“Magic has some perks, doesn’t it?” Blade smiled, grabbing a glass for each of them.
“Should we be drinking that?” Evie took a whiff of the liquid, amazed that she felt intoxicated just from the fragrance. “We don’t know who’s behind this whole thing—what if these are poisoned?”
Blade took a large gulp of his, and Evie jumped in protest. “You fool!”
He nodded toward the rest of the crowd. “Everybody is drinking them, so unless they are all being poisoned to dance in sloppily drunken circles and show blatant public displays of affection, I think we’re safe.”
Evie took a careful sip, resisting a moan from the euphoric flavor coating her taste buds. “How can anything taste this good?” She made for another large sip, but Blade stayed her hand.
“Careful. It’s not poisoned, but it’s strong. Now, to find the core healer.” Blade searched the crowd, eyes narrowing hard. Evie looked in the direction that he was and smiled knowingly when she saw a handsome blond man kissing Becky’s hand and looking very appreciatively at her figure.
“I’ll be right back,” he growled before stalking toward the two of them.
“But—”
It was too late. Blade was off, nearly throwing himself between Becky and the stranger, leaning down to furiously whisper at Becky. Who, in all fairness, had pure murder in her eyes as well at being interrupted.
“Fine, I’ll do it myself,” Evie muttered, examining the crowd once more for any familiar faces. There was every manner of creature here, from humans to pixies. Pure-white unicorns stood tied to trees, forest sprites dancing around them. Every breath Evie took was magic, living in the air and filling her with warm happiness.
She’d quietly hoped to see Tatianna among the splendor, flitting over with an invitation of her own. Evie had made light of writing out the list of employees who could be traitors for The Villain, but every name she’d neatly cataloged for her boss to review had dug a pit so deep in her stomach that she could still feel it now, weeks later. Such an innocent way to rip apart the people she claimed to care for. She exhaled hard, pushing against the boning of her corseted torso.
These things weren’t built for people with high levels of anxiety, but at least she looked pretty.
A tap on her shoulder caused her to jump and spin with her fists raised. An older man stood there, shoulder-length red hair hanging in his face. He held out a hand, dark robes covering his body. “May I see your invitation, young lady?”
Evie narrowed her eyes in suspicion, tapping the toe of one shoe against the knife she had tucked into the sheath at her ankle to assure herself it was still there. “Of course.” She handed the envelope over, hoping Blade and Becky would return soon.
But the older man simply smiled after reading the envelope, not bothering to pull the invitation from within, then handed it back to her without issue. “Wonderful. Happy you came, dear.”
“Do I know you?” Evie asked suspiciously, trying to place the man’s face.
“No, I wouldn’t expect you to.” He laughed, the sound warm and soft like liquid sugar. He held out his hand again, calloused and blistered. “My name is Arthur Maverine. I believe you work for my son, Trystan. I am the core healer.”
Evie was certain her body was going into shock, because she froze, unable to remember how to use words to communicate, and instead kept her mouth open and her eyes glued to the man before her. “You— I— Um, hello?”
Arthur chuckled and dropped his hand back to his side when he realized hers was too heavy to move. “I must say, you seem surprised to be here for someone who so insistently requested an invitation to tonight’s festivities.”
Evie shook her head and reeled back, finding her voice. “Excuse me? I didn’t request anything. This invitation was left in my bedroom with an ominous note.”
Arthur frowned and gestured to two wooden chairs away from the crowd. She reluctantly followed, keeping her hand out, ready to grab her dagger at a moment’s notice.
It wasn’t as sharp as the one she’d had the day she met The Villain.
The one tucked away with her now was something she’d purchased at the week’s end merchant market for far more than it was worth. Especially considering the horrible dullness of the blade, but she digressed.
It was sharp enough to stab someone—that’s really all she required should the situation call for it.
“I can assure you, Ms. Sage, it was you who invited me to tonight’s festivities.” The older man held her gaze. “You sent a letter this morning.”