It.

Was.

Time.

Finally. Rhen had made it to the week of the wedding. Agonizing weeks of living a lie, fighting for every moment of peace, and dying inside every time he saw Jakira in public and knew he couldn’t touch her, or even risk looking at her, if perhaps his glance was too longing. But now it was almost over.

His stomach had been in knots for the last three weeks, and the inability to eat had him looking a little more gaunt than he’d have liked in his fine dining dress. Tonight was the reception, and the last time he’d have to spend more than an hour with Adelus Desedra, king fluffer of all the realms.

Rhen looked himself up and down once more in the full-length mirror of the Grand Suite of the Silver Mark. The reception and wedding both would be held locally in Desedra I City, and the Silver Mark was Rhen’s favorite classy establishment by far. The owner, Horatio Riva, was more than happy to host the groom’s party, while Zeichen’s party stayed in the suites in Desedra I Tower.

There was a knock at the door and Arannet’s timid voice followed. “It’s almost time.”

Rhen opened the door, his whole body feeling like one giant vibrating nerve. Arannet took one look at him and smiled sympathetically.

“It’ll pass,” she said.

Rhen nodded. Indeed, it would. But how it would pass was what he was really nervous about. What if everything was for naught? He’d been so confident that the delvers around the realms would listen and follow his example, but would they? Worse, what if the corruption ran so deep in the Guilds that exposing Adelus’s shady behavior warranted no investigation?

He had to have faith that it’d all be enough.

Rhen exhaled deeply. “Is everyone here?”

“All but one… I tried getting Aki again, and this time, well, I got something quite terrifying that said his childish petulance would soon be at an end. I couldn’t see any being on the other end of the call, it was just the node.”

It took everything Rhen had not to rush out of the room and head for the Prelia Nexus. It must’ve been his broodmother, the dungeon of Cla’ketre Whri. But Aki was alive. And he was still giving her hell.

He had to have faith in his friend, too.

“We should go,” Arannet said, stepping away.

Rhen closed and locked the door behind him, following the angry dungeon manager.

Zeichen’s private car was waiting outside to take him into the city. An orbeye waited just outside and followed him into the back. He kept his gaze pointed out the window, watching the monster drawn carriages, the bikes, the tattered delvers on foot. How long ago had it been that he was on the street, toes poking out of his boots, looking for a warm meal and a place to rest his head for the night? Felt like another life altogether. If he succeeded, no one would know that kind of life ever again.

The foot traffic dwindled to nothing as they entered the city downtown. Post-its were plastered all over the ground-floor windows showcasing just a small portion of the event to come tomorrow. One notice was just a painting of Zeichen’s exposed shoulder, a white frill of a dress hugging tightly to her long neck. Black hair framed her deeply crimson lips, and at the bottom in big bold letters it read Desedra & Zephitz.

They pulled up to the arched entrance to the reception dinner, a black tented venue taking up the entire city park. Rhen was taken aback by the beauty of the arch itself. Tiny sparkling lights intertwined with the freshly budding leaves that climbed the trellis’s framing the red and black carpeted entrance. Beyond the enchanting tunnel, Rhen saw the hints of cherry blossoms dancing with bright colors.

Rhen stepped out and the orbeye followed him closely. He waited for Arannet, who wore a similarly awestruck expression. He offered his arm and she took it.

“It’s so lovely.”

“It is. I believe Shevine personally designed the elements of the reception.”

“Mmhmm.” Arannet smiled through her painful wince. Rhen didn’t know what she was thinking, and Arannet had taken to keeping to herself much more around Rhen, so he didn’t ask. He only hoped whatever hurt her could be soothed tomorrow afternoon.

They exited the other side of the tunnel to a sight that stunned both of them to stillness. The blacked-out canvas above was alive with aurora-like waves and shimmering lights that twinkled like stars. Lining the walls of the tent were two rows of cherry blossom trees, and a path leading through the middle of them. At the far end was five-foot stage, well lit, sporting a banner that read, “Celebrating Greatness.”

Hundreds of tables dotted the open area in the center, all of them with placards welcoming this diplomat or that dungeon owner, many of them already within the Desedra family. It was only half an hour before the other guests would arrive, and the hosts were scrambling around everywhere in between the chairs, the dining set stations, to the back for something missed, and then around the perimeter verifying everything was in order.

Rhen made his way toward the stage where he spied Zeichen standing with Shevine and another woman he did not know. She wasn’t a Desedra by blood from the looks of her long, blonde hair laced with highlights of silver. She was in a deep blue gown that shimmered like moonlight on the ocean.

Zeichen reached out for Rhen the way she always did in public when she noticed him. Rhen applied his best smile and came to her side, then planted a very brief kiss on her cheek. The older woman smiled at this.

