Windswept (The Airborne Saga) (20 page)

“I was simply concerned that I may have come off harshly before. I am still your biggest advocate here
,” Stern explained just as the song ended.

“Thank you. Again.” She backed up and glanced around the room for Mason. He’d been right about the timing. The crowd swayed more, spoke louder, and the hand motions increased drastically.

“He’s probably just been caught up with royal affairs. Would you like to join us outside? It’s emptier. Less stuffy.”

             
Finding no way to say no, Avery followed him out. He hadn’t lied. On the outside was balcony with an overhang that faced the ocean. Though not as massive as the one by the council’s headquarters, it was comfortably empty. The Guard was posted almost unnoticeably just off the balcony. Only five other people stood out on the patio, old men like Stern, and they all raised their glasses to cheer at his appearance.

             
“Good lads! Good lads!” Stern cheered back. “I’d like to introduce you to the lady of the hour. This is Avery.”

             
He didn’t give context, but apparently clearly didn’t need to because all of the men watched her as though they already knew. How much they knew though, Avery wasn’t certain. Nervously folding her arms, she drew the shawl over the Willow tattoo as much as she could. The surface makeup she’d applied would wear off eventually.

             
“This is Alberto, my brother. Alan, his son. Dustin and Dean from our two other, and very precious, royal families.” Stern introduced by name. Avery tried to commit it to memory, but found herself stuck on the idea of just how many royal bloodlines there were. As Stern began lightly chatting, it became clear these men were council members also. Maybe even the ones who had sentenced her to death at last year.

             
“Avery! How do you like the island so far? Not getting cabin fever yet I hope!” Alan addressed her with a question she could answer.

             
“No, not yet.”

             
“If you ever do, I have quite the wonderful vacation island you should visit. I bet it’d be a nice break to get away from Prince Mason and his chaos!” The man chuckled.

             
“Your island? Hardly.” Stern countered.

             
“Not all of us can own that Seamist Island of yours. Besides, I’m concerned about the girl. Even if you don’t wish to leave the island, I own quite a few wonderful resorts right up on the ocean side. Take a day, relax, clear your head.”

             
“Are you really trying to get me to relax or are you just trying to find a day for Mason to focus on his work?” Avery finally landed on a fairly witty comment. It made the old harpies laugh.

             
“Maybe both my dear. Maybe both.” Alan commented.

             
They went on chatting about islands. Avery took a step back, no longer willing to be on her toes and in the center of such a conversation. She backed up and spared a glance inside. A few harpies were still staring—goggling her way with smiles and blushing faces. They at least stayed contained. She finally spotted Mason who stood just off from the inside doors. He was engaged in conversations with another harpie, but judging his body movements, she could intervene without being rude. She grasped the golden door handle when Dean slid up to her side.

             
“I’m glad I finally got to meet you. It was nice to put a face to the legend,” he said smoothly.

             
“I’m no legend…” She waited a moment. This council had been so unsure of her. Maybe talking to them, as briefly as it was, had helped her reputation. “I’m glad I was able to speak with you. I hope you don’t believe I’m a legend. I hope you don’t find the rumors to be true.”

             
Dean shook his head, his smile disturbingly bright.

             
“No, my dear. We are not afraid of you anymore. We’re always cautious. But we are not afraid.”

Sixteen

              The sun beamed through the curtains in her window long before she rolled out of bed and only then because the bed had grown too hot to ignore. Avery winced when her aching feet touched the ground—an anomaly that only came from five inch heels—and led her to the shower. Evelyn hadn’t showed up with any early morning wake up calls again. But after last night, Avery wasn’t even sure she would have awoken anyways.

             
Her stomach churned with a deafening groan by the time she opened the door.

             
“Good morning.” Leon took a step back across the hallway. He didn’t wear a smile, like always, but something else shadowed his face. She wondered if he was finally getting sick of being her body-guard. It couldn’t have been pleasant considering he was in an elite force assigned to protect the royals. Avery tried to give him the brightest smile she could.

             
“Good morning! Would you like to get breakfast with me?” It wasn’t exactly an invitation. She’d already begin trekking down the hall and letting him trail after.

