Annoying eyes followed her wherever she went.

After her spat with Dolly, Zara just wanted to be left by herself. The ever-so familiar fatigue was plaguing her again, begging that she go find her bed this instant and never get up from it again.

“Is that her?”

“Obviously. She’s, like, a cousin of mine apparently? A distant one from Auntie’s side of the family.”

“Seriously? I’m surprised she’s showing her face.”

“She feels famous.”

“Famous in the worst way though. Why are you saying it like it’s good?”

“I can’t believe you are related to her. What do you really think of her?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think I might be related to her, too…a little.”

“It’s strange how we never met this family before today.”

“Yes. Why is Dolly having her party here? With a bunch of nobodies in the middle of nowhere.”

“And with her here. Some still believe she’s the curse. I think I do.”

“Shhh! She’ll hear you.”

Did these people think that she didn’t have ears?

Curse them then. They think I’m the curse? I can one day show them exactly what that is!

She didn’t have the training for it yet. She made a mental note to ask Revan about it. The more she sifted through this party, the more she felt that, perhaps, learning some dark magic wouldn’t be so horrible. She simply wouldn’t go overboard with it.

Zara walked past the inane gossip and made it back inside the house. She trudged upstairs, down the hall, pushed opened her bedroom door and—

“Sh!” A random slim girl with slanted eyes and sleek brown hair—looked to be a few years younger than Zara—was sitting on the bed. She wore heavy gold jewelry and floral designed skirt and blouse. An infant lay on a pillow next to her.

“What are you doing? Can’t you see my baby is trying to sleep?” the girl scolded in a hushed voice.

What the fuck.

“This is my bedroom,” Zara informed her, nervously.

“And I’m using it. As a guest of your home? …Don’t you know anything, why do you look so confused?”

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”

The girl rudely rolled her eyes. It seemed that much of Dolly’s guests were rude and unpleasant. Zara wanted this one out, but she couldn’t say anything. She was too tired to. Also, she was clearly missing a guest custom she was supposed to know about. Maybe she was the rude one here. But then again, this young mother had unapologetically taken over Zara’s room.

“Wow. You really don’t know much of anything then. Do me a favor and keep your voice down. My baby’s starting to fuss.” Even though the baby wasn’t even moving. “You’ll have your room back soon, don’t worry.” She said this in such a condescending tone that Zara was tempted to loudly slam the door shut behind her.

Instead, she wordlessly stepped out of what she had always considered her private sanctuary and lingered down the hall, out of place in her own crowded house. Each bedroom was occupied, though her parents’ bedroom remained shut. Zara assumed her father had locked it. But the other three, including Zara’s own, were swarmed with guests. Playing children, chatty women, and a single bitchy girl with a baby.

Zara didn’t know of any stupid custom that simply allowed guests to take over private rooms. Her parents had locked up theirs to prevent entry, after all! But maybe, besides the master suite, other areas of a house were free to roam? She’d never heard of this, not even Noina taught her anything about it. Maybe the culture varied by region? These people weren’t all from Pria.

Whatever. Zara was off the circle on many customs, she figured that much. Naturally, she would be. But her lack of knowledge was starting to bite her. It made her want to never see another group of people ever again.

Weary and suffocated by children and adults dashing everywhere, Zara went back outside. Dolly’s entourage had moved on elsewhere, abandoning their quilt and whatever left lying on it. Zara’s eyes felt heavy. She’d been up way too early, way too eager, all for nothing.

She meandered through people, ignoring the stares, sighing at the whispers. The outdoor stables had to be vacant, for it was further away from the house, and therefore the rest of the party. It was a sound thought.

But the stables were not, in fact, as empty as Zara thought it would be. She heard voices, and one of the two horses snorted.

“Ew!” A high pitched giggle ensued right after.

Zara turned the corner and saw two unexpected—but not unfamiliar—faces.

“Oh, Zara!” Cina cried out, skipping over to her as carefully as she could in her long skirt and low heels. “I’ve been meaning to come talk to you earlier but you were always surrounded. I didn’t want to bother you. So I went and bothered your little brother instead.”

