Lorei Lascari crossed her spacious living room, leaving a trace of floral perfume behind and sending charming smiles to her guests. Her curvy figure in a long yellow dress floated gracefully around overpriced Art-Deco furniture, swaying from one guest to another. Not a single twitch of an eyebrow, not a single frown escaped her attentive gaze.
Lorei grabbed a glass of white wine and stopped in front of a long oval window. With a deliberate gesture, she lifted her drink and shot a delightful smile to the two men reclining on a glass table in the center of the room. She overheard them discussing Council rumors, and gossip that had been transmitted via light projectors. Neither of them mentioned anything Lorei had not already known. Her gaze wandered idly from one group of guests to another, until it came across a thin man with a long face, who sneaked past the stairs unnoticed by others. Lorei leapt forward and reached him in three quick steps.
"Aladár?" Her clear voice startled him. Not without satisfaction, she watched his annoyance melt into confusion. Swiftly she grabbed Aladár's arm, pretending to lean on it, and left the room with a splendid smile plastered on her face. As soon as they cleared the house, Lorei's expression shifted from serene pleasantry to cold discontent.
"Your sour face makes it difficult for me to recruit allies," she said, her lips twitching.
Aládar swallowed a knot in his throat and shook his head.
"People are getting killed. Something is wrong with the Veil. If the Council finds out, the blame will be ours. Organizing parties and entertaining socialites endangers us." He grimaced and proceeded into the garden. Lorei followed him, tossing her thick red-brown mane away from her neck.
"You don't understand politics, Aladár. You never have." She stopped in front of a flower bed covered with golden leaves. Aladár stared at the ground.
"I do not blame you for liking power, Lorei. Many share your aspirations. But I do not wish to get involved in your affairs. I will not fight your war against gravity-switchers. I will not push you to the Council and lift your travel ban."
"You won't," she said with barely concealed irritation. "But you care about our daughter, don't you? Ariadna deserves more than a misfit's life. She can have the world."
"So that you can have it," Aladár spat out. Lorei shrugged, assuming an air of nonchalance.
"Why not me? There are worse options."
Aladár rubbed his forehead and looked away. His haggard face turned to the setting sun, looking frayed to the point of deterioration. Beneath his eyes dark smudges showed, and the hollows of his cheekbones cut deeper than usual. A decade ago, Lorei might have felt sympathy for him. Now she barely noticed the effects of his time-mastering enhancement. She only wondered what sort of vision had caused the sudden turmoil in him.
Taking a deep breath, Lorei prepared to leave when a familiar trace of energy brushed her senses. "Hajnal? What brings you here?" she asked.
A tall slender woman with furious hazel eyes glaring behind round glasses materialized, seemingly out of nowhere. Hajnal resembled her twin-brother too much for Lorei's taste. Both had the same disheveled chestnut hair, eyes filled with mild golden glow and pointed chins. In a curious twist of fate, the similarities did not extend beyond their appearance.
Hajnal lashed out to punch her, but Lorei jumped aside in time for Aladár to grab his sister's hand. Hajnal hissed like an old-fashioned whistling kettle.
"If you ever endanger my cousins again, I swear I will strangle you!"
Lorei rolled her eyes. She had neither wish, nor patience to deal with the siblings.
YOU ARE READING
Byzantine Purple
Fantasy"History is a survivor's tale. It knows no villains. Only failures." A decade ago, Leudora had her major enemies eliminated - the scientist known as the Dalmatian Serpent, and his followers, who sought her people's blood. A ruthless guardian of her...
