House of Sky and Breath Bonus Chapter - Bryce & Hunt

Bryce had barely settled in to work at her desk when her phone rang. She saw who was calling and grimaced.

"Cormac. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I need you to attend a luncheon with me."

"Here in the real world, we say, Let's do lunch."

A pause, and Bryce smiled. The Avallen Prince said tightly, "It's a formal luncheon at Lord Hawthorne's house. I've just been informed that you must attend with me."

Bryce straightened. "Informed by whom?"

"My father."

It was her turn to pause. "What did my father have to say about it?"

"Nothing. He's not invited." A small mercy. "The Hawthornes and the Donnalls go back generations. This is between our families only. And since you are supposedly about to become part of mine..." She could hear the sneer in his voice. "You are expected to be there."

She debated objecting, but... she surveyed her desk, her tiny office. So at odds with the stirring forces around them. With her entire life. She'd take any distraction that was offered, even if it meant mingling with the Fae. "Do I need to look fancy?"

◯ ◯ ◯

Thirty minutes later, Bryce found herself beside Cormac as they entered the opulent villa in the heart of FiRo. A mere two blocks from her father's house, and nearly identical: pale marble, olive and orange trees, beds of lavender swaying beneath them, aquamarine fountains sparkling in the sunlight... everything screamed money.

It was hard to believe Flynn had grown up here. A stiff-backed butler ushered them through the shining halls, as immaculate and impersonal as a museum. No TVs hung on the walls, no sound systems, nothing beyond the occasional firstlight to indicate that this place existed in the current century.

But Cormac's brows were high. Impressed.

As the butler strode ahead, Bryce muttered to the prince, "I should have known this would be up your alley. Anti-tech living at its finest." She gestured to a closed wooden door as they passed. "Dungeon's down there. If you go now, you can probably beat the crowd for the two o'clock peasant flogging."

Cormac gave her a sidelong, withering look and said with equal quiet, "I suggest you curb that irreverent humor before we enter the dining room. You are here as a representative of your bloodline--and our people."

Bryce lifted her eyes to the ornately carved cornices, silently beseeching Cthona for strength.

Soft voices flitted down the hallway before the butler passed through the open doors of the dining room.

Bryce tensed for a heartbeat at the voices. Not just Fae awaited her in that room. They were Fae nobility.

She glanced down at her lacy white dress and golden sandals. Clean. No wrinkles or dirt. She'd changed, grateful she'd left the outfit in her office closet in case of an important meeting.

"You look fine," Cormac muttered without shifting his gaze to her.

"I don't give a shit," she hissed back. But... these were her father's people. Who had never known she was her father's daughter before last spring, but... she'd seen their stares in the streets since then. Would never forget that they locked down their villas--this villa--when the demons attacked, shutting out anyone fleeing in the streets. How many had died on the sidewalk just beyond these gates, begging for mercy/
As the butler announced their arrival to the crowd in the dining room, listing all ten of Cormac's royal names and titles, Bryce extracted her phone from her purse and pulled up Hunt's contact info.