Windswept (The Airborne Saga) (19 page)

Instead of pushing it outward, she tried to pull the magic from her fingertips. After a minute, it seemed clear that she was just making herself uncomfortable.

“No
thing,” she gave.

“Humor me
,” he snapped again. She met his brown eyes with a flattened look.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

He tossed something heavy at her. She caught it just as it made impact with her collarbone. She held a smooth paperweight in her hands. Carved out of something like ivory and filled with something heavier than iron, it was shaped to be winged maiden.

“Break it,
” he said. “Don’t gawk, break it.”

Not gawking was easier said than done. Feeling the sunlight through the window grow hotter as it grew brighter, she became aware of the minutes that ticked by. Her stomach churned with emptiness
, and lightheadedness threatened to follow. It drove her to obediently press the piece into her hands. She squeezed until the edges dug into her skin and focused for whatever bits of magic she could.

“Does it usually do that?”

“What?” Avery hadn’t let it go. The piece still remained hard and intact in her palm.

“Ugh. Release it.”

He caught it as soon as she opened her fingers and the ivory fell out. She hadn’t realized it before but the surface of the maiden had been covered with something sheer and shiny with bits of frost.

“It’s cold. It’s freezing. Do you do things like this often?”

“No…no I make them hot. It’s just…” She trailed off when she couldn’t explain it. The doctor didn’t wait for an answer. He shot to a stand and let himself out with nothing more than a half witted goodbye. She collapsed backwards once she heard the tap of his uneven footsteps disappear outside.

Fifteen

              Mason was waiting for her when she opened the door as eight o’ clock rolled around. Even though she’d prepped herself for the moment, she couldn’t help the blush that covered her face anyways. Mason was there in his formal white-and-gold attire with his brown locks carefully combed into submission. It was when his green eyes landed on her that his face really changed.

             
“I think this is the part that you ask me out,” she blurted having to say something. His eyes wisped up and down her figure.

             
Avery tried not to fidget. She’d already corrected the ball gown well over a hundred times and knew Evelyn had chosen it well. Although Evelyn hadn’t shown up to help Avery into it. After their last encounter, the woman hadn’t made a reappearance. Avery didn’t dwindle for a second, focused wholly on stepping carefully in the gown. A darkened royal blue, it tied around her neck and raced to her ankles. It was far from anything he’d seen her wear before—hell, it was something Avery never had worn before.

             
Her heart restored in her chest when Mason spoke and met her eyes again.

             
“It takes the effect away if everyone already told you it was coming.” He couldn’t put the cockiness into his words.

“Well, I kinda figured with the ball gown and everything. Not that I asked to ruin the surprise
,” she pointed out in a sputter and let her chin drop to her chest. Taking a breath, she tried to reorient herself. They were standing still like two awkward teenagers. Mason must have thought the same thing as he finally stuck an arm out.

“Then dear Avery, I ask that you join me at the ball tonight.”
He said, managing to pull it off with practiced ease. She slid her arm into his and took careful steps in the heels. They managed a slow pace down the hallway that was lined by servants and guards. She didn’t look around much, too focused on keeping everything together.

“Is there actually going to be dancing? Like human dancing?”
she asked instead.

He laughed.

“Your expectations of my kind never stops being entertaining. There is dancing. There is socializing. There will be all the royals and officials.”

“Mmm…getting the big official introductions I see
,” she said with more confidence than she actually had. She started to sweat underneath the thick makeup. Mason slowed and squeezed her arm.

“It won’t be bad. Trust me, if you nod and smile they’ll be pleasant back.  Are you ready?”

They had arrived at two massive wooden doors before she realized. Avery wasn’t ready. She definitely wasn’t. She’d had times to picture this scenario—probably should have pictured it when she knew Mason was becoming Prince, but she just hadn’t. And now she’d found herself standing arm in arm before the most stereotypical princess scene of all time. She didn’t have more than a few seconds for her stomach to flip backwards. Mason squeezed her arms and the doors swung open. The brilliant light blinded her and she took her first step led by Mason’s guiding hands only. She blinked her burning eyes until the room came into clear focus but that did nothing but make her heart drop again. They stood at the top of a short, winding staircase.  Lining the bottom of the stairs was a number of harpies who stared upward. Most were dressed up but some held cameras and resembled classic reporters. When a harpie that joined them at the top of the stairs to raise his voice to announce their arrival, Avery was about ready to bolt.

