Aria stared at Rose’s flat stomach. Was she always this candid? “I don’t know why you’re telling me all of this. ”
“Marron told me to help you so that’s what I’m doing. I knew what I was getting into. I knew it would never work. I think you should know too. ”
“Thanks for the warning but I’m leaving. Besides, Perry and I are just friends. Even that’s questionable. ”
“He wanted me to see to you first until he learned you were asleep. He told me you walked a week on those cuts without once moaning about it. I don’t think there’s much question at all. ” Rose shut the case with a loud snap, the hint of a smile on her lips.
“Tread carefully, Aria. And try to stay off your feet. ”
Chapter 24
ARIA
Aria stepped into the hallway, Rose’s words still echoing in her mind. Tapestries hung on smooth turquoise walls, the color picking up the rich threads that wove an ancient battle scene. A lighted alcove to one end housed a life-size marble statue of a man and woman locked in either a fierce struggle or a passionate embrace. It was hard to tell. To the other end of the hall, stairs with a gilt-leafed banister swept downward. Aria smiled. Everything in Delphi came from a different time and place. Marron’s home felt like being in a dozen Realms at once.
Perry’s voice drifted up the stairs. For a moment, she closed her eyes and listened to his deep drawl. Even among Outsiders, he had a distinctive, unhurried way of talking. He spoke of his home, the Tide Valley. Of his worries about Aether storms and raids by other tribes. For someone who hardly said anything, he was a compelling speaker. Concise but sure. After a few minutes, she shook her head at her own shameless eavesdropping.
The stairs took her back down to the room with the couches. Roar sat on one, Perry sprawled across another. Marron perched by Roar, one rounded leg bouncing over the other. She didn’t see Cinder but that didn’t surprise her. Perry stopped speaking and sat up when he saw her. She tried not to think of what that meant, that he didn’t want to continue in her presence.
He wore new clothes like she did. A shirt the color of sand. Leather pants that were closer to black than brown and weren’t patched and re-patched. His hair had been pulled back and it gleamed under the lights. He was drumming the fingers of his good hand against his cast. He was also pointedly not looking her way.
Marron came over and took her hands into his, the action so full of affection Aria couldn’t bring herself to pull away. He wore what Aria could only call a smoking jacket, a ridiculous burgundy velvet affair, trimmed and belted with black satin sashes.
“Ah,” he said, his cheeks plumping with a smile. “You received them. Not a bad fit, I see. I have other clothes being readied for you, my dear. But this will do fine for now. How are you, darling?”
“Good. Thank you for these. And for the rose,” she added, realizing it had come from Marron, along with the clothes.
Marron leaned in, giving her hands a squeeze. “A small gift for a great beauty. ”
Aria laughed nervously. In Reverie, she wasn’t anything unusual. Only her voice set her apart from other people. To be praised for something she’d had no say in seemed odd, but it also felt nice.
“Shall we eat?” Marron asked. “We have much to discuss and might as well fill our stomachs as we do it. I’m sure you’re all quite hungry. ”
They followed him into a dining room as lavishly decorated as the rest of Delphi. The walls were covered in crimson and gold fabric and hung floor to ceiling with oil portraits. Candlelight caught on crystal and silver, filling the room with sparkling light. The opulence sent a pang of sorrow through her. It reminded her of the Opera House.
“I’ve traded over my lifetime for these treasures,” Marron said at her side. “But meals should be revered, don’t you think?”
Roar pulled out a chair for her as Perry headed to the far side of the rectangular table. They’d hardly sat down when people arrived to pour them water and wine. They were well-dressed and fastidiously groomed. Aria was beginning to see what Marron had done in his compound. Work in exchange for safety. But the people who served him didn’t appear distressed. Everyone she had seen within Marron’s walls seemed healthy and content. And loyal, like Rose.
Marron lifted his glass, his soft bejeweled fingers fanning like a peacock’s feathers. Aria locked onto a flash of blue. Marron was wearing the ring with the blue stone that Perry had stashed away. Aria smiled to herself. She should stop making assumptions about roses and rings.
“To the return of old friends and to an unexpected but most welcome new one. ”
Soup was brought out, the smell stirring her appetite to life. The others began to eat, but she set down her spoon. It was dizzying, going from the harsh outside world, from the sprint for their lives, to this sparkling feast. She should have adjusted faster, having fractioned through Realms her entire life. But she savored the moment, despite its strangeness, appreciating all that she saw before her.
They were safe. They were warm. They had food.
She picked up the spoon again, welcoming the weight of it in her hand. When she took her first sip, tastes burst like tiny fireworks over her tongue. It had been so long since she’d eaten anything rich. The soup, a creamy mushroom concoction, was delicious.
She glanced at Perry. He sat at the head of the table, opposite Marron. She’d expected to find him out of place. He belonged in the woods; she knew that with every certainty. But he looked comfortable. Clean-shaven, the angles of his jaw and nose seemed sharper, his green eyes brighter, catching as much candlelight as the chandelier above.
He motioned for one of the servants. “Where did you find morels this time of year?”
“We grow them here,” said the young man.
“They’re very good. ”
Aria’s gaze fell to the soup. He knew there were morels in it. She’d tasted mushroom but he identified them exactly. Smell and taste were related senses. She remembered Lumina telling her that once. They were the last senses to be incorporated into the Realms after sight, sound, and touch. Smell was the hardest sense to replicate virtually.