*Book One of The Accursed Chronicles*
August was a man from a normal world, living a mundane life until one night everything changed, and he was sent spiraling into a world stuck forever in winter, full of magic, creatures, and a curse that has grip...
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After the arrival of Cassian, the night had dragged on with no drama, much to my surprise. Magnus had returned to his normal shade and had come down from the dais to approach Cassian, and I'd thought a brawl would've broken out in a split second, but both only shared a calm conversation before they split ways. Maybe it was for the better that they hadn't gotten into a fight, except it would've made the night less of a boring time if they had.
I'd kept away from the wine after one too many bitter swallows, and then gave up on the ale after my stomach had begun to sour. My meal of mostly ham, bread, and suspicious, nameless soups and pies had been the only saving grace of the night. I'd not even touched the dance floor once and had sat on my ass so long that it had grown numb.
To keep myself entertained, I had been absorbed in people watching and had learned who liked each other and who didn't. Cassian, for example, had steered clear of almost every Krakenite, and in fact all of those from Misonte seemed to stay huddled in a group near the doors. While on the other hand, Magnus had ventured his way over to Klarissa and had stolen her away from her mother. I'd noticed that Altair had turned six shades red when that had happened, looking like he was about ready to blow. That had been the maddest I'd seen anyone all night.
Out of everyone here, Arethusa had turned from dazed and gloomy to upbeat and bright, suddenly down from the dais and clinging to Magnus's arm. Magnus had been entertaining two ladies all evening, while Altair had sulked alone in his chair. I'd almost—very big almost—felt bad for him, but like him and Eirith, I didn't like either of them.
Speaking of Eirith, where was he?
I blinked and lifted my chin off my hand, glancing around for Eirith. I didn't care about him, I only wanted to know if he was getting his ass handed to him somewhere or was getting turned down for dances repeatedly. A good laugh was needed right about now.
"Have you had your fill of being nosy?"
My eyes lazily rolled towards Ronan, knowing his voice all too well by now and how it seemed to scold me at every turn. "Actually, I haven't. It's been more entertaining than this entire evening has."
"You were the one who wanted to come," he stated in an 'I told you so' tone. I didn't need the reminder.
I huffed and pressed back into my chair, leaned towards Ronan. "I was hoping for something interesting, like a good brawl. So far, I've seen a dead person's necklace be given as a gift and that's about it."
I bit my own tongue after I had said that casually and I knew that I had fucked up when Ronan inhaled sharply and shifted around to focus onto me. Even though his hood, I knew his eyes were piercing mine.
"I would be careful saying that," he replied, voice lowered and stern. "That dead person was a beloved queen of Krak and the mother of Magnus. She was murdered in cold blood and does not deserve to have her name summed up to a meaningless person."