“It’s so nice to finally make your acquaintance Mr. Zephitz.” She didn’t reach out for a handshake.

“This is Liviana Caius-Desedra,” Shevine said.

Rhen bowed. “Pleasure to meet you, Liviana.”

“The Caius family were long rivals of the Desedras before I came along and fell for your father,” Liviana said, her tone hiding secret venom as she looked at only Zeichen. “It’s good of you to squash that rivalry quickly before he became a real problem.”

Zeichen dipped her head and Shevine translated for her. “You always say the nicest things, Mother.”

“Yes, well, I have every reason to be nice with you, don’t I?”

Liviana turned away before Zeichen could retort.

She stopped as she passed Rhen. “Don’t get too fond of that,” she said, pointing to their joined hands. “She’ll be as cold as a snake by sundown tomorrow.”

Rhen caught sight of the orbeye close enough to have captured everything but withheld his groan. When the Dragon Mother was out of eyeshot, Rhen turned to Zeichen and signed to her.

“She’s lovely.” He raised his brows, emphasizing the middle of “lovely” to show his sarcasm.

“She did save my life once,” she replied.

Rhen felt embarrassment flicker through him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—

She grabbed his hand with a playful smile. “Stop. Let us try to enjoy ourselves a little, shall we?”

Zeichen turned him away from the others and he could hear Arannet give a timid, “Hey,” to Shevine behind them.

The orbeye followed the pair, but from its vantage point, it couldn’t see their signing.

“You look like you need a drink… and something to eat. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“I’ve been finding it difficult to eat with the constant gnawing guilt taking up all the space in my stomach.”

She nodded. “You’ll eat well again soon. How is your wedding speech coming?”

“Nearly finished. One last detail I’ve asked Arannet to gather for me. And yours?”

“Finished. Damn inspiring if I do say so myself.”

They exchanged a happy chuckle, Zeichen’s silent.

Rhen felt his confidence wane. He wanted to ask her if she believed in the plan… but he knew that was just his fear looking for an escape route. They couldn’t carry on the way they had and survive much longer. Something radical had to change, and soon.

“It’s okay to be scared,” she signed as they reached the bar at the back.

“How could you tell?” he asked out loud, since there was no point in trying to hide his signs with the orbeye circling.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” she signed, then placed her hand on her chest. “Mine is scared too. But we’re in this together.” She put her other hand over his heart and smiled.

Rhen grabbed it and held it tightly. “Thank you. Now, what will you have for your first drink of the evening, m’lady?”

“Something red from Wenyu.”

“Hmm, yes, a fine grape juice for the lady,” Rhen said with playful posh.

Zeichen laughed, then signed a word Rhen hadn’t seen before to the barman. He nodded once and pulled a dark glass bottle from the bottom shelf. The label read, “Gravas Estates – Pinot Noir – 1704RY.”

“Your brother’s?” Rhen asked as the barman handed her a modest glass of the deep-purple liquid.

She nodded, her eyes closed as she took a sniff. She pulled her lips in as if she would say, “Mmm,” and signed, “Notes of cherry, light body, perfect for spring.”

She opened her eyes and chuckled at the incredulous look Rhen could feel himself wearing.

He signed back, “I doubt it tastes like anything but wine.”

“I’ll teach your palette to become more refined.”

They walked around to the cherry blossom path, and Zeichen took his arm. They were silent, her enjoying the wine and the flowers, Rhen enjoying just a brief respite from the worries that plagued him. She was scared too, but she was still on board. They could do this.

The first guests arrived, so Rhen and Zeichen moved to the entrance to greet the following procession. Arannet stood behind Rhen and slightly to the side, just enough that she could scroll through the guest list and tell Rhen who was coming. They greeted every merchant, dungeon owner, diplomat, and civil servant as they filed in. It was easy to tell who Rhen’s guests were by the lack of guards flanking their entrance.

Then, there was Jakira.

She wore a sheer, golden gown that was cut scandalously low at the front, and criminally high on the thighs, all the way to her hips. It was a wonder the dress stayed on her at all, but it looked incredible. Her toned arms were decorated with red-jeweled bangles, and she wore a thin gold chain around her neck that rested right between her breasts. The hair at her forehead was braided like a crown with little flowers, but then it flowed in waves down behind her ears, reaching her mid-back.

Oh goddess, give him the strength not to look at her with hungry eyes.

“You look stunning,” Zeichen signed and Rhen translated, his voice a little breathy.

Jakira signed back, “Thank you.”

Zeichen beamed. “Welcome in. Please, find your gift and table seating just to the left, here.”

Jakira’s gaze flicked to Rhen’s for but a second, but it was a second too long. Guilt and desire warred inside him. He longed to be back in her embrace.

She walked toward the gift table and the orbeye followed her.

