is our missing piece.
Why can our mother not see that the vibrant witch dancing on the table is a better fit for me than the dour soldier muttering into her ear?
They don’t stop. My sisters and Nilsa are still partying long after many of the other guests have approached my mother to say their goodbyes.
“Drink! Drink! Drink!”
I dare a third glance up at their table, only to find a pair of legs blocking my view.
My eyes snap back to the floor like magnets.
“Perhaps another glass of oyster wine, Empress?”
“I make an effort never to cloud my senses with too much.” My mother’s words are even, calculated. “I look forward to watching you in the arena tomorrow, Adella.”
Recognising the dismissal for what it is, Adella bows and leaves without hesitating. Her red hair is so long that it dips into my field of vision with the motion.
I wait for my mother’s admonishment, some reprimand for looking up.
But it doesn’t come.
She gives a long sigh, feet never moving.
“Selenka, please summon Lexi to escort him back to the waters, then leave him in her care.” She pauses as the guard approaches. “Then see to it that the witch is brought to my balcony. I’ve not had a chance to converse with her.”
