Prince of Ruin

Chapter One: Coco

"It's just so gauche." The look on my mother's face said it all, a mix of dismay and disgust, to Genevieve Selwyn, there was nothing worse than to be called gauche. To be tacky was worse than being an outright awful person. And honestly, that tracked. I watched as yet another series of fireworks lit up the night sky.

"Horribly so," Baz spoke up, I let my head loll to the side to look at my twin as he agreed with her. He shrugged one shoulder and swirled the dregs of wine at the bottom of his glass.

Genevive huffed and tipped her head back to drain her glass. It wasn't her first of the night- and the half-empty bottle sitting on the table was not our first bottle of the night. She tapped the glass to the bottle and magic lifted the bottle- refilling her glass with more wine than a proper lady would typically allow.

I quirked an eyebrow but kept that thought to myself.

"It's the Notts, what can you expect?" I asked, finishing my own glass, and making a face. Something about the last sip of wine, the last little bit at the bottom of the glass that always tasted off. No matter how good the rest of the glass was- that last little gulp managed to ruin the whole thing.

I put the glass down on the table without refilling it. It was a gorgeous night- it had been muggy and miserable for most of the day but it seemed like even mother nature was working in the favor of the birthday boy.

"And why exactly are the two of you not invited anyway?" Genevieve asked, looking between the two of us suspiciously.

"Because Theodore Nott is a vindictive crybaby."

"Coco." Baz admonished.

"What? I'm right." I shrugged. Genevieve huffed, annoyed that we were left out of any kind of party, even a birthday party for Theodore Nott. Status meant the world to Genevieve and if everyone had been invited, except for us, it looked bad.

How was I supposed to know that insulting Theodore Nott and his gang of merry men for the past eighteen years would result in him ignoring custom and not inviting Baz and me to his tacky birthday party?

Genevieve stayed outside with us for another ten minutes before she let out another annoyed huff-

"I'm going to bed." She declared, standing and grabbing the wine bottle. She whirled- her long robe billowing around her as she headed back into the house- leaving Baz and me alone.

"Don't forget your new batch of sleeping potions is in the kitchen," I called after her. She paused then headed in the opposite direction- probably towards the kitchen.

"You shouldn't have reminded her."

Baz and I had very different ideas of how to deal with our mother. I was a big fan of letting her numb herself to the world, Baz didn't like seeing her relying on aids for things like sleeping when the wine should have done the job.

Baz was always nicer than me.

"We should go to the party." I decided.

"What?"

"The Nott's party. We should apparate over there and see if it's everything people expect."

"I expect nothing out of the Nott party." Baz shook his head. "It's a bad idea."

"Which is why we should do it." I stood and grabbed my glass. "Come on Bastian- we dealt with them for seven years. We deserve to have a little fun at their expense." I reached out and ruffled his dark hair, his hands coming up automatically to slap my hands away.

"Cordelia." He warned. I made a face and turned on my heel.

"Fine, then I will go alone." I threatened, taking the glass into the house. I left it on the table inside- knowing a house elf would ensure it got into the kitchen. A moment later I heard Baz's heavy footsteps behind me.