“Can you stop calling me little?” Rowan said. He awkwardly stood near the wood fence. One of the horses nudged him with its muzzle. The other had gone to snack on some hay.

“I’m sorry, it slipped out,” Cina replied back with a cheeky grin.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” Zara stammered, not sure whether she meant what Cina specifically was doing out here, or why Rowan was out here too, or both. She remembered Emran talking about the personal invitation Cina’s family had received but Zara hadn’t even seen them arrive. She’d likely been too absorbed with Dolly and her posse at the time, just as Cina had suggested.

“I mean, when did you arrive?” Zara quickly restated.

“Hmm, it’s been a while now.” Cina giggled. “I’m not entirely sure. Maybe when the sun was a bit-tiny-bit higher?”

She seemed especially giddy today. More giddy than her customer-driven cashier persona. Though perhaps she was always like this? Zara wouldn’t really know.

“Oh, that makes sense. I’m sorry I didn’t see you—”

“No no don’t be, you were with the bride-to-be. She’s your cousin, right?” Cina shrugged. “My family’s just here because your parents invited us. We’re no big deal. Just willing to enjoy a good time, if you allow us.”

Zara paled at the mention of her family. It reminded her of a man she’d rather never see again. “Oh…is it just you and your parents? Or is your…uncle here too?”

Cina grazed her hand down Zara’s arm, as a gesture of sympathetic reassurance. “He isn’t coming; he usually doesn’t join such parties like this anyway. And he wasn’t with us when your parents invited us, so he hadn’t gotten a direct invite. It would be brash of him to come.”

“Oh…okay,” Zara said, suddenly relieved to have run into Cina and hearing that Uqzar was keeping his distance. “I’m glad you’re here. You look so nice by the way.” She was so pretty in teal green and a curly updo. Her shawl hung loosely to her side, and the blouse revealed enough skin to have surely pique her younger brother’s interest, seeing as how he’d been smiling at her a lot before Zara interrupted them.

Cina grinned. “So do you! Love the jewelry. Simple and timeless. I think you look sweet whenever I see you, really.”

Zara’s mood was truly lightened for the first time since meeting the new and engaged Dolly. “Oh, how is your father?” she asked, concealing her guilt. “Is his head condition any better?”

“Much better. He’s here, you know. We should find him, and my mother. Then we can formally introduce. Last time we met was a bit…”

“Chaotic,” Zara finished in a quiet voice.

Rowan let out an agitated huff.

Cina narrowed her eyes at him. “Crabby today, aren’t you?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” he stated sarcastically.

She smiled teasingly. “Are you wearing off?”

Rowan straightened off the wood fence with a deep frown that wrinkled his forehead. “Keep quiet, will you?”

Zara looked between them, puzzled by their obscure talk. “So, are you two friends now?” she asked.

Cina snorted. “You could say that. Rowan and I met at—”

“Ruvini’s,” Zara finished the sentence without meaning to.

Cina turned to her, perplexed. Rowan looked the same.

“How did you know that?” Cina said, then shook her head as though she realized something vastly important. “Ohhhh, wait a minute, did Emran tell you then?”

“Emran?” Rowan cut in. “How? And tell her what? And again…how?”

Oh…shit.

Cina turned back to Rowan to explain. “Oh it’s just that Emran told me he ran into Zara the other morn-ophh—”

Shaking her head rapidly, Zara had to reach out from behind Cina and clasp her hand against Cina’s mouth to keep her from saying more. She had already said more than enough, judging by Rowan’s wide-eyed surprise.

She could feel Cina’s breath hitting her palm. Zara also couldn’t remember the last time she had hugged someone from behind like this—probably never. The contact was an odd sensation, something only reserved for people who were…close, maybe.

“Wait, huh?” Rowan said.

Cina threw Zara’s arm off, and Zara carelessly let her, unable to shake off the alien feeling she was having.

“Whoooaaa, I was saying too much, wasn’t I?” Cina said, laughing very loudly. “Yes yes. I was revealing too much, much too much in front of the little brother over here—”

“I told you not to—”

“It’s nothing Rowan,” Zara cut in.

“I wasn’t talking to you!” Rowan growled. “Where the fuck were you able to meet that guy? When you never leave the fucking house?”

