The Art of Courts and Lies (Book 1 in The Gifted Trilogy)

9- An Unlikely Ally

Luckily, it didn't come down to me having to choose between wearing Kesserian's dress or nothing at all.

    A simple inventory of the closet placed directly across from my bed displayed evidence that someone had prepared the room for a guest by prepping the closet with multiple sets of clothing; some athletic or leisure clothes while also containing a few ballgowns.

    The memory of the wealthy loyalists staring me down from the pews earlier today as if I was a pretty new toy for them to play with had my hand skimming past the beautiful gowns and picking a much less formal outfit.

    The blunt casualty of the outfit was evident the moment my two escorts entered the room. Their eyes narrowed at my outfit as their brows furrowed together. I smirked at the action. I had chosen to adorn a pair of skin tight black leggings as well as a loose white top that was comfortable and easy to move in but gave a strong message: I was not going to play into their little games by dressing myself up like a prized show-pony.

    I ignored the two men's looks and swept past them, heading down the way I remembered them leading me the first time. They quickly caught up and positioned themselves on both sides of me. As if I was dumb enough to try to make an escape now of all times.

    Their silence allowed me to study the halls as we passed them, trying to remember the route. However, by the time they reached a different part of the castle that I had yet to see, the path had already become too complex to bother trying to memorize any further.

    Up more stairs, down more halls until finally, we were at the doors that were left ajar, allowing me to see into the ballroom in front of me.

    The room was designed unlike any place in the castle I had seen yet. The floor appeared to be a kaleidoscope of colors, no definite pattern to be identified. The blazing lights above only seemed to add to the chaos of color around me. My eyes caught on the walls of the room, where the windows were colored panes covered in designs and symbols, as if telling some story.

    As I surveyed the crowd around me, I realized just how much my outfit would make me stand out and silently cursed myself for being so stubborn in order to prove a point. A meaningless, idiotic point at that.

    Everywhere I turned, there were men dressed in the finest suits and women decked out in likely their most valuable jewelry and gowns. I caught the gaze of a few of the aristocrats and at their sneers, I knew that despite what Kess had said, this ball was not truly meant for the participants of the Garner.

    No. Just like the challenge we were expected to perform tomorrow, this was simply another one of their shows.

    I felt an arm grasp mine to pull me deeper into the room and as I turned to hiss at whoever had the nerve to touch me, I quickly stopped the moment I recognized the smooth dark skin.

    Briar grinned at me as she took in my appearance. "Well done, Wren Heatherfield" she praised, practically shining with delight. "Not even I was creative enough to think up a way to insult those bastards at their own ball. Not like this, at least."

    I took in her own dress, which was a dark blue that complimented her complexion beautifully. I gripped her arm back as I examined the room yet again, finding even more glares aimed in my direction than before. "Oh god" I muttered. "Please just kill me now."

    Briar let out a soft chuckle at that. "I think they intend to try tomorrow. Besides, where would I be with my only ally gone? Surrounded in a den of wolves, completely alone yet again."

    "I'm sure at least one of the other sixteen girls are bound to have a little rebel spark in them" I replied easily, searching for one of their faces that I would recognize.