“Smart,” Zeichen signed.

“What?”

“She’s increasing the drama, more viewers.”

Smart indeed. Rhen wondered if she knew more about what was happening than she let on… Jakira and Arannet were both very smart women, and Rhen’s recent file requests could’ve let on just enough. He wished in his heart that she knew he’d be hers again soon.

Finally, the last guest arrived: Adelus Desedra.

He was late, and his breath smelled of high-end liquor. “So glad to be here, little Brother. Can’t wait for tomorrow. You’ll be so happy to know that the delvers of One all demanded the day off… they called it “Zephoria Day” to celebrate the joy of your wedding.

Adelus leaned in closer. “I wonder if that had anything at all to do with the fact that you very publicly gave all your delvers the day off tomorrow? Hmm?” He eyed Rhen with dangerous intent, then slapped him on the shoulder with a smile. “Good thinking, turn your wedding day into a public holiday! Everyone, take tomorrow off! I’m sure everything will be fine if we stop shipments for a day, and the enforcers don’t patrol for criminals, and—”

“Enough,” Zeichen snapped, silencing her younger brother. “Take your seat and maintain your civility, or I will dismiss you.”

Rhen could tell by the way she slurred the sign between “dismiss” and “end” that he knew what she meant, but Shevine carried none of that secret intent in her voice.

Adelus sneered. “Yes, Sister.”

He stepped around them, passing the gift table and heading toward the center of the sea of tables. At the stage, several different bards created a lovely harmony, serenading the chattering groups of guests that circulated from place to place, getting drinks or chatting with other tables.

“Shall we?” Zeichen asked.

Rhen nodded and the evening began. They thanked the guests for coming to celebrate their joining to mostly applause and a few sounds of dissent. Rhen was glad Zeichen could not hear those disagreeing, he knew how her temper could get.

With the welcome speech done, they descended the stage to the special table set up just for them. It sat nestled between two trees with lovely foliage, a string of lights weaving their branches together. The table was nice, but not overly showy. A sturdy wood with a simple white cloth running the length of it.

They took their seats, looking out at the guests. Rhen tried not to look for Jakira, but failed, spotting her brilliant gorgeousness easily among the dark suits and dresses. The room was called to order and everyone took their seats as the meal was served…

Monster meat stew.

Rhen looked at Zeichen, puzzled and a little shocked.

She grinned and shrugged. “Just a little taste of what’s to come.”

He smirked. “Clever.”

The soup wasn’t bad, in all honesty. The meat was tender, the potatoes perfectly done, the broth well-seasoned. It was thick, hardy, and just the thing to chase away the bite of winter.

“Where is this from?” he signed, smiling from the welcome delight the flavors brought him.

“I’ve asked several different street vendors to supply tonight’s meal. This was Sebastian’s Grub.”

“Have I told you recently how great you are?”

“Yes, but you can tell me again.”

“Brilliant. I like.”

The second course was several little meat and vegetable dumplings, and they too were surprisingly good for monster meat. Rhen looked out at the guests to gauge their reaction. Many of the delvers from Rhen’s party were clearly enjoying themselves, while the aristocrats of Zeichen’s party were pushing away their plates with disdain.

By the dessert round, Rhen was bursting. He attributed that to his guilt-consumed stomach mostly, but that didn’t stop him from shoving the berry tart in his mouth. It was layered with sweet cream and little sprinkles of hakir salt.

“This is so good, where’s it from?” Rhen signed because his mouth was too full. It must’ve looked very refined.

Zeichen smiled. “It’s Jakira’s recipe. She and Arannet were here last night finishing everything.”

Rhen nodded, his stomach tight again with guilt. He swallowed the tart and squinted at the lingering bitterness on his tongue. He swore he knew the flavor, but couldn’t quite place it…

Until he did.

He scowled, looking at Zeichen. “You didn’t.”

Her eyes were wide, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

He turned away from the orbeye, hiding his signs. “You poisoned them!”

Zeichen huffed. “It’s not poison.”

“You’ve drugged them—and me—without their knowledge or consent!”

She shrugged it off. “It’s less than I gave you, they’ll hardly feel it.”

“That doesn’t change the fact. Why did you do it?”

“It’ll loosen them up.” She made a silly face.

“This isn’t funny, Zeichen,” Rhen signed more insistently. “Fix it!”

Zeichen rose from her chair and set a tiny vial next to his spoon. “I only brought enough for you. Make the most of it.”

She proceeded into the cluster of guest tables with Shevine, her tart untouched.

Great.

He poured the vial into his mouth and swallowed. At least he’d be sober.

Rhen stood and pushed in his chair, looking into the sea of faces. Who most could he benefit from talking with while they were in a looser state?

Adelus Desedra.