Half of Ruby

Chapter 40 (Part 2)

"Anyways," he said. "How are you?" 

"I am...I am well." Ember stared at Ronan. "You shouldn't wear a suit." 

Immediately, she bit back her words, blushing as Ronan quirked an eyebrow at her. "I could say the same about your makeup, young lady." 

Ember grinned. "Susannah did it." 

Ronan frowned. "Susannah? She gave you the gown?" 

"Yes." 

Ronan's eyes widened. "Ember—"

"Mr. Parris!" 

Ember yelped as Kaya scuttled towards them, head bent and dark hair pulled back under a white silk cap. With her black gown and white apron, she looked like a strange combination between a mourner at a funeral and a chef. 

"Mr. Parris, your father is asking for you," said Kaya. "Your presence is required." 

Ronan frowned. "What do you mean?" 

Kaya stared at him as though he'd sprouted three eyes. "Your father wants you to greet Lord Tivas and his daughter, Yvonne." 

"They arrived forty-five minutes late?" said Ronan, his voice harsh. 

"Yes...Miss Tivas, apparently, held a fit at their inn. It took quite a while to get her here." 

Ronan let out a thin hiss of frustration. "Very well." He turned towards Ember. "Ember, be careful—"

"You are required right now!" squeaked Kaya. She scurried back into the crowd, forcefully reminding Ember of Mendax, and Ronan disappeared after her. 

Mendax. The Ombretroix Coven. If it really was eight o'clock, she had four hours left to kiss Ronan. 

With Yvonne's arrival...that seemed nearly impossible. 

Taking a deep breath, Ember picked apart her chocolate tart, the taste bittersweet against her tongue. Another sandwich, and she felt stuffed.

Despair overwhelmed her as her fingers clenched the plate, whitening to the same shade as the porcelain. Taking a deep breath, she stumbled against the wall, sliding down against it. 

A loud roar emitted from the entrance, waves of silence radiating through the ballroom. Ember, as well as the rest of the crowd, turned towards the double doors. 

"Announcing Lord Tivas and his daughter, Miss Yvonne Tivas!" 

Murmurs shot through the party-goers as four men stepped through the door—Ronan, Lord Parris, and an attendant, dressed in mournful black. 

And then Lord Tivas and Yvonne entered, accompanied by yet another servant. 

Gasps radiated through the audience as Yvonne emerged, scowling, delicate features contorted with rage. Astonishment swept through Ember as she stared at the young woman. 

She wore a dress of cerulean, silken blue fabric sweeping over the ground in waves of azure light, crested with white ripples of embroidery. Sapphires ensnared her wrists and neck, little more than bejeweled cuffs, as her eyes flashed with fury, as blue as the rest of her ensemble.

But nobody noticed her dress, as gorgeous as it was. 

Rather, two-hundred pairs of eyes focused on her hair. 

Dark waves skimmed her waist, tangled and knotted, an almost-feral waterfall of chocolate brown. Contained neither by a cap nor an elaborate hairdo, it possessed a wild, galling, raw beauty. 

But dark, angry hisses laced through the audience, driving away any awe Ember possessed. 

"...from England..."