“Come on.” Mason gave her a light tug and they descended the stairs. The prying eyes hadn’t lain off of them—rather
harpies crowded closer.

“Prince Mason, who is your fri
end?” women were actually cooing. They were chirping in nearly incoherent voices, clamoring over each other to catch another glimpse. In it all, they managed to keep two feet of distance away at all times.

Mason greeted everyone but Avery couldn’t hear anything he said. She could only hear her heart pounding in her ears. It seemed like an eternity before he maneuvered them away and the crowd dispersed.

“Fun,” Avery said.

“They like you, Avery.” Mason leaned down to whisper. He spoke some truth. There were smiles about. People were laughing. No one pointed.

“Cool. Um….maybe they have something to drink?” She fanned her throat for emphasis. Mason guided her to a table and left to retrieve one. Old fashioned apparently, even for a prince. Only after a moment of sitting did she notice the other people at the table.

“Human,
” the first one snapped and leaned forward. An oddly angled face had been caked with an overabundance of makeup. Her sharp teeth still showed. “Tell me about yourself,” the second question came.

“Um…”

The woman’s hand snaked out and snatched Avery’s knee. Though coated with the bottom of her skirt, the woman’s nails still threatened to dig in. The sharp pain stung persistently.

“How did you do it? How did you snag
a date with the Prince? Who are you related to?”

Avery jerked her knee back
, but the woman didn’t let go. Instincts put Avery on edge. She wanted to push back and break the pain, but doing so would make a scene.

“Let me go!”

“Just tell me. Tell me,” the woman kept demanding, louder each time.

Avery shifted, ready to shoot up from her seat, and thrust the woman away. She didn’t have the chance.

“Release her now,” a saving voice came, and the attacking woman obeyed, but that savior wasn’t Mason. When the obnoxious woman had gone, a much older woman had taken her place.

“Don’
t allow the press to bother you,” the woman spoke with an old southern drawl. “They are vultures really. Surpassing their rightful bounds.”

“Oh. Thank you.” For a minute there, Avery had honestly thought
the attacker was the one of the unwed daughters. The relief she felt was immeasurable. The old woman didn’t sit for long however.

“Prince Mason.” She jumped from her seat and bowed. Avery followed her attention and lit up. Happy to see him, she sprung from the seat and bid the others a hasty farewell. She might have said it was nice to meet them
or see you later. But her words had jumbled, and her mind didn’t pick up on exactly what went down.

“Calm down.” Mason must have been noticing it when he handed her the drink. She took a swig, unaware what the black liquid in the cup actually was, and she barely tasted the drink anyways.

“If this has alcohol in this, I think I might.” Avery still managed a smile. Where was Nate when she needed him?

Mason’s eyebrow arched
, but he said nothing. The crowd was mercilessly staying away from them now and even with such a massive crowded room, the acoustics weren’t defining. Isolated, Avery did gather her nerves.

“A lot to take in. And for a minute there, I forgot how much harpies like to...debate
,” she finally said. “Are you going to give me the four-one-one on everything?”

Mason slipped an arm around her back and guided her to look out into the crowd with him.

“These dances are almost wholly used for networking. But they have different titles, purposes. It’s so people really can see the Prince. The other royals anyways. I have to reassure them I’m still going to be open to their opinions. Promise them I am leading our world in the right direction.

“Most of it’s for
show. The important opinions come from within the council. And most of the council is royal anyways.”

“
Seems so fair.”

“
It’s not fair, it’s politics. Come here. Let’s dance before people have too much to drink and begin swarming with terrible bloody suggestions.”

Avery giggled. Mason was managing an overly sophisticated voice for the attitude that waited underneath. She barely paid attention when he guided her to the center of the floor. They were far from the only ones out there
, but she still managed to feel completely alone.

The music was slow and the dance mainly swaying. The
greatest difficulty was the height difference and the five-inch heels that were intended to make up for it. She took every step deliberately and slowly. It wasn’t apparent how much energy she’d burned from her utter focus until the song ended.

Mason pulled back an inch and stole Avery from her daze.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just asked if I may cut
in.” It wasn’t Mason’s voice that answered her. She pivoted to see Stern standing beside them. Mason left without a word and she stepped in with Stern.

“Don’t be so nervous,” Stern beckoned. “I’m just an old man.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just...” Getting used to everything? She’d said that a dozen times this night. It didn’t matter too much. The music increased and she focused on her steps again. Stern only chatted lightly. The same questions people always gave her. Do you like the capitol? How are you and Mason?