I wasn't about to start conversations with a table full of people who could sniff out weakness or slip a dagger of mockery between my ribs with just a phrase. Thales had that covered anyway.
He was in his element, leaning into conversations with Asmarion and the others like he had known them for years. His laughter blended with theirs easily and it was almost unfair how good he was at that kind of thing.
I was focused on the food.
I hadn't eaten all day and if this body had one weakness, it was the way it reveled in flavors. I devoured platters of roasted meats, spiced vegetables, golden bread and fruits that looked like they were picked minutes before, dripping with sweetness. I wasn't about to pass up a table like this, especially when it was free.
I didn't care if I was technically a foreigner in someone else's country without a passport, visa, or any legal papers. None of that mattered here. In my old life, that would have meant detention or deportation. Here? It meant sitting in a rich man's pyramid palace on a national holiday, stuffing my face while a harpist played in the background.
The roasted meat was my weakness. I don't know what animal it came from but it was tender and charred just right, seasoned with spices that burst across my tongue in waves. I didn't care about appearances anymore. Let Thales be the social butterfly. Let the sisters stare and whisper. I was going to enjoy myself.
I was mid-bite about to tear into a second cut of meat when the atmosphere shifted. Conversations dimmed like someone had reached over and turned the volume knob down across the entire floor. A presence entered the room that didn't need to announce itself.
The Ruler of House Rameses had arrived.
He stepped forward, his dark wavy hair flowing down his back. His skin was a deep, rich chocolate tone and his robes shimmered with a brilliance that wasn't ostentation, but radiance. By his side, his wife stood, lighter in skin tone. Her beauty was radiant. Together, they looked less like man and wife and more like a living portrait of Pharaoh and his wife.
I swallowed quickly, trying not to look like a starving man who wandered in from the street. The Ruler raised his hand. His voice carried across the room.
"Tonight, we welcome the turning of the seasons. This is the first night of spring, the renewal of life, the rebirth of cycles that have guided our people since before memory. And tonight, we also celebrate a moment no less sacred, and that is the coming of age of one of our daughters."
My eyes shifted, almost instinctively, toward Nefira. She stood among her sisters but I could see the faint nervousness in her eyes.
"Nefira Rameses, my third daughter, steps into her complete adulthood this night. And as custom dictates, she will lead the ceremonial dance that honors the blessings of spring."
The crowd applauded and though Nefira bowed her head in acknowledgment, I swore I caught the faintest flicker of her eyes darting across the room toward me. I looked away quickly, focusing on my plate. I wasn't sure why that glance burned hotter than the spices on the meat.
"It is no small matter to stand as lead dancer, to embody grace, strength, and devotion before the eyes of our people and the Goddesses themselves. She bears this role with honor and tonight, she steps fully into her place as a woman of House Rameses."
The applause swelled again, louder this time. I clapped too, partly because it seemed appropriate and also because I didn't want to stand out more than I already did. But as my hands struck together, something caught in the back of my mind.
If Nefira was turning nineteen tonight, that meant two of her sisters were younger. Seventeen? Sixteen? And yet they looked every bit as poised, mature, and radiant as women in their twenties. That threw me off. MoDS never mentioned the specifics of ages of the Rameses sisters. Everyone looked conveniently "adult" enough for romance routes. But here, seeing it in flesh and bone? It hit differently. They were too mature for their ages.
The Ruler's voice drew me back.
"And yet, though the night is for her, it is not for her alone. We celebrate all who have come here, all who share in this moment with us. And tonight, we are honored beyond measure. For among our guests stands a name we have not seen in years. The House of Argemenes."
The spotlight turned, suddenly, directly onto me. I froze, halfway through reaching for another piece of meat.
"The heir of the House, Phasnovterich Argemenes, graces us with his presence."
I felt every eye in the chamber slide toward me. The applause was polite and restrained, but sharp with curiosity. House Argemenes didn't send their heirs out like this or show their faces in ceremonies and here I was, eating roasted meat like a starved peasant at a royal banquet.
