Two days later, I stood in front of my full-length mirror, still blinking like the reflection wasn't me.
Somehow, Dryad had found a dress that actually fit. She said she bought it, but considering I hadn't seen her leave my apartment in two whole days and she never once asked for my measurements, I had suspicions. Dark ones. Did she mug a fashion artisan? Bribe a stylist Fluxer? Was there some illegal portal she frequented?
Either way, the damn thing was perfect. The fabric was like soft, liquid night stitched with barely-there green embroidery at the hem and around the collar. It hugged my waist like it had been begging to, flared around my hips like a whisper, and had just enough structure at the top to hold my chest in without suffocating me, which, let's be honest, was a miracle considering Dryad's previous offer.
Which, by the way, was a straight-up tragedy. She tried to hand me one of her dresses. I'd barely gotten it past my thighs before it screamed surrender. My Flux awakening really overdid my body proportions.
"No offense, but your wardrobe is made for fey princesses. I'm built like a war crime."
She rolled her eyes and muttered something about "luxuryproblem," before disappearing through a portal and coming back with this dress in her arms.
Also, for the record, I didn't wear any makeup. I had not touched a single product since my Flux awakening. When you got skin that literally erased all blemishes, scars, and any trace of under-eye baggage, adding foundation felt like putting glitter on an angel's halo. It felt pointless and over-the-top.
So I walked out that apartment glowing like a goddess and not even trying.
And then I portaled in the dead of night. One second I was standing in my hallway, and the next, I was standing in the throne room of Lyers Mand.
Now, one would think I would be used to Erae's absurd architecture by now but Lyers Mand was a different beast entirely. Gravity orientation still made me dizzy for a few seconds since the castle was on the ground.
And then I saw her in the throne room.
Dryad was wearing a green dress that looked like someone had tailored the forest into elegance.
It was this deep, jeweled green that made her dark mocha skin glow like bronze fire. Her silver eyes shimmered beneath curled lashes, and her dark curly hair was pinned up with golden accents that I swear moved like they were alive.
I stopped walking. I just stood there staring like a moron. She turned and smirked.
"You're staring."
"You're glowing."
"So are you."
I let out a slow breath. "This is weird."
"What? Complimenting each other before walking into a high-pressure political event that could define your entire existence?"
"Yes. Exactly that."
She laughed. I looked around.
"Where's Gamma? I thought she was always on top of these events."
"Oh, she and Elias are on their honeymoon. She deserves it. They haven't had a break since the Second Thauma."
"Gamma's married?"
"Yep, to Elias at the age of seventeen. Flux-Architect. Gorgeous, broody, builds floating fortresses in his spare time. It's a thing."
"Well, damn. Good for her."
"Poor woman needs a century-long nap and a beach house. But for now, she gets a few days of vacation and a private suite for her."
Of course she did.
I glanced down at my dress one more time and smoothed it, nerves creeping in despite how well it fit, despite how perfectly I looked the part.
"You sure I can do this?"
Dryad gave me that look, the one she gave me when I doubted myself.
"You're already doing it. And when you walk into that conference hall, no one's going to see some dead girl from a lost city."
The moment the room shifted again, I felt it. That prickly shift in atmosphere that made the air tighten just enough to make you look up.
Phaser entered the throne room like he owned it.
And okay, maybe he kind of did. Not legally or politically, but presence-wise? He moved like someone who had walked through every kind of hell and learned how to turn the flames into style.
He wore a fitted black suit that looked like it was sewn with threads of shadow, the tailoring so sharp it probably violated international laws. His multicolored eyes glinted under the light like he saw a layer of truth I couldn't even comprehend.
And standing right beside him was her. His plus one.
A woman was wearing a golden dress that clung to her body like it was trying to seduce the entire room. Her hair was a smooth waterfall of black, pinned into an elegant coil, her makeup flawless, and her shoes looked like they were forged from stardust.
She was also practically glued to his side.
Clingy didn't even cover it. She had a hand looped into his arm like she thought the floor would eat her if she let go, her body language practically screaming mine in neon.
And I had no idea why, but I didn't like it.
At all.
Before I could analyze that, I flinched as a voice echoed in my head.
Oh no. You're jealous already? That was fast.
I turned my head toward Dryad, who smiled like she hadn't just spoken directly into my soul.
Telepathy? Really?
She gave me a smug little shrug and mentally added:
Well, your thoughts were practically shouting. And for the record, he does look good today. But oof... clingy golden girl. Yikes.
I tried not to choke on my breath.
Phaser, as always, looked like he couldn't care less about the undercurrent of drama that followed him. He gave us a simple nod.
"You ready?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but Golden Girl beat me to it.
"Oh by the five goddesses, you must be Permonelle! You're so pretty, wow!"
She said, practically bouncing as she extended a hand toward me.
Her smile was almost too wide, like she was auditioning for a toothpaste ad. I reached out to shake her hand, and the moment our skin touched, a rush of thoughts hit me like a floodgate ripped open.
Her ass isn't even that nice. Ugh, why does everyone keep talking about her? She's not that special. Phaser should've picked me for this stupid meeting. Wait, why is she looking at me like that? Did she hear, no. No, she couldn't have.
I yanked my hand back like she'd burned me. She kept smiling. I did not.
Dryad raised a brow, clearly having caught the vibe, if not the literal thoughts.
Before I could even begin to process what I'd just heard—or felt—the woman lifted her hand and sliced it gently through the air. A golden shimmer split space in front of us, opening into a portal.
Wait. She opened it?
Phaser walked through it like it was nothing, Dryad following close behind.
I hesitated just for a second. Because something about this didn't sit right. At all.
Her thoughts. That portal. The way she clung to him like she had a right to.
And as I stepped through the shimmer and felt the world change around me, one question echoed louder than the rest.
Who the hell is she?