After Josef, Nina minced across the floor in a simple white gown. Her pale skin was nearly translucent beneath a constellation of freckles, but her cheeks went pink at the first polite smattering of applause. She’d come with props—a collection of small objects like spoons and rocks—and used them to demonstrate how she could warp matter, turning solids malleable and changing their shapes. It was a crowd-pleaser, but the more people clapped, the redder she grew, until her face clashed with her strawberry-blonde hair.
The next performer missed his cue.
Tomo checked his notes and scanned the shadows for whoever was up next, and Alessa let her gaze wander to the dark walkways above the glittering party.
Her eyes narrowed at a flash of movement. Soldiers wore blue, and servants wore black, so no one in white should be on the third floor, especially at this time of night.
“Kaleb Toporovsky?” Tomo called out, louder this time, and Alessa pulled her attention back to the matter at hand.
Visibly peeved, Kaleb looked up from his conversation with a handsome boy at the nearest table.
Alessa wrinkled her nose.
Auburn-haired and blue-eyed, with perfectly tanned skin, Kaleb was almost absurdly handsome—if you were into arrogant pricks—but she’d been thirteen to his fifteen the first time they’d met, and while eighteen and twenty didn’t feel nearly as far apart, she could never shake the feeling that Kaleb saw her as an annoying child he was forced to interact with. Granted, he looked at most people like that, so it might not be personal.
Kaleb took his time getting to the front of the stage. “Finestra, Fonte … new Finestra,” he drawled. “An honor, I’m sure.”
An honor for him? Or was he saying they were honored to have him? She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but couldn’t.
Bolts of lightning danced above his palm as he plowed through a dry explanation of his powers, seeming annoyed that his gift made him eligible for anything but lazing about town. And yet, judging from his finery, he didn’t turn down the perks of being god-touched.
Next up were Kamaria and Shomari, copper-skinned twins wearing matching expressions of grim determination. Shomari’s eyes were flat when they met Alessa’s, while Kamaria’s glittered with something Alessa couldn’t interpret. Despite them being the only other set of boy/girl twins she’d ever met, she didn’t really know them. They’d gone to school together before she became Finestra, but Shomari and Kamaria were a year older, popular, and Fontes, while Alessa had been nobody back then. She’d admired them from afar but never tried to talk to them. And now they had to talk to her, which didn’t count.
Shomari lifted the water from a drinking goblet and swirled droplets through the air in intricate maneuvers. Kamaria, holding a candle, used her control over fire to turn the droplets into puffs of steam, occasionally winking at the crowd. Alessa hid a smile behind her glass. Some people, like Kamaria and Adrick, were born with too much charm to contain, and it poured forth no matter the circumstances.
Next up, Saida checked the gold headband holding her thick curls off her face before creating a wind funnel that made all the napkins on the head table twirl. She was also a year older than Alessa, but when she smiled at the applause, her round cheeks dimpled, and she appeared much younger.
Thanks to Hugo, Alessa had a bit of experience with wind power, but not enough to make Saida an automatic front-runner.
The next two performers were strangers who must have traveled from outside the city. One girl controlled fire, like Kamaria, and the other manipulated matter, like Nina, but not very well.
There was a long pause before the next performer. A skinny boy with glossy black hair, hovering slightly apart from the rest of the group, stepped up, his arms held stiffly at his sides and a look of determined courage on his face.
Alessa felt ill.
“Jun Cheong?” she whispered to Renata. “Really?”
“His parents weren’t thrilled, but he’s old enough.”
“Is he, though?”
Jun couldn’t be more than thirteen, and while the bonding of a Finestra and Fonte wasn’t a regular sort of marriage, Alessa didn’t want a child groom.
“No. Absolutely not. I used to babysit for him.”
Renata protested, as Alessa knew she would, but Tomo agreed, as she knew he would. And soon, they had one fewer prospect on their list. Alessa tried to give Jun’s parents a reassuring smile, but they didn’t know that Alessa was arguing for their son’s elimination and only looked more nervous.