CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The significance of natural phenomena in fluctuations of divine power cannot be overstated. Apollius was the god of the sun, and Nyxara the goddess of the moon. Their union proved to be a volatile one, and one that spelled destruction for the world as we knew it before the Godsfall; however, when their symbols come together in the sky, it can be a time of great power for those who know how to use it. An eclipse signifies change, change to the very nature of magic. It is a time when opposites can come together.
—Solenne Bacque, lecturer in Cosmological Theology at Ularha College in Kadmar （pre-Kirythean conquest）
Ouch.”
Gabe’s voice startled Lore awake, much closer to her ear than it should be. Her eyes flew open, registering the world at an odd angle—sideways, and from below. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on the verge of cramping, and something behind her back pressed her forward uncomfortably.
It was Gabe, arching away from the door. Gabe, lying next to her with his chest bare. Gabe, whom she’d slept with the night before, chasing warmth and not thinking about how it’d leave them in the morning.
Lore scrambled up, taking the blanket with her, clutching it around her shoulders. She’d slept with plenty of people, in both senses of the word, and didn’t much care about modesty besides. But something about it being Gabe, pious, vow-bound Gabe, made her cheeks heat furiously and an uncomfortable vulnerability crawl through her chest.
The flush across Gabe’s cheekbones said he was having his own uncomfortably vulnerable moment. She saw the decision flash across his face as he chose not to address what had happened last night, and she was absurdly grateful for it.
Gabe reached behind him, picking up whatever had come through the door. She wondered how long he’d been awake, if he’d just lain there with his arm around her as she slept.
It was another envelope, pushed under the door, Remaut once again scrawled in elegant script over the front. A seal covered the envelope’s closure, deep-purple wax impressed with an image of the Bleeding God’s Heart. The Arceneaux seal.
“Is it a summons?” Lore asked as Gabe sat up and ripped the envelope open.
His eye tracked over the paper, then he handed it to her. “Not quite.”
An invitation to a dinner and a ball, to celebrate the coming eclipse. The ball was a large event, but the formal dinner afterward was only open to a select few, and she and Gabe counted among the chosen.
The date on the paper stared back at her. Midsummer. She hadn’t realized her birthday was so close.
A solar eclipse on her birthday, and a ball to celebrate.
A tremble in Lore’s fingers made the paper quiver, just a bit. Surely it had to be a coincidence. Anton had said they would plan a Consecration for her, but a ball was not a Consecration—
“Lore?”
Gabe looked up at her from where he still sat on the floor, face twisted in concern. There was stubble on his jaw—she’d felt it last night, rough against her hair. “Are you all right?”
She forced a smile. Waved the invitation limply in the air. “It’s on my birthday. My twenty-fourth.”
His brow climbed up his forehead.
“It doesn’t say anything about a Consecration, though. Hopefully I can avoid an embarrassing ceremony. I assume there’s no getting out of the dinner?”
“Not if August purposefully invited us.” With a groan, Gabe stood, stretching out his back. Lore looked away. “It’d be obvious if we didn’t attend.”
Lore nodded again, lip between her teeth. She went to go place the invitation on the table with the others—next to the remains of last night’s dinner; she’d have to find someone to take care of that before it got too disgusting—and another envelope stared up at her, one inscribed with just Lore, not her false surname.
Alie’s invitation to tea. At the croquet game, she’d said it was standing, that she and some friends got together every Sixth Day. “What day is it?”
“Seventh,” Gabe answered, headed to the door of his unused bedroom to find clothes.
So she’d just missed the tea. She should probably try to make it to the next one. It’d seem strange if she didn’t go at least once, and she might find out something valuable.
Even if she didn’t, it’d be nice to pretend to have friends for a couple of hours.
Lore changed quickly, once again opting for whatever dress was easiest to get on by herself. This one was a deep gold, with a flowy skirt made of layered chiffon that swished around her legs. The sleeves were chiffon, too, long and gathered at the wrists. Part of her wanted to dig further in the closet and find the winter gowns she was sure were waiting. She was still chilled.