             
“How did last night go?” Leon asked by the time they reached the kitchen. He stayed one foot back, making the conversation awkward. Something told Avery that he wasn’t exactly going to sit at the table with her either.

             
She pushed the door open and held it. Leon had helped her discover this fully-stocked kitchen almost a week ago, and though she hadn’t completely settled in, she had become used to it. Unlike the fully serviced diners and restaurants that made up the rest of the harpie island, this kitchen was just that—a kitchen for all the people who worked or lived here. On top of three fridges stocked with food for the taking, someone always put out fresh fruit and oatmeal in the morning. The scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloped the area and made her stomach churn again. Once she cleared the entrance, Avery found herself hovering. The usually empty place had all ten of its tables filled.  Well over twenty sets of eyes shot up when she entered.

             
“People are here for the commencement ball and speech,” Leon reminded her but she was lucky she even heard him. The room had burst into whispers immediately. She couldn’t pinpoint exact words but didn’t try to. Avery graduated high school and yet still knew what it was like to be the center of conversation.

             
Face flushing and abruptly uncomfortable, she turned her attention to the food bar. Leon stayed on her tail.

             
“How did last night go?” he parroted his earlier, unanswered question, with some persistence.

             
“It was fine. No one really talked to me and those who did seemed cool.” She plopped a bagel on her plate, but only found jelly and no cream cheese.

Behind her, the voice
s died down a few notches in volume. Avery tried to calm her heart. She’d been through this same thing last night. Everyone just wanted to see her. Curious, talk of the town—all things Evelyn had said. But she couldn’t help regretting her informal attire and the sleep-ridden, glazed eyes.

             
“If you think it went well, then it probably went well. It’s better than feeling as if it went poorly.”

             
“I never knew you to be the pep talk type,” Avery commented with a grin. She snatched a bottle of orange juice and whirled to find them a table. Before she got the chance to consider having to eat in her room, or even doing an awkward hover in the corner, the table closest stood up. The couple brushed by her with downward stares and expressionless faces. Avery could hear the woman snort just as they cleared the doorway.

             
Letting out another practiced breath, Avery dropped down into the table they had abandoned. Along with crumbs and an empty plate, they had abandoned their newspaper too. Fingers eager to move and mind subtly curious, Avery slid it over the table towards her.

             
“You should remember how you thought it went. Don’t let others interpret it for you. Many who talk were not there,” Leon had continued as if he hadn’t missed a beat.             

             
“What do you mean? Okay, seriously. What’s going on with the wise words?”

             
He said nothing and his chin titled downward. Like she’d assumed, he wouldn’t sit but hovered over her shoulder. Avery’s attention suddenly shifted down to the newspaper in her lap. The headline was printed in massive black and white letters.

             
“You’re kidding me.”

             
Blood going cold, she knew that there was no joke about it. She read the outline aloud.

             
“Drunk and outrageous human? Humiliates Prince?”

             
Before Leon could respond, her head shot up. The other harpies in the room were still staring, but this time more blatantly than before. And they whispered to each other—vicious hissing that by the mere sound alone couldn’t have been pleasant. Avery froze. Her mouth gaped open and shut a few times, but she found herself unable to think of a single thing to say.

             
Leon’s hand came down on her shoulder so hard that she flinched.

             
“I don’t think you’ve been formally introduced. This is court life.” He looked almost apologetic.

             
Her eyes burned. She didn’t swat at her face, refusing to show the possibility of tears. The news had hit her surprisingly hard, but she knew why. This was what Mason was worried about. This was what was going to happen all along. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, how nice she was, or how well she dressed up. But then the sentiment that she could do nothing about it didn’t make her feel better either.

             
“What happens? What do I do?”

             
“Honestly, Ms. Avery. People will say what they wish. You’re here for our Majesty, not for his press.”

             
“Cute.” The bitterness slid into her voice hard. “I’m glad that I’m just a terrible influence that is stumbling all over.” She slapped the paper down and met the eyes of the harpies who still stared. They didn’t back down, called out on it, but gave her terrible scowls to match. That only made it worse.

             
“Perhaps you should retire to your room. You’ll have some time to rest before you must meet with Mason.”

             
“Mason?” She perked up and turned toward the only harpie in the room who wasn’t sending out death glares. “What does he want? I’ll go see him now.”