Zara swallowed dryly. “Wh-What about you?” she managed to counter back. “You were in town when you weren’t supposed to be?”

“So the fuck what? I do it all the time and you know it. Unlike you, I have people to see out there.”

“That’s harsh,” Cina snapped at him angrily. “She has me you know.”

Zara felt her heart swell a little over Cina defending her. No one ever truly did.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “So, what, Zara? What are you gonna do? Rat on me for sneaking out? Because I can just do it right back in this case—”

“No!” Zara shouted. “I just want to drop this subject, you weren’t supposed to fucking hear it!”

Cina sneered devilishly at Rowan. “Mhm, your older sister has quite the scandalous life outside those walls, you know.”

Rowan looked horrified. “What?!”

“Cina…”

“Zara, I’m glad you took my advice to get out more,” Cina went on, ignoring Rowan’s dismay and Zara’s whine. “You’re branching out. And it shows.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rowan said with a scrunched face.

“It means what it means.” Cina took Zara’s hand and began leading her away from the stables. Zara followed, the odd sensation of skin to skin touching jumping back in her gut again as she let Cina pull her.

“Cina,” Rowan called out.

“What?” Cina called back.

“Where are you going?” Irritation laced his voice.

Cina looked back at him with a sly smile. “Taking my friend away. I suggest you find yours. Shia should be here by now.”

“Shia?” Zara questioned stupidly.

“Yeah,” Rowan bit back. “What, did you think Ma wouldn’t invite him? She loves him, remember?”

“Almost more than her own little son, it seems,” Cina joked.

“That’s not true!”

“Oh, calm down, sniff another flower or something. Oh, thanks for the earlier one by the way.” She winked at his reddening face.

Zara felt a tug on her hand again. Cina was still holding it, and still pulling her away.

“I want to borrow Zara for a bit. We can all meet again later. I promise.”

“…Okay. Great. See you.” He sounded hopeful that Cina would keep her word.

As Zara skipped a step to keep up, she asked, “When did he become attached to you?”

Cina smiled secretively. “The night we met, I guess.”

Zara didn’t know what the smile meant, nor any other details of that night besides what Emran had relayed to her. She probably didn’t even want to know.

Shoving back nasty thoughts, Zara’s gaze traced down the smooth, pale skin of Cina’s arm, to the teal and green bangles on her wrist, and the hand that gripped hers tight.

Warmth filled Zara’s stomach, both pleasant and snide. Dolly was wrong. She was wrong because Zara’s life wasn’t so hollow that she didn’t have any friends at all.

She, at least, had one.

“I did not know you had it in you, Zara. Sneaking around with a man all into the night? Bad, bad girl.”

“I wasn’t doing that—”

“Oh? So was my cousin just seeing things?” Cina cocked her head in feign thought. “Hm. That wouldn’t surprise me, actually. But I know he talked to you. You made that much clear yourself. He saw you that morning, outside that tall man’s house. Not a bad looking man, is what he said. I could swear he was pouting about it, too.”

“Pouting?”

Cina nodded, linking her arm with Zara’s. They trudged across the grass back toward the house.

“Yeah. He seemed a bit down, but that could also have been his high wearing off at the time. But it only happened when he mentioned that man. Strange coincidence, is it not?” She snickered.

“Were you at his house that morning, then?”

“Hm? No?”

“But you mentioned his high wearing off? I assumed he told you when you saw him…”

“He’s always high.”

“Oh.” A mixture of discomfort and eagerness arose in Zara’s belly. “Well, did he mention anything else?”

“Not much. He seemed gloomy that he wasn’t able to get an invite to this party.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He had wanted to ask you about it but when your man came out of the house, he knew it wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

Zara had had an inkling about it whenever she thought back to that morning but she’d been so overwhelmed with everything else that it had flown over her head.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

It was regretful. It was very very regretful that she hadn’t thought to invite him herself.

“That man is not my man,” Zara defended herself.

Cina let out a humorous breath. “Sure. Is he here by the way? I want to see—” She twirled her head left and right and back dramatically.

Zara tugged her arm. “Stop. He’s not here.”

