Chapter Eighteen: Solstice | Part 3
Rhea’s animosity had mostly waned by lunch, save for the occasional jab. By dinner, she’d moved on to poking at Thirtyx for moping about Seerla’s imminent departure, despite the fact that he was about to have the best Solstice of his life. Sure enough, the appearance of Seerla’s bags sparked pangs of sadness to accompany his romantic hunger. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with that for a week.
They headed for the gates together, Benn levitating Seerla’s bags with princely chivalry. The trail was mostly deserted. Only a handful of families had waited until the evening to collect their students, meaning the dozen or so carriages parked along the road were visible from the end of the path.
Two figures leaned against one about halfway down, eyeing the proceedings with disinterest. The orange-scaled Dragonfolk tucked his hands into the pockets of his pressed pants. His blue eyes peered boredly through spectacles, and his graying hair caught on the breeze.
He dwarfed his wife by head and shoulders. Beside him, she picked at the ends of her fully gray braid, and Thirtyx understood where Seerla had picked up the habit.
Her purple eyes were the first to spot them, and she nudged her husband with her elbow.
“Well, I guess this is it,” Seerla sighed. “I can get my stuff from here, Benn.”
“But it’s really no trouble. I could—”
“I don’t want my parents thinking I’m inept.” Seerla leveled a pointed look at Benn. “I have a feeling you can relate.”
As Benn’s face shifted into a sheepish expression, the sparks disappeared from his eyes, and the bags sank to the ground.
Seerla hugged them all—perhaps Thirtyx for slightly longer—before heaving her luggage to the carriage. She embraced her parents. Her dad tossed her bags into the cargo hold while her mom fussed with Seerla’s outfit.
When they were ready to set off, Seerla turned back to wave at her friends. She couldn’t see her parents scowling behind her.
A knot formed in Thirtyx’s stomach. That didn’t bode well for his burgeoning feelings for her.
He didn’t realize how long he’d watched the carriage’s retreat until Benn grabbed his arm and tugged him back toward the trail. “Alright. You’re being weird now. Let’s go.”
At least Rhea had the decency to wait until they were out of earshot before she patted him on the shoulder. “There, there, loverboy. She’ll be back in a week. Then, you two can go back to making gooey faces at each other and pretending no one can tell.”
Thirtyx rolled his eyes. “Well, if she can tell, why hasn’t she made a move? Y’know, other than the crippling unpopularity and constant threats of violence that come with being near me.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I was planning a Solstice fling of my own before Grimm stranded us here.” Rhea breathed a wistful sigh. “You wouldn’t know him, Thirtyx, but he’s this really gorgeous Devil, the son of one of Grimm’s advisors, and we see him around sometimes during school breaks.”
Benn snorted. “Are you talking about Arcandrus? I uh… I don’t think you’re really his type.”
“And what makes you so sure?”
The redness on Benn’s face and the delightful flavor of his energy preempted the reveal. “Because I’ve had a Solstice fling with him. And a summer one—wait, make that two summer ones.”
The confession halted Rhea. Her expression fluctuated between confusion, horror, and guarded pride. “Multiple trysts?” she croaked, before her shifting emotions settled into a sly smirk. “Who knew Commander Grimmary was in such demand?”
“I’m not in demand. He’s happily betrothed to a councilor’s son now. Was then, but significantly less happy about it… and what better way to rebel than by making out with the prince?” Benn ran a hand through his hair, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “It’s probably best I warned you. It’s fun to watch you make a fool of yourself, but this might have been a little too much.”
“Come on, then.” Thirtyx flashed a wry grin as he continued down the trail. “With no classes, we’ve got nothing better to do than wallow in our tragic singleness. And hey, if we figure out how to sneak cake from the kitchens to drown our sorrows, I might even eat a piece.”
Calley Jones 