And here's the thing. He didn't even mention Thales, which was strange. The Erdicts weren't exactly nobodies. If anything, they were a powerhouse in combat. However, the Ruler skipped him entirely, zeroed in on me, and let the silence swallow Thales like he wasn't even sitting at the same table.
That… wasn't an accident.
Why me? Why so much emphasis on me?
And why the hell did it feel like I was just shoved into a spotlight I never asked for?
That's when Nefira rose up as some of the young dancers appeared next to her.
The timing was divine. Just as her feet touched the polished floor of the hall, the full moon broke free of the drifting clouds and spilled moonlight across the venue. Torches dimmed in obedience to that light. The musicians stirred, plucking their strings.
It was... sensual?
To elaborate in easier elaborate terms, their hips swayed with serpentine precision, their arms cut arcs through the air and their feet barely seemed to touch the ground as the rhythm kicked in. Every sway of their waists, every snap of their shoulders and every delicate twist of their wrists drew eyes from everyone in the hall. And leading them all, like a flame leading moths, was Nefira.
Her outfit was a weapon in itself. Layers of silk wrapped her body, cut high enough to show long legs and tight at the waist to emphasize her curves. Gold embroidery caught the moonlight, glittering like stars against her chocolate-hued skin. But the most dangerous part was her veil. It was thin and translucent that almost revealed her eyes.
She moved like temptation incarnate, rolling her hips, snapping into sharp belly-dance shimmies, then slowing into a sway that made one want to lean closer and risk everything for just one more glimpse. She was untouchable, yet I couldn't look away.
I wasn't the only one. The hall was silent except for the music. Guests leaned forward with parted lips. Some were breathing heavily. Even Thales had his eyes fixed on her.
That's when I noticed Xana.
It was everywhere. Wisps of energy bled from everyone, shimmering in colors unique to each person. Reds, blues, silvers, greens and so on. Some flickered faintly and others whipped around like wildfire. I looked down at myself.
Shit.
Obsidian smoke was seeping from my arms and chest, curling around me like shadowy vines. It was responding on its own. I'd seen this before in fragments of Phasnovterich's memories where art, music and ritual could sometimes stir a person's inner essence. But this was on another level.
Nefira suddenly broke from the line of dancers. Her hips swayed as her eyes locked on mine. She didn't look at Thales. She didn't look at the nobles. She walked straight to me as if the rest of the room didn't exist.
My pulse spiked. She stopped in front of me, only a breath away. Then, without hesitation, she extended her hand. I should have pulled back but when her fingers brushed mine, all my thoughts went out the window.
Her Xana erupted in golden flames, wrapping around her body like a halo. The moment our palms met, her gold intertwined with my obsidian smoke. The fusion was immediate, violent and beautiful. A storm of darkness and light spiraled around us in a golden-black corona. Gasps rose from everyone but Nefira's eyes never left mine.
She leaned slightly closer, her veil brushing the air between us. Her voice was intimate, carried by the rhythm of the drums.
"Your soul burns darker than the night, stranger. I find it beautiful."
A shiver ran through me. I didn't answer. And just as quickly, she spun away, slipping back into the group of dancers as though nothing had happened. I could still feel her touch. I could still see the golden streaks of Xana twining with mine.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I caught myself smiling.
So this was the secret of the House of Rameses. They weren't feared only for their wealth or their lineage. Their strength was their ability to use elements and bend Xana itself with something as simple and devastating as a dance. No wonder other Houses envied them. And maybe that's why they're interested in me.
The performance rose to its crescendo with drums quickening, strings cutting sharper and hips snapping faster. And then, as the flutes wound down, the dancers froze in their final pose with Nefira at the center, her chest rising and falling, her veil still in place.
There was silence for a few seconds. Then an eruption of applause and cheers filled the air. I clapped along with them, though slower, still catching my breath. Thales leaned toward me. His voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to it.
"You alright?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Because even though everyone's Xana was drawn out tonight, yours was the most reactive."
I forced a shrug, stabbing my fork back into the roasted meat I abandoned earlier.
"It's nothing."
But inside, I wasn't so sure.