Darkly Devoted (Book 1, 2, 3)

OTF Chapter 6 - Wingman Julian

Chapter 6

THAT NIGHT, Vivienne waited for the horse carriage to arrive to take her to her ill-fated dinner with Sero. She was wearing a green chiffon dress that rippled with her every movement. On her hands, she wore ethereal elbow-length gloves decorated with a lattice of pink silk flowers. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was a work of art come to life. Yet, Vivienne didn't feel beautiful. She felt like a painted doll. She had so much power under her fingertips, yet she was helpless to use any of it.

Finally, she grew tired of waiting, and she asked one of the maids to turn on the television. Blake's apartment was decorated to hide any signs of electronics tastefully. But at her request, a wall receded from view to reveal a magnificent floor-to-ceiling television screen. She didn't know what she wanted to watch, but it didn't matter seeing that the news of the upcoming Midnight Masquerade was on every channel.

King Wynn's weathered and weary face appeared. His eyes were sunken and blood-red under his heavy crown. He looked every bit of a man pushing ninety-six years old. There were rumors that with time, he had become increasingly reclusive writing his decrees from a locked room in the palace filled with only his most trusted advisors. About five years ago it was said that he and Maglania grew increasingly antagonistic with each other in the media. To see him on the screen was a rarity. Yet, to him alone was the loyalty of Ignis. Even the elite of Manna City still turned to him in times of trouble. With the drying up of nectar, these were hard times indeed.

The old man licked his chapped lips and read slowly from a decree announcing this year's Midnight Masquerade. He had a fatherly look to him, and he spoke at length about the importance and talents of the Orlins. The announcement was from earlier that day, but the news channels were replaying it endlessly, speculating on how the Midnight Masquerade would be different this year. As, the hours passed, and his face appeared again and again, Vivienne wondered if she were able to meet with him, if he could be reasoned with. If only he knew what was happening to the Orlins, how they were being drained dry and thrown to their deaths, maybe he could do something to stop Maglania and her demons.

Vivienne's reverie was ended when Lichtus appeared and told her Lord Sero was waiting for her downstairs. Vivienne had been dreading the dinner, but at least the sooner it started, the sooner she could leave. As Vivienne descended the grand staircase at the entrance of the hotel, into the plaza out front, she was greeted not just by Sero but also by Julian. The two men were sitting in a limo together, chatting and laughing casually. It seemed Sero was much more fond of Julian than he was of her. Maybe, Julian should be the one to seduce him, Vivienne thought ruefully as she entered the limo.

"Hey," Julian said. "Her Highness told me to show the two of you a good time. Didn't expect to see me here, did you? I am also the Royal Events Coordinator." Julian was by far the best dressed of the three of them. He was wearing a purple waistcoat, complete with a top hat, white gloves, and a skull-capped cane. "Where do you want to go, love? Sero said it's lady's choice tonight. Only thing is the two of us need to back at the palace by ten for a private assembly with King Wynn. We can drop you off back here before that if you want."

Vivienne was momentarily relieved that Sero wasn't expecting to deflower her that night. Yet, at the same time, she knew this could possibly be her chance to interfere with the Midnight Masquerade.

"I love a good party, of course, I'll join the two of you back at the palace."

"That's the spirit, Vivienne!" Julian said, laughing. "Though, we'll see about that. Sero here might wear you out with his charm and social graces."

Vivienne had to stop herself from gagging. Julian met her eyes, and at that moment, the two of them both had to stop themselves from bursting out in laughter. Luckily, Sero had no concept of sarcasm.