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She raises one hand, palm forward towards me. The other stays wrapped tightly around a stack of books. Her voice is a low whisper as she says, “Sorry to scare you, Viola. I’m Plume. I’m a friend of Zeph’s.”
I lower my knife but keep my stance ready for a fight. I nod, acknowledging her, but snarl, “Plume, Tulip and I are in the middle of something. So, if you’d please…” I wave my blade, shooing her away. She winces in embarrassment.
I give her a once over, my eyes tracking from head to toe. Her cheeks are round and soft, and her body is curved in lovely places. She’s not slim - she looks comfortable and sensual.
She steels herself, and then asks softly, “You were looking at the connection, right?” Tulip and I shoot each other confused glances. “The connection, it’s where we view the Race,” she continues. My spine stiffens at her words.
“Yeah, we were realizing what monsters the fae are for making entertainment of our suffering.”
To my surprise, Plume nods. “I don’t have a connection in my home. My responsibilities as a Seasonale necessitate watching some of the Race, but it has never sat right with me that we allow all to view it, if I’m being honest.”
My body loosens slightly, and I feel Tulip’s stance change under my arm. “Why not speak up about it?” Tulip whispers.
Plume thinks on it, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. “Many have. It’s been something that has gone on since the start of the Race. Ultimately, the fae are voyeuristic by nature, and any talks of removing it get struck down quickly.”
It doesn’t make me feel any better about the situation. “What responsibilities could require you to watch the Race?”
Her shocked expression tells me I asked the right question. “I can’t answer that, Viola. I’m sorry. Perhaps you could ask Zeph. He has the authority to release that information, but I don’t.”
Surprisingly, I do not feel the trepidation towards Zeph that I did at first. After spending some time with him last night, he’s better than I initially thought he would be. He’s handsome and intelligent, and there is a kindness to him that I cannot deny. He reminds me a lot of Link when I really think about it.
The connection explains why Mace has been careful to dress Tulip and me up as fae to avoid detection. Everyone here has watched us suffer.
Had Zeph watched our suffering? Had he bet on me to win?
And even worse, had Mace?
Why did neither of them tell me?
I clear my head of thoughts of the brothers and focus my attention back on Plume. She stretches the books she was holding out to me. “I brought you these. Zeph mentioned you were curious to know more about Winter magic. This is a tome on Himureal himself. And this one is a diary from the last known Winter Seasonale. Well, until you, that is.”
I cringe at her label of me as a Seasonale but reach out and pull the books into my hands. “Oh, thank you, I suppose.” In just a day in Ytopie, I have accepted more help than I had in my entire life in Dalery. It makes my skin tighten with fear, but what choice do I have? I am in a foreign city at the mercy of the fae, with no money, no home, and no friends.
As soon as I think that, I know it’s not true. I sneak a glance at Tulip, and my heart warms.
Tulip grabs my arm and shoots Plume what barely passes for a nasty look. “Come on, Lola. I am suddenly quite tired of what Ytopie has to offer us.” I allow Tulip to drag me back to the Palace. A brief glance over my shoulder shows Plume watching me with a soft, sad smile.
Chapter 34
Viola
Afterwhatfeltlikeages of reading through the books Plume gave me, my body tight from disuse, I realize I still need to go meet Mace. I stand and stretch out my limbs and then slide into my boots. Tulip, her head hanging upside down over the side of her bed, smiles at me. “Are you heading to see the other half of the brooding brothers?” she cajoles.
My smile creeps across my face while I roll my eyes at her. “They’re a moody lot, and that’s coming from me,” I say.
I’d filled Tulip in on my pre-Race interaction with Mace since we arrived, but she seemed much more partial to Zeph. “Mace is beautiful, but he makes my blood run cold,” she had said.
I don’t disagree. Something about him is covertly sinister, an undercurrent of manipulation in everything he says. He makes me feel like any control I have is an illusion.
I climb the stairs from the basement up onto the main hall of the Palace, eventually finding my way to Mace’s office. The Palace is empty, with only a few fae milling about as the day wanes into the evening.
His door is open slightly, so I knock as I slide through the opening. He looks up and pins me with his bright green eyes, twins to Zeph’s. He folds his hands across his desk and looks at me. “Miss - Ah, Viola. Welcome. I wondered if you were going to come.” I shrug nonchalantly and slide into a chair at the front of his desk, not waiting for an invitation.
I toss my boots onto the surface of his desk, and his eyes narrow at them. Knowing I’ve affected his calm demeanor gives me a rush, and I push back so the chair balances on two legs. I watch his jaw clench and he leans forward, both hands on the desktop, about to chastise me when I interrupt. “I got caught up reading a few books. Zeph sent me books on Himureal and a journal from the last Winter Seasonale to study.”
Mace visibly bristles at my mention of his brother. “Spending time with Zeph, are you?”
Was that jealousy in his voice? The thought of that sends a trickle of satisfaction through my veins. “I ran into him in the courtyard last night, so we returned to his place. We talked about magic and how it works. I haven’t had much exposure, and he seems convinced I have Winter magic, so… Why not learn?”
