Swallowing hard, I moved a little more quickly to keep pace with the Duchess. I had fallen behind a few steps, and if she looked back and saw me, I would probably be in for a scolding. The trumpets continued their song, the ribbons of light rained glitter on me, and the cheering never stopped or slowed.

  That was good. It meant things were going well. I really was fooling the Fae—they thought I was one of them. At least, most of them did. Some, I didn’t think were too sure about me. Either that, or they were sizing me up, and that made sense since it was the other Ladies whose eyes I couldn’t escape.

  Lady Violet lowered her eyes and turned her chin up at me as I looked at her. One of her eyebrows arched, and a little smirk played across her lips. I wasn’t sure what to do, how to look at her, what expression to give. Slowly, she shut her eyes, and nodded at me, as if to acknowledge my presence.

  I nodded in return.

  Lady Isolde, who had come in on the heels of a martial arts display, never once gazed upon the Duchess ahead of me. She was more interested in figuring out just how hard of a fight I was going to give her. I noticed her hand move to the hilt of the blade by her waist, her eyes narrowing further. Lacking a weapon of my own, I pulled my eyes away from her to scan the last of the other Ladies who had entered Emerald Hall; Petal.

  Petal seemed a little… preoccupied with the light show shimmering silently above. Her eyes were wide, her lips had parted somewhat, and as I watched the light reflections dance across her face, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was anyone really in there. She looked vacant, empty, or maybe she just wanted everyone to think that.

  I was just glad her eyes weren’t on me.

  They were the only ones, in fact, that weren’t.

  “Don’t stare,” came a voice beamed into the back of my mind.

  “Rell,” I thought. “Don’t distract me right now.”

  “I can’t promise you that. Now, walk!”

  Taking a deep breath, I made sure I caught up to the Duchess just as she reached the podium. When she turned around, she smiled at me and offered me her hand. I knew I had to smile back and take it, graciously, but I wasn’t built for etiquette and fancy things. I probably looked like a newborn deer just learning to walk as I reached the stage and took her hand.

  “Could you be any less graceful?” Rell asked. “I think they’ve almost caught onto you.”

  “You’re not helping!” I hissed inside of my head as I stepped up to the podium.

  “I’m only half trying to help. The other half of me thinks it’d be hilarious to watch you slip and fall.”

  “Yeah, and then we don’t ever get out of this vegetable house. Think about that.”

  The applaud, the cheering, and the trumpets all slowly faded to silence as the Duchess indicated to the crowd that she wished to speak. There had to be a hundred people assembled in the grand hall. Maybe two hundred. More if you included all of our own staff, and guards.

  This was way more of a crowd than I’d ever have gotten back at the Blind Racoon, but they weren’t here to listen to me play Burn It Down, or That Blond Bitch. I would probably have felt way more comfortable up on that stage if I’d had my guitar and a cold brew. As it was, I felt like a hideous, random cactus in a forest full of evergreens, and everyone was staring.

  With a simple wave of her hand, the Duchess commanded the attention of the room. And when she spoke, everybody listened.

  CHAPTER 4

  “Colleagues,” the Duchess said, with a voice that easily covered the entirety of the grand hall. “Peers, and esteemed guests. On behalf of Emerald Hall and all her servants, I bid you welcome.”

  Her words deserved a soft round of applause from everyone gathered, including the nobility. I watched the sea of clapping hands, joining in myself almost a few seconds too late; I barely managed to catch the tail end of it before the clapping ended.

  “The time of the Favoring is upon us,” she continued, “Soon, four young ladies will embark on a journey to bring prestige to their Houses. It is a time of renewal, of growth, and of competition, and while in the end there can only be a single victor, they will all be awarded some measure of prestige recognized by Arcadia herself, and all those who dwell within her warm embrace. With the Kingdom’s eyes watching us now, I give my thanks, and offer a promise; as Duchess of this, the great House chosen as your host, we will have the finest Favoring the land has ever seen!”