Cina’s lecherous grin was anxiety-inducing. “You really can’t deny his existence can you? What were you doing at a handsome man’s home so early in the morning? Please do tell me.”

Zara turned away. They were at the house now, walking down the path that would lead to the courtyard where the smell of food was the strongest, and the chatter and music the loudest. The musicians, along with a couple of the dancers, had moved a big chunk of the party over here.

“Can you tell me what else Emran told you?”

“Denied. You must go first.”

Zara’s cheeks felt hot and it probably showed. How pathetic. The wind blew suddenly cold, so she could not even blame it on the heat.

Cina giggled with excitement. “Zara, were you—oh!”

She stumbled. Luckily, Zara instinctively pulled Cina back before she tripped and completely fell over a sole crack in the pebbled ground, right in front of her feet.

“I…did not see that,” Cina breathed out, relieved she hadn’t hurt herself. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know. Strange.”

But Zara’s mind was too preoccupied to be worried about a random crevice on the ground. The truth couldn’t be told. But there was no lie she could come up with that would sound plausible and keep Cina’s mind off dirty implications. There was only one thing normal untied young women were assumed to do when they chose to spend an entire night at a man’s house. And it had nothing to do with learning the details of blood enchantments.

“Just…don’t mention anything to anyone else,” was all Zara could softly beg of her. “Please?”

Cina sighed, unlinking their arms and brushing her skirt off. “Fine. Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“But you’re going to have to tell me more about it later, got it? I’m not letting this go.”

“…Okay.” She would just have to make up a story of her supposed steamy excursion. Somehow. Some way.

“As for Emran, he did not say much else. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he forgot most of that morning. That’s why it’s so interesting to me how you stood out to him the way you did.” Her eyes gleamed. “Poor Emran, is all I have to say about that.”

Anxiety began to fall away, leaving behind a blooming hope. Her first impression on that man had been lame whenever Zara remembered it. She’d been awkward, her conversation style forced. It’s what she naturally fell into when nervous or meeting people that intimidated her. But Emran seemed to think differently, at least now he did. Cina was making it sound like he…

Desires my company?

Zara didn’t want to get ahead of herself. They barely knew each other. He was an outgoing social nightlife type. There were other women, plenty of whores out there too. He couldn’t have been in his right mind that morning. Cina misunderstood. He was just sad about not being invited to a party. That was all.

And then there was the problem of him seeing her with Revan at fucking dawn, and whatever he’d been thinking about that, he had made it loud and clear to Cina.

The hope began to whither. The air grew cold again.

Cina shivered, holding her arms. “There’s a wind here. Let’s get to the courtyard, quick. The cooking fires should warm us up.”

Zara paid no mind to the chill, but led Cina to their destination without protest.

After some contemplation, Rowan took a smaller piece of his petal this time before giving the horses one last petting and leaving the stables behind. Cina had teased him out of some of his because she had stupidly forgot to bring her own. She promised she’d make it up to him with another “discount”—among other things. Maybe.

She was a tease. A sensual tease. So he didn’t deny her.

Rowan liked the idea of older women, especially ones like Cina. They didn’t shy away from anything, and they looked good. That was more important than anything else, in his opinion. Oh, and kindness would also be important, he guessed. A lot of girls his age were alright; he could describe them as cute. But Cina wasn’t a girl, she was a woman, and she was mature in many ways already. Cina was desirable, and actually seemed to be interested in someone like him, for whatever reason. She saw past his physical flaws, at the very least, which made her worth wanting. For that, he would stomach her friendship with Zara.

Zara who, apparently, had her own weird affairs going on within the shadows of the night. That was definitely what Cina had implied, and he wished she hadn’t. Rowan could just about vomit.

If only the men or whoever she’s with knew exactly what she was.

Shrugging off the guilty thought, he strolled over to the front of the house, his mood already lighter. Shia was leaning by the gate, gazing over a girl he was talking to. A girl that looked to be his own age.

Wait until he hears about me.

Smirking, he gave his best friend a wave.

Cina was a friend. Zara convinced herself of it. The question was whether she could be considered a good one. Zara wanted to believe she was. Right now, she most definitely was. That was what tore at her. Because the truth would change it all in an instant.

