Laurel looked back to make sure Tamani was following and gave him a quick smile when he met her eyes.
“You brought him?” Katya said in a whisper.
“Of course,” Laurel said at full volume.
Katya smiled, only a little tightly. “Silly of me. You certainly need a guide. You’ve never been to one of these. I should have thought. I’ll see you after the show, okay?” Katya waved happily, then turned and disappeared into a small group of faeries, most of whom Laurel recognized from the Academy. A few of them were staring at her unashamedly. She had been so busy looking at the scenery that she hadn’t noticed the faeries in the mezzanine stealing long looks at her and Tamani. It took her a moment to realize why.
Katya and Mara weren’t the only ones in full bloom. The blossoms dotting the mezzanine were small and unassuming compared with those Laurel had seen this summer, tending toward single colors and simple shapes, like hers. But they were all in bloom; every single female Fall.
Except her.
Laurel thought about the temperature in Avalon; it was a little bit cooler than when she had been there in the summer, but only just. She wondered how the faeries’ bodies knew when to bloom. Was it the angle of the sun? The slight changes in temperature? It did make sense that Avalon’s temperate weather would delay autumn blooming—and maybe prolong blossoming—but for how long? Laurel made a mental note to find out more about blossoming when she was in Avalon next summer. Until then, she could only conclude that something was different between Avalon and Crescent City. Two days earlier, two degrees higher, and maybe she wouldn’t have felt so out of place.
Lifting her chin resolutely, Laurel walked to the edge of the balcony. She touched Tamani’s arm and looked down at his hands. Sure enough, at some point he had pulled on a pair of black velvety gloves. Even he had noticed. Refusing to dwell on it, Laurel looked at the main floor below her, turning her attention from the decorations to the faeries themselves. Their apparel was much plainer and Laurel didn’t see many sparkles of jewelry, but the Spring faeries looked completely happy. Hugs were shared, children were caught up in embraces, greetings exchanged, and even from her spot so far above, peals of laughter found their way to Laurel’s ears.
“Are they all Spring faeries?” Laurel asked.
“Most of them,” Tamani said. “There are a few Summer faeries who are too young to perform, but most of the Summer faeries are involved in the show.”
“Is…” She hesitated. “Is Rowen down there?”
“Somewhere. With my sister.”
Laurel nodded, not knowing what else to say. She hadn’t considered that accompanying her meant Tamani wouldn’t be able to sit with his family. A familiar guilt filled her. It was too easy to believe that Tamani lived only for her, that his life did not exist at all except where it intersected her own. To forget that there were other people who loved him.
The buzz of the crowd changed abruptly, and the faeries below the mezzanine all looked up with an air of anticipation.
Laurel felt Tamani’s hand around her arm and suddenly he was half escorting, half dragging her to a seat several rows farther away from the center of the mezzanine. “This should be the Winter faeries,” Tamani whispered. “Jamison, Yasmine, and Her Majesty, Queen Marion.”
Laurel’s throat tightened as she turned away from Tamani, her attention—like all the other faeries—on the archway at the top of the mezzanine. She wasn’t sure whether she was more surprised that there were only three, or that there were as many as three. She’d only ever considered Jamison and the elusive Queen before.
An entourage of guards in sky-blue uniforms came through first; Laurel recognized them from the last time she’d seen Jamison. They were followed immediately by Jamison himself, dressed in deep green robes with his usual twinkling smile. He was escorting a young girl who looked about twelve, her smooth, ebony skin and carefully arranged ringlets setting off an extremely formal gown of pale purple silk. Then the entire coliseum seemed to breathe in all at once as the Queen entered.
She was wearing a shimmering white dress with a train of glittering threading that curled up from the ground in the soft breeze. Her hair was jet black and streamed down her back in soft waves that reached just past her waist. A delicate crystal crown balanced atop her head with strings of diamonds attached that fell into her curls and glimmered in the sunlight.
But it was her face Laurel focused on.
Pale green eyes surveyed the crowd. Although Laurel knew the face would be considered beautiful by any fashion magazine’s standards, she couldn’t get past the pursed lips, the tiny furrow between her eyes, the slight lift of one eyebrow as if she were loathe to acknowledge the deep bows that everyone around her had dropped into.
Including Tamani.
Which left Laurel alone standing straight up.
She hurried to bow like everyone else before the Queen saw her. It apparently worked; the Queen’s gaze fluttered over the crowd without pausing, and within seconds, the Fall faeries had resumed their upright stances and their buzzing conversations.
Marion turned with a whispering flutter of her gown and walked to the dais, where three ornate seats sat in prominence over the others. Laurel watched Jamison take the little girl’s hand, helping her up the steps and into a fluffy chair at the Queen’s left. Laurel caught his eye and he smiled and whispered something to the little girl before turning and approaching them. The crowd didn’t stop talking or laughing as Jamison passed by, but they subtly shifted out of his way, clearing a path.