  More applause erupted like the roar of a hundred lions. I thought I could feel the ground shaking under my feet. On the one hand, it was a comforting sound that brought up a familiar, warm sensation. I’d experienced this almost every night of my life for the past few years, playing my heart out for drunks and the outcasts, for all of those people who felt like they didn’t fit in anywhere else outside of that dive bar.

  But on the other hand, seeing them all cheering, clapping, watching the way the women’s dresses would flow with their movements, catching the glint of light on all the jewelry in the room… it took that warm feeling and tore it to shreds. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t fit in here. I was an impostor, and I didn’t want to be here.

  The Duchess raised her hands, then gestured gently downwards. The noise gradually dimmed, as if she was turning the volume down with her own presence.

  “Dukes, Duchesses,” Invidia said, “Please, step forward with your wards.”

  On command, the gathered crowd parted to allow for the three groups of high nobles from each House to approach the podium. Duke Clement and Lady Violet. Duke Khan and Lady Isolde. Duchess Lyra and Lady Petal.

  They studied Invidia first, then me. Khan’s eyes seemed to pause, and narrow, like a dog catching a strange scent it couldn’t recognize. It made my heart start to pound and an anxious chill flood my chest. I decided to mirror Lady Violet’s gesture from before, shutting my eyes and offering a polite nod in his direction. When I opened them again, he didn’t seem so suspicious.

  Maybe I’d thrown him off that weird scent he’d picked up.

  “My Lords and Ladies,” Invidia said. “It is with the greatest of honors that I host you and your parties at our House. Your wards have all been exceptionally trained—I can see it in their eyes. That fire, that passion… it burns within them all.”

  All except Petal, who still looks totally lost.

  Khan was the first to speak, his voice like that of a purring tiger. “Duchess Invidia,” he said, offering a bow, “Lady Kadeera, Vermillion Manor offers its thanks to you and your House. May the Fates smile on us all.”

  “Indeed,” said Invidia, turning to me, and suddenly I found myself under even more intense scrutiny than ever.

  She wanted me to speak.

  She wanted me to say something.

  Anything.

  But I was drawing blank.

  Then I remembered something Elaith had taught me, the one thing that had truly stuck with me. The Fae loved pageantry, and to be told how awesome they were above all else. So much so, that a well-placed compliment could probably get a person out of just about any imaginable bind. I decided to try it.

  “My Lord,” I said, bowing low. “You humble us with your presence.”

  I didn’t turn my eyes up at him, but I knew he was watching me, Lady Isolde was watching me, Invidia was watching me—the entire House had its eyes on me. Instead, I waited, and waited, and waited…

  “Quite,” came Duke Khan’s voice, a low growl of approval. “I thank you for your kind words, Kadeera Nightbloom.”

  With that, I turned my eyes up at him, then straightened out. Invidia glared at me, but I wasn’t sure if she approved or disapproved of what had just happened.

  It couldn’t have been too bad, right?

  “Why don’t we ask her ourselves?” Rell asked, his voice manifesting in the space between my ears.

  “You know,” I thought, “I really don’t like it when you read my random thoughts.”

  “I don’t choose to do it, sometimes I just hear them. I can’t turn it off now that we’re bound.”

  “Wait, bound?” I asked, only I caught myself saying the words instead of thinking them.

  My heart shot into my throat as the murmurs began to flutter through the room. It pounded, hammered, jumped, danced—everything except beat normally. I couldn’t control it. I almost wished it would just leap out of my mouth, hit the floor, and start twerking or something; anything to get the attention off me.

  “Now you’ve done it,” Rell said.

  “Shut up!” I thought. “See what you’ve done? You threw me off!”

  “You’re the one that spoke.”

  Invidia placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it tightly enough to make her point clear. I had dropped the ball already, and she wasn’t happy. “My Lords and Ladies,” she declared, gathering the room’s divided attentions again. “If you would like to follow us, it’s time for the book to be signed.”

  Oh shit. The book.