“Do you have something to say?” Cina snapped at a young group of guests who had been whispering and laughing behind Zara’s back.

The group consisted of four girls, two boys, and one small baby huddled over a mat at a cozy spot in the corner of the courtyard, against the house’s outer walls. The parlor doors were a few feet behind where Cina and Zara stood, confronting the gossips in front of them. Or, at least, Cina chose to do the confronting.

“No,” one of the boys said with a blatantly nasty attitude. He had an orange stripe across his thin black hair.

“You are being rude. Tell us what you were hissing on about directly, or tell it to my wrist when it snaps back into your face.”

The other boy—a well-dressed but scrawny thing with big front teeth—stood up and sauntered over to her, scanning her body condescendingly. “What should I care about your thoughts on the matter?” he said. “That woman standing beside you acted foolishly, almost heinously—everyone’s discussed it by now. A tasteless thing like you shouldn’t be thinking of laying her hands on me unless it’s for other things—”

The slap Cina landed on him echoed.

“Cina,” Zara yelped.

For a moment everyone froze, including some of the dancers who had stalled their mini-performance for the children, confused at the commotion. But then the other boy of the group let out a chuckle he’d been holding. The girls soon followed, smirking smiles breaking out on there faces.

The party resumed as normal. One of those girls had slanted eyes that narrowed even further at Zara. She was the one holding the baby. Zara had recognized her as the bitch who had taken over her bedroom earlier. Her mood darkened considerably.

The scrawny boy stood back, stunned.

“Don’t act so mighty, little boy,” Cina advised. “You’ve heard enough gossip, have you? Did you know the witch doctor is a close relative of mine?”

Now it was the boy’s turn to gawk. He held his hurt cheek. “You are a liar.”

“There’s no way,” the girl with the fussing baby said. “The likes of you related to such a holy man? Please, spare me the jokes.”

Cina smiled thinly at her. “The likes of me? You seem like the kind of girl who marries after the child has already been conceived. Am I right? How old are you by the way?”

“Bitch,” the girl growled with bared teeth while also rocking the baby in her arms. A terrifying sight.

“You think you’re such a nobility. But your youth is already wasted.”

“Back the fuck away, liar. Slut!” a chubbier girl sitting next to the young mother screeched.

Cina turned to that one, sneering. “Your kohl is practically melting off your eye. I suggest you fix it.”

Zara tugged her arm. “Cina, let’s leave them.”

The mother girl snarled, “Hey. You at least have your stupid bedroom back. It reeked by the way.”

“Yeah go hole up in there, freak!” scrawny boy shouted as they trudged away toward the parlor’s door.

“What are they talking about?” Cina asked, resisting Zara’s pull.

“I don’t know.”

“Zara, what are they talking about—?”

“She treated me and my baby like shit,” they heard the young mother talking in an obnoxious manner. “Practically kicked me out of the room while baby was napping because she doesn’t know crap about guest customs and doesn’t care. Doesn’t know crap about religious customs too, ruining everything in that ceremony the way she did. I refuse to believe my mother truly became friends with hers. She’s practically a freak show of the town.”

Cina whirled around. “Oh you overdramatic tart, she is not!”

Zara, as calmly as she could, held out an arm to prevent Cina from stomping back to the group and beating them all in one swoop. Her head began to pound, her neck and hands were hot. She wasn’t sure if it was just rage or if her magic was surfacing or both. She took a deep breath, remained somewhat calm, and stalked up to the young mother whose name she didn’t care to know. Her bundled infant had finally quieted and was staring up at Zara with wide, almost fearful-looking eyes. The mother, however, was unperturbed.

“Do you have something to say to me?” she mocked. “Or will you cower like you did upstairs?”

The group giggled as Zara stood before them.

“Get out.”

“What was that? I don’t listen to mumbling.”

“I just told you to leave,” Zara repeated plainly.

“Excuse me?” She laughed.

“If you don’t like it here, and if you don’t respect the people who invited you and your family here, then maybe you should just go.”

