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Only the one time, Ms. Securia had said a few hours ago, before heading off to the Temple of Mesti to observe the Sable Moon Sanctum.
Teigra considered herself in the mirror, wondering whether this was the costume Ms. Securia had worn to the Great Grove, so confident in herself, when she had plucked the cursed rose.
She’d been wrong about her. When she’d first arrived, she’d thought her a monster—just another bitter disciplinarian. Just like Mother.
But she was more than that.
She was someone who’d risked it all for love and had to bear the solitude of that risk. Someone who’d been rejected for where she came from, but still served her polity loyally. Someone who didn’t care if others thought it old-fashioned to spend the sable moon in commune with the goddess. She was a strong figure, with strong morals, who was difficult to get close to.
Just like Calix.
Just like her future husband.
Just like the future king of Ardora.
And from this night, she would be his princess.
And one day, his queen...
She laughed at the thought of such grand titles being applied to her.
Princess Teigra?
Queen Teigra?
She smiled from deep within herself, taking the pendant and laying the twist of pegasus hair among the beads at her chest. It wasn’t correct for the look, but she felt naked without it.
It isn’t the way either of us imagined it, Da. But it looks like we made it.
She struck a pose at the top of the stairs. She felt a little self-conscious, but she’d been assured by everyone in the agora that restraint was not the style of the evening.
She wasn’t surprised to see that Aurelius was not wearing a matching eidolon costume. Blending in and paying tribute to Mestibes? For Aurelius? That would never do.
Instead, he wore an obscenely short green-blue tunic, a gold belt, and a long cloak over the top, covered with blue-indigo feathers. The cloak was cut down the middle, all the way up to his shoulder blades and tied around each bare biceps. It wasn’t quite as literal as she might have expected, but the inspiration was clear.
He was a siren: the therian of Ondo. A beast of trickery and deception and allure.
“Well, don’t you look the part, darling!” he said, sweeping his “wings” with a thwump.
Darling? She couldn’t remember when he’d last called her that.
“As do you! Although dressing as a beast that lures men to their ruin through dark temptations?”
“A little on the nose?”
“For this party, it might be perfect!” The sounds of the street were already filtering in, laughter and songs and dancing. “Shall we wait by the gate?”
“That may appear a little too keen?”
He was right. Besides, the water clock showed it was still a way before ten—the hour that Calix was to pick her up.
“No Jaspar?” Aurelius asked.
“He says he needs to keep working.”
Things were fine between her and Jaspar now, though the minotaur had been unable to hide the sadness on his face when she’d told him the big news of what this night held.
Aurelius plucked a jug from the table. “Well, never mind that. Fancy a little something to take the nerves away?”
