Rhy laughed at Zeph’s flirtatious remarks, enjoying her easy ways and outrageous loveliness. Across the room, Salena glanced over, a set expression on her face, before she looked back at Astar and Jak, pasting on a patently fake smile for them. Rhy knew all of Salena’s smiles, and that one was her I’m-pretending-I’m-not-really-upset smile.
“Tonight is hard for her, too,” Stella said, tapping the two littlest fingers of her left hand against the goblet. “She doesn’t want to be here either.”
“She doesn’t?” Maybe Rhy didn’t know her as well as he’d thought. Salena had seemed to be eating up the attention from Astar and Jak. And that dress…
“Dafne didn’t have to make it a royal command,” Zeph agreed with a flutter of black lashes, “but I hear it was a near thing. Lena is here under protest, too. A pity, as I’d think you two would love the rest of us enough to want to attend. We’re never together anymore.”
“I see you and Gendra all the time,” he protested, then tugged on one of Stella’s dark curls. “And Willy and Nilly here nearly as often.” It was only Jak and Salena he hadn’t seen as much. “I can’t help it if Jak and Lena are always off adventuring.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Stella replied, eyes darkening and magic making her hair coil around his fingers as she focused on him. Rhy knew that sorcerous look well from his mother and had to resist backing up from it. “I’d like a gift from you tonight.”
“I didn’t think to bring gifts,” he admitted. Tala just weren’t that great with things, but that was an excuse. He hadn’t been thinking about his friends much at all—he’d been trying so hard not to think about the past. And Salena.
Stella huffed at him. “Moranu is the goddess of the intangible. Even mossback tradition recognizes that, so we give gifts of promises and favors.”
Ah. That explained all the scrolls. Now that he thought about it, his mother had tried to explain that to him, but he’d been too annoyed with her to listen. “I’m an idiot,” he told Stella with a smile, mentally apologizing to his mother, too. Something he’d never do aloud. “What would you ask of me, cousin?”
“You can make it easy for us to be together, Rhy. This group has always followed your lead, and that’s where I want you to take us. That’s the gift I ask of you tonight.”
Zeph, who’d been uncharacteristically silent till now, smothered a laugh and quickly drank from her goblet, but her blue eyes sparkled with amusement at his expense. He scowled at her, then smoothed his annoyance to turn back to Stella. “This group follows Astar’s lead.” He gestured with his mug at the golden prince, holding forth with expansive gestures as he told some tale that had Salena, Jak, and Gendra laughing uproariously. “As it should be.”
Stella gave him a pitying look. “I love you, Rhy, but you can be very thick skulled.”
Zeph actually choked on her whiskey, so Rhy pounded her on the back, much harder than was helpful. She escaped him by briefly becoming a black cat—who clawed his wrist with a brisk swipe before she manifested again, perfectly coiffed and in the same crimson gown and matching jewels. Just figured she’d mastered that trick, too. Nursing his bleeding wrist, he gave her a warning glare.
“Will you do it?” Stella prompted, gazing at him with earnest entreaty.
“I will do my best,” he promised her. It was impossible to refuse Stella anything.
She beamed, happiness lighting her eyes to a silver as bright as her gown. “That’s all any of us asks of you, Rhy. Not the impossible. Just your best.”
He’d opened his mouth to reply when Astar called out for everyone to gather at the fireplace. Dutifully, they all obeyed—Stella was crazy to suggest that anyone but Astar led their group—and they made a circle around a black-draped table set with pieces of paper, crystal-tipped quills, and elegant short glasses.
“We’re going to have our own ceremony,” Astar informed them. “And a special toast.”
“For a special toast, we should open the mjed,” Jak said, surveying the setup. He punched Rhy on the shoulder. “Help me out, Rhy.”
Though they were speaking Common Tongue, Rhy heard the command sense from his half-Dasnarian friend anyway. “Have you gotten so puny that you need my shapeshifter strength?” he taunted.
Jak grinned. “Yeah, that’s it.”
The four women stood together on one side of the table, their soft laughter