I wince, dreading what I’ll see when she pulls her hands away. I can’t handle a major envy meltdown right now. I move a bit closer to Cissy. “Are you okay?”
My best friend lowers her hands. Her eyes are their regular tawny brown, thank badness. “Let’s change the subject.” She gestures to my gown. “Can you move around in that thing?”
I place my hand on my heart, raising my other palm to shoulder level. “I hereby solemnly swear to listen to Cissy’s fashion advice from now on. This makes two monster dresses I could have avoided if I had taken help from you.” I look down at the muddy hem of my gown. At least the weight of the dirt is holding down some of the puffiness.
“Next time we have to go fancy for something, we’ll get ready together.” She winks. “We can still do some damage control today, though. I say we sit in the pavilion.” She eyes my gown again. “Back row.”
“Excellent idea. Lead on.”
We hike through the mud to the nearest pavilion. I pause by the stairs to the seats, seeing nothing available in the back row. My heart sinks. There is, in fact, only one open chair in the entire pavilion, and it’s next to the Great Ladies. Yuck.
I turn on my heel. “Maybe we should check out the pavilion on the other side.”
A whiny voice calls out. “Miss Lewis, come sit by us!” I look up to see the Scala Heir wearing white robes and waving in my direction. I squelch the urge to chuck my shoe at her head.
Seating etiquette at a thrax tournament is diplomatic stuff. Girly-girl stuff. Cissy stuff. I lean over and whisper in her ear. “Help?”
Cissy nods, speaking in a low voice that only I can hear. “I got this.” Turning to the Great Ladies, Cissy curtsies low. “We thank you for the kind offer, but Myla and I need to sit together. It’s a quasi tradition.” She whispers in my ear. “That should shut them up. Thrax have all sorts of rules about following tradition, theirs and those of other realms.”
Adair rises to her feet. “To our people, no tradition comes before the desire of the Scala Heir. And I very much desire to speak with Miss Lewis.” She snaps her fingers. Three blonde girls in yellow gowns appear by our side. “These are ladies of my House. They’ll accompany you to an excellent seat at the opposite pavilion. Miss Lewis stays here.”
My upper lip curls with disgust. I speak to Cissy out of one side of my mouth. “Options?”
Cissy lets out a low groan. “I got nothing.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Myla. I’m new to this diplomacy stuff. The tradition excuse was all I had.”
Panic rips through me. Sitting next to a bunch of girly-girls for who-knows-how long? I’ve lived this nightmare a few times at school. They’ll want to talk about stuff like eyelash extensions, panty liners, and cuticle cream. It’s torture.
Cissy tightens her grip on my arm. “Let’s make a run for it. This tournament is a whole lot of dumb, anyway.”
Run for it? That sounds like a great plan. I’m about to say ‘yes, yes, yes’ when I catch Adair’s gaze. Her mouth rounds into a self-satisfied smirk while her left eyebrow quirks with a look that says ‘I knew you’d crack, you lowly form of life.’
I freeze. A challenge lurks in her eyes, and I’m always up for a challenge. Straightening my shoulders, I plaster on a wide grin. “I’d love to join you, oh Scala Heir.”
Her nasty smirk collapses into a disgusted sneer. Nice. “How wonderful of you to join us.” Adair gestures to the open chair besides her. “Please, sit here.”
I turn to the trio of girls surrounding my best friend. “Take good care of her or I will hurt you.” I chuck Cissy on the shoulder. “See you after the match.”
Cissy grins. “Go get ‘em.” Her escorts guide her away; I watch her meld into the crowd. Taking a deep breath, I re-plaster on my smile, walk up the steps, and take my seat next to the Scala Heir.
“Hello, I’m—”
“Miss Lewis,” finishes the Scala Heir. “We all know that part, silly.” She smiles and tosses her head, sending her long blonde hair in a perfect arc over her shoulder. “And you know me. I saw you at the ceremony.”
Yeah, when you were calling me a lesser form of life. What’s changed since then? My face warms into a genuine grin. That’s right. I held my own against all those Lords. Now I’m getting a little thrax respect.
“Let me introduce you to everyone else.” Adair gestures to a girl sitting next to her in a purple gown. She’s bone-thin with olive skin and a strong jaw. Her long brown hair is held back in a net of purple beads. “This is Lady Gianna from the House of Striga.”
A familiar blonde head waves to me from the end of the row. “Hi, Myla!” I shoot a friendly wave at Avery. She bounces a bit in her seat. “Isn’t it great how Gianna and Adair are friends now? Typically, Acca and Striga hate each other.”