I sat casually, my obligation resolved.
From my periphery, I saw Grey flinch and feared he would intervene. I’d not thought to gauge his response to Ruby’s appearance, as it was, or the risk she was about to take. It was another mistake on my part, and I quietly added it to the list. But Steed caught him in time with a gesture so minute, I was confident no one else saw it. Besides, they were all watching the fire fairy in guard’s garb cross the room to her target.
Wearing a blank expression, Ruby walked coolly through the crowd to stand behind him. On bended knee, he was nearly as tall as she and I was grateful he’d shown at least that respect. She pulled a dagger from her waist and grabbed hold of his braid. The whole of the hall tensed until a swift move sliced the braid and a crop of black hair fell forward around his face. It was incredibly insulting, but far from what the other guests had expected. Without a word, she walked back to her place, a firm grip on the dagger in one hand and braid in the other.
I’d given none cause to dispute the action, and the fact that Ruby hadn’t used fire in her revenge might keep her heritage from topic when the story was repeated. The northern elves tended to enjoy relaying the deed, but didn’t much care to dwell on complicated reasons. Ruby was complicated enough, but I was afraid far too remarkable to not become a target herself.
Another round of wine was served and the crowd eventually settled into the customary din of conversation.
I had decided to give them a bit longer before the display of power when an exchange caught my attention. Dagan of Camber was a little too far in his drink, speaking noisily of “before.” Dagan had clout. He held dominance over many here, and some believed fear of his power had kept the region from going completely lawless in my absence. I wanted no conflict with him, but his words were irritating me unreasonably. I resolved to go ahead with the next step to shut him up. And that was when it all went out the window.
Looking back, it was hard to recall exactly what he said that caused my anger to explode. Something about Chevelle that went right through me. What happened next would likely be repeated through history. I was fairly certain I’d only intended to shatter the cup in front of him, just to get his attention.
Instead, a deafening blast sounded as every cup on every table in the entire hall burst into pieces at once, sending shards of pewter glassware flying to clink against walls, splinter into tables, and generally shower down on everything, excepting myself, which pretty much gave away the source of the flare. The fact that I was staring at Dagan clued everyone who’d not heard his comments in on the cause.
The room fell silent once again and the drip of wine from table and stone seemed amplified by it. Red splattered my guests as if they had attended a massacre and not a feast. The final few who were still taking in the scene came to join the others in their gawking of me.
I realized I was standing, which was slightly disconcerting considering I couldn’t remember doing it. I glanced down to see my own wineglass sat undisturbed, my person and all that surrounded me in an arm’s length radius untouched by the destruction that blanketed the rest of the hall.
There was no question I had instilled fear in them. My task was complete and I didn’t have much taste left for festivities. I leaned down, lifted the glass in salute to my guard, and turned to walk casually from the room.
When I reached the corridor, I allowed myself to breathe again. I walked toward the study, thinking of the faces of my guard, sprayed red and numb with shock. I kept walking, past my chambers, past the commonly used rooms, up the stairs and out the window to my perch on the roof. The wind was cutting, but I stood to face it.
“Tell me that wasn’t your plan,” Chevelle said from behind me.
I choked on a laugh. I’d been standing in the wind so long my eyes watered and my nose and cheeks burned. I turned to look at him, relieved to find him clean and out of uniform. He untied his cloak and stepped up behind me on the small platform. When he reached around to blanket me with the cloak, the warmth felt so good I held his arm to wrap around me. I felt him relax into the embrace and I snuggled my face into the cloak to thaw. I breathed in his scent and then straightened, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“I had a good plan,” I said as we stared out into the night. An agreeable rumble vibrated in his chest. It reminded me of a purring cat and I smiled. “I don’t suppose it matters now.”