  It felt like years ago since Elaith had told me about it. Warned me about it, more like. This was supposed to be the moment, the point of no return. We, the Ladies of each competing House, were about to write our names into a book made from the oldest tree in the Kingdom of Spring; a book that was supposed to predate all the greatest, and oldest Houses themselves.

  A book, it was said, read by Fate herself.

  Until now, the Favoring—and my part in it—was all talk. I knew I had to take part in some competition, but it all felt pretty far away, like the horizon on the ocean. But as I and the other Ladies marched through the great hall into a little annex just off to the side, and I caught a glimpse of the table on which the book sat, it all suddenly became very, very real.

  My name was about to go into that book, and under normal circumstances, it probably wouldn’t have been that much of a big deal. Okay, yes, officially signing myself into a Fae competition was a big deal, sure. But the problem was, I wasn’t me.

  At least, I wasn’t Kadeera, and nobody knew what was going to happen when I put my pen against the book.

  If this was the book that Fate read, then what would happen to me when I wrote into it a name that wasn’t my own? Disintegration? Alarm bells? A curse? The jury was out on that. Elaith didn’t know, Rell didn’t know, not even Invidia knew.

  And to make matters worse, tradition dictated that the hosting House had to sign their name in first, which meant I was up to bat.

  “This way, please,” Invidia said, stopping by the door to the little annex and gesturing for the other nobles to pass.

  It really was no more than a small room with a desk and a chair, but that book… the book itself was big, chunky, and leather bound. It was brown, adorned with brass edges, a lock, and metal studs to keep it all together. It was meant to stay closed, and locked, at all times, except when someone was signing it. Why? No one had been able to tell me yet.

  As the dignitaries passed, Duchess Invidia pulled a small key from seemingly out of nowhere. “You are clear on what you must do?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  “I am,” I said, maybe a little shakily.

  “Good. Do not mess this up.”

  I was about to take a step, when the Duchess stopped me and said, into the room. “Lady Petal?”

  Petal, who always looked a little lost, finally seemed to snap into focus. She turned her rosy cheeked face at Invidia, cocked her head to the side, and asked, “Yes, Duchess?”

  “If you please,” Invidia gestured toward the book. “I would like for Blossom House to sign first.”

  “Ours?” came the delicate voice of Duchess Lyra.

  “Yes, please.”

  “This is highly irregular,” Duke Clement protested, his voice stiff, and inflexible.

  “Indeed, but it is exciting, is it not?” asked Duchess Invidia.

  She was buying me more time. She didn’t want me to go first just in case something went horribly, horribly wrong. Going last wasn’t any kind of mercy, and it didn’t excuse me from having to sign a fake name into the book. I wasn’t sure why she wanted me to sign last, but I didn’t question it.

  The nobles shared a couple of confused looks. Khan didn’t seem to like this one bit, and neither did Violet. Petal, though, was happy to do as she was told. Once her Duchess nodded, agreeing to Invidia’s request, the air-headed Fae sat on the tall, high-backed chair behind the desk.

  Petal took the fountain pen that had been placed next to the book while Invidia slipped the brass key into the little lock. When she turned the key, the lock gave, and Invidia was free to open it. As soon as she did, a soft breeze filled the room, carrying with it the fresh scent of roses in bloom, as well as the sickly-sweet aroma of… rotting fruit?

  Wait, that’s not right. Is it?

  As if by magic, the pages on the book started flipping and turning all on their own, without encouragement of any kind. Invidia and Petal watched the pages rattle across each other and waited for them to settle. As soon as they did, the little breeze that had engulfed the room settled with them, but the lingering scents it had carried into the room lingered, tingling my nostrils.

  Invidia quickly scanned the open pages, then pointed gently at a spot somewhere down the middle. Where I was standing, I couldn’t see what they were seeing. I didn’t know what was written on those pages, if anything at all, but Petal seemed to take Invidia’s suggestion and put her fountain pen to the page.