“You brought him?” Katya said in a whisper.
“Of course,” Laurel said at full volume.
Katya smiled, only a little tightly. “Silly of me. You certainly need a guide. You’ve never been to one of these. I should have thought. I’ll see you after the show, okay?” Katya waved happily, then turned and disappeared into a small group of faeries, most of whom Laurel recognized from the Academy. A few of them were staring at her unashamedly. She had been so busy looking at the scenery that she hadn’t noticed the faeries in the mezzanine stealing long looks at her and Tamani. It took her a moment to realize why.
Katya and Mara weren’t the only ones in full bloom. The blossoms dotting the mezzanine were small and unassuming compared with those Laurel had seen this summer, tending toward single colors and simple shapes, like hers. But they were all in bloom; every single female Fall.
Except her.
Laurel thought about the temperature in Avalon; it was a little bit cooler than when she had been there in the summer, but only just. She wondered how the faeries’ bodies knew when to bloom. Was it the angle of the sun? The slight changes in temperature? It did make sense that Avalon’s temperate weather would delay autumn blooming—and maybe prolong blossoming—but for how long? Laurel made a mental note to find out more about blossoming when she was in Avalon next summer. Until then, she could only conclude that something was different between Avalon and Crescent City. Two days earlier, two degrees higher, and maybe she wouldn’t have felt so out of place.
Lifting her chin resolutely, Laurel walked to the edge of the balcony. She touched Tamani’s arm and looked down at his hands. Sure enough, at some point he had pulled on a pair of black velvety gloves. Even he had noticed. Refusing to dwell on it, Laurel looked at the main floor below her, turning her attention from the decorations to the faeries themselves. Their apparel was much plainer and Laurel didn’t see many sparkles of jewelry, but the Spring faeries looked completely happy. Hugs were shared, children were caught up in embraces, greetings exchanged, and even from her spot so far above, peals of laughter found their way to Laurel’s ears.
“Are they all Spring faeries?” Laurel asked.
“Most of them,” Tamani said. “There are a few Summer faeries who are too young to perform, but most of the Summer faeries are involved in the show.”
“Is…” She hesitated. “Is Rowen down there?”
“Somewhere. With my sister.”
Laurel nodded, not knowing what else to say. She hadn’t considered that accompanying her meant Tamani wouldn’t be able to sit with his family. A familiar guilt filled her. It was too easy to believe that Tamani lived only for her, that his life did not exist at all except where it intersected her own. To forget that there were other people who loved him.
The buzz of the crowd changed abruptly, and the faeries below the mezzanine all looked up with an air of anticipation.
Laurel felt Tamani’s hand around her arm and suddenly he was half escorting, half dragging her to a seat several rows farther away from the center of the mezzanine. “This should be the Winter faeries,” Tamani whispered. “Jamison, Yasmine, and Her Majesty, Queen Marion.”
Laurel’s throat tightened as she turned away from Tamani, her attention—like all the other faeries—on the archway at the top of the mezzanine. She wasn’t sure whether she was more surprised that there were only three, or that there were as many as three. She’d only ever considered Jamison and the elusive Queen before.
An entourage of guards in sky-blue uniforms came through first; Laurel recognized them from the last time she’d seen Jamison. They were followed immediately by Jamison himself, dressed in deep green robes with his usual twinkling smile. He was escorting a young girl who looked about twelve, her smooth, ebony skin and carefully arranged ringlets setting off an extremely formal gown of pale purple silk. Then the entire coliseum seemed to breathe in all at once as the Queen entered.
She was wearing a shimmering white dress with a train of glittering threading that curled up from the ground in the soft breeze. Her hair was jet black and streamed down her back in soft waves that reached just past her waist. A delicate crystal crown balanced atop her head with strings of diamonds attached that fell into her curls and glimmered in the sunlight.
But it was her face Laurel focused on.
Pale green eyes surveyed the crowd. Although Laurel knew the face would be considered beautiful by any fashion magazine’s standards, she couldn’t get past the pursed lips, the tiny furrow between her eyes, the slight lift of one eyebrow as if she were loathe to acknowledge the deep bows that everyone around her had dropped into.
Including Tamani.
Which left Laurel alone standing straight up.
She hurried to bow like everyone else before the Queen saw her. It apparently worked; the Queen’s gaze fluttered over the crowd without pausing, and within seconds, the Fall faeries had resumed their upright stances and their buzzing conversations.
Marion turned with a whispering flutter of her gown and walked to the dais, where three ornate seats sat in prominence over the others. Laurel watched Jamison take the little girl’s hand, helping her up the steps and into a fluffy chair at the Queen’s left. Laurel caught his eye and he smiled and whispered something to the little girl before turning and approaching them. The crowd didn’t stop talking or laughing as Jamison passed by, but they subtly shifted out of his way, clearing a path.
