drink. Her talk was out of touch, like the beliefs of those long ago who didn’t understand that magicians were more than just chattel to put to work. That their magic was not simply there to be used for those without.
Soltair had moved forward from that thinking. Except for Glorian, apparently.
“Sure, but why waste power for some vanity show?” Janette growled as she unfolded her wrist cuffs. “This town has not seen magic for ages, and we’ve survived. It’s nothing but a mistake to start again.”
He almost pressed her for more on what she’d meant, but she’d already begun talking up the other magician near her. The moment, lost.
Glumly, Daron turned back to his plate. He wasn’t very good at this. After years of interacting with only his house staff, with his butler, Gastav, he’d grown rusty in the ways of cunning conversation. Not that he was an expert in the first place. But here, he came off even more graceless than usual. The Patrons might’ve gotten him this far, but it did not guarantee smoothness.
This pointless dinner had ended up being more of a trial than he’d imagined. Daron only attended in hopes of hearing more about Glorian. Unfortunately, it turned into a night of meaningless talk about places outside of the city. As well as prying into his showman’s past and family, which he artfully dodged. A skill he’d acquired through no grace at all, but necessity.
If Daron had taken a drink for every time someone dropped his stage name or the Patrons, they’d have to cart him back to his room.
“Got any plans after this, Daring?” Ives nudged his shoulder with a hushed whisper. “Some of the gents and I were thinking of having some fun. Come out with us tonight.”
His brow jutted up high. “In Glorian? Doesn’t seem like there’s much of a nightlife here at all.” Not much of a day life, either.
“No, not in the city.” Ives winked, with a warning nod the mayor’s way. His voice dropped lower. “There’s a club out in the Woods. Best kept secret in town.”
Daron couldn’t think of a more unappealing idea. “Sorry, don’t think I’ll be able to join.”
“Oh, come on,” Ives drawled. “You need to let loose a little!”
Monk magician. He wouldn’t be surprised if this contestant threw the term around behind his back with everyone else. As if he gave a damn about it. Or some nightclub in a cursed forest. He wasn’t that kind of magician anymore.
Without a second thought, Daron placed his napkin over his plate.
“Turning in so soon, Demarco?” the mayor observed, red-cheeked and rather loudly, enough to rouse the whole table’s attention.
Daron only continued buttoning up his jacket. “Thank you for the meal, Mayor Eilin, but I’m not sure I have room for much more.”
“Nonsense! We were just about to run through the layout of the competition. Can’t imagine you’d want to miss that, for how eager you’ve been to judge and all.”
Eager. A generous word.
“Oh, if the pup wants to go, let him,” Judge Bouquet muttered, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “Not everything can be fun and games. We’ve got important business to discuss here.”
Daron’s fingers paused. Rather than stalk back to his room, he very deliberately unbuttoned his jacket and lowered back into his seat. “I would hate to miss it, then.”
The bite in his reply irked the old judge all the same. The rest of the table saw nothing of it, pressing closer as the mayor began to rise.
Erasmus triumphantly shot up first.
“Congratulations, contestants,” he said, beaming. “You ten have made it here from all corners of Soltair to be a part of something truly spectacular. Over the years, I’ve put on grand caravans of side acts, large-scale theatricals, and all manner of shows to entertain and amaze, but never one like this. A competitive audition, live to the public, to reveal who will be crowned as the next headlining act in my Conquering Circus.”
A small chill ran down Daron’s spine at the ringleader’s words, and a quick glance across the table was proof the effect was not lost on anyone. Especially Kallia, who bore the hungriest expression from her eyes alone, burning with a hope that charged the room.
“Over the next month, our competition will consist of three acts. The remaining contestants, determined by voters’ choice and judges’ scores—with the first round shaving off three of the weakest showmen. After the second, another three,” Erasmus continued. “And the last performance, the mentor round, will be