She laughed cruelly again. “You really have no tact.” She regarded her friends. “What did I tell you? She’s been trying to kick me and my child out to the curb. Disgusting. Just wait until my husband hears about this one.” She turned back to Zara. “I won’t take any orders from you, and you know it. You are not the Master of this house and you can’t tell me what to do, in case this is another custom you failed to learn.”

“No one cares about your stupid fucking customs,” Cina said, now standing by Zara’s side again. “What are you even talking about anyway? What did Zara do to make you so fucking mad?”

“Can you watch your filthy mouth in front of the baby?” the boy with the stupid orange hair stripe said.

“Can I smack yours off your face first?”

“She tried kicking me out of her bedroom when I was just borrowing it for my baby to nap,” the mean mother explained.

“That is not what happened,” Zara protested, letting her shaky voice rise. “You kept telling me to leave you alone. You kicked me out of the room, stop trying to make it sound like anything else.”

“You were using Zara’s bedroom without her permission?” Cina spat.

“Why would I need her permission?” she yelled back. “I’m a guest here, I should be able to use whatever I want! Seems you don’t know any manners either. Where I come from, you would be outcasted for that.”

Cina blinked, then began to cackle. “What the fuck? Where the fuck did you even come from?”

“Bitch,” another girl chimed in. This one had a square jaw and a very high top hair bun. “Can you tone down your crude language please?”

“They have no class where they come from,” the young mother said, eyeing Cina’s dress. “You can tell. The southeast has much better people. Decent women with decent manners. That’s where I’m from.”

“So why don’t you move back there?” Zara said.

“Yeah,” Cina agreed. “Your dumb southeastern customs don’t matter to us. Where we’re from, using other people’s belongings or spaces without permission is rude.”

“And kicking people out of their own spaces is rude,” Zara added on.

The girl handed the baby to her square-jawed friend and stood from the mat. She walked straight up to Zara’s face. Zara was a couple of inches taller than her. From this angle, she could see the finer details of textured skin, thick kohl liner, and chapped painted lips.

“But I kicked you out anyway right?” The girl spoke softly, her smile vicious. It made Zara’s ire reach her core. “Do you know what some people are still saying about you? Do you know what they insinuate?” She chuckled. “Never mind, I’m guessing you already do. So tell me, what will you do about it?”

After some thought, Zara leaned in closer and calmly explained, “I can make sure that that innocent child over there won’t be raised by the likes of you.”

The girl’s eyes went wide with fury, and she hissed through clenched teeth, “Try it. Witch.”

Immediately, Zara shoved the girl back, to her surprise. Ignoring the shouts from the girl’s friends, ignoring the wails of the scared infant, ignoring the bewildered commotion of the surrounding guests that had nothing to do with what was unfolding, Zara’s fiery hot hands were ready to make a lasting impact. She was just about to wrap one of them around that girl’s throat when someone strongly clapped a hand down on her shoulder and quite literally startled the hell out of her.

“I found her Baba!”

Zara whirled around at Naz’s voice. He stood there, composed, his face marked with scabbed cuts. His forehead and cleanly shaved chin were bandaged. The rest of him, from his smoothly braided hair and golden yellow dress-suit, was impeccable.

“Zara,” Zahir was calling from the open parlor door, frowning. “What did I tell you about staying in my line of sight?”

Naz was smiling. It was a crummy, deceitful smile. He put his hand back on her shoulder, gently this time, and did not break eye contact with his sister.

“You look lovely today. Better than I. You made sure of that.”

“Zara, who is this?” Cina asked. She had a hand over her chest and seemed to be trying to calm down from the earlier racket. The other guests had gone back to what they were previously doing, bemused by the situation.

The girl Zara had almost violently attacked took her chance to start hollering at Zahir about his daughter, since he was of course the “Master” of the house. Her friends backed her up while one of them tried consoling the baby.

Zara, however, was lost in Naz’s world.

“You almost lost it there again, didn’t you?” he said in a low voice. The hand on her shoulder gave a squeeze, and his eyes crinkled.

Zara kept her face expressionless despite her magic still warring with both her body and mind.

“There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” Moving aside, Naz pointed his other hand toward the parlor. “Shall we?”