  A moment passed as the Fae scribbled into the book.

  Then another.

  And another.

  When Petal was done, she straightened up and set the pen down. Invidia smiled at her, nodded, and gestured for her to stand. It was Isolde’s turn next. With narrow, distrustful, all-seeing eyes, she approached the table, waiting for her Duke’s nod of approval. When he offered it to her, she sat down, took the pen, and wrote into the book without waiting for Invidia’s guidance.

  She was up and standing by her Duke’s side in an instant, leaving even Violet a little stunned. With a deep breath, Violet approached the table, sat down, and took the pen. Invidia pointed, again gently, at the spot where was to write her name. When she was done, she shot me a sly little look, and even something like a grin, before getting up to join her Duke.

  And then it was my turn.

  I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and approached the table. My heart was wedged inside of my throat and thumping like a jackhammer against a cracked sidewalk. I was shaking, off balance, and terrified of what was about to happen. I was in a world of deadly magic, surrounded by monsters, and about to lie to Fate itself.

  Easy does it, Avery, I told myself as I sat down.

  Invidia’s eyes locked with mine, and they burned like they were amethyst gems filled with white fire. Without having to say a word, she said everything there was to say. Taking the pen in my hand felt like handling a dangerous snake; I could barely keep my whole arm from trembling.

  “Sign here,” Invidia said, pointing a finger at a clear spot underneath three other names. They weren’t English names, though. The lettering was all wrong, and the words didn’t make any sense. Though beautifully written, I had no idea what the words written on the mostly empty page meant.

  I stared at the blank space under the last name, written in perfect calligraphic script, and carefully brought my pen to it. I realized in that moment that the Fae weren’t speaking English. They hadn’t been, this entire time. I could understand then, and they could understand me, but it wasn’t because we knew the same language.

  It was magic.

  Now I had to write Kady’s name into the book the best I could, and I was going to have to do it in English, because I had no idea how to write Fae.

  Licking my lips, I brought my pen to the page and pressed the tip against it. I wanted to write the letter K, but already my hand started fighting me. I could see the blot of ink starting to form as it dripped out of the pen, but I couldn’t pull the pen down in a straight line. Panicking, heart pounding, and as beads of sweat started to pop along my neck, I drew my hand diagonally.

  Into the shape of an A.

  Shit.

  I had to go with it. I didn’t have a choice. I wanted to write Kady’s name; Kadeera Nightbloom. But it was as if the page didn’t want me to lie, wouldn’t let me lie. Avery Rose was the name I wrote into the page, as Invidia watched, horrorstruck at what was happening.

  As soon as I was done writing my name into the book, I looked up at the nobles arranged ahead of me. None of them could see what I’d just scribbled onto the page, and Invidia knew that. Quickly, she grabbed the book, slammed it shut, and locked it. Nothing happened. There was no curse that any of us could see, no clear objection from nature herself, and no disintegration.

  The book had accepted my name.

  My real name.

  “And so, it is done,” Invidia declared, putting on her best, most noble smile. “Let the Favoring begin.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Once I’d signed the book, it was time for a party.

  The dignitaries we’d left a moment ago were mingling and chatting while beautiful men and women fluttered between them like fancy butterflies carrying bits of food ornate silver platters. A string band had been brought in, and the music was already in full swing; music that didn’t sound too different to what I was used to back home.

  It reminded me of those instrumental bands that played covers of other popular songs without the vocals. You knew there was supposed to be someone singing, somewhere, but the music worked anyway, the tones rising and falling and bouncing where they had to.

  I couldn’t help but bob my head to it. When I realized I was the only one, I stopped.

  A soft skinned woman with platinum white hair held up in a neat ponytail approached the group as we exited the little room. Her pointed ears were on display, and so were the earrings dangling from them. Some were shiny green studs, others were small, silver hoops with delicate, silver chains running through them.

  One of my hands flew up to one of my own ears, as if to check if it had a point or not. It did. I breathed a sigh of relief.