CHAPTER 15: THE EARLY BIRDS AND THE LATE COMERS

Every year since Riley came on board, the MBE annual gala has been labeled as an event not to be missed.

Which, in Riley’s opinion, was a polite way of saying attendance is a must.

He’d learned to watch the arrivals. They told you everything you needed to know about the politics of the night.

Those who came out of duty, like the elves and dwarves, arrived early, mingled politely, and left early. They have made their peace offering through their extravagant light display and elaborate griffin statue. The dwarves even left an unrealistic supply of mead, thanks to Guildmaster Orla’s brewery.

The forerunners came and left soonest. No fuss. No drama. Just how they liked it.

Those who came for other reasons, however, like the merfolk and dragons, usually arrived late. Very late. Often not leaving until the next morning.

Oh, and the humans? It depended on who they sent and what they were aiming for. Then you have the shifters, the fae, and the other beings who were just there to have fun.

But they weren’t really as concerning as the perennially late attendees.

Why? Well. Riley had theories.

It was more a collection of observations Riley had made after years of watching the same crowd. It wasn’t as if there were never any new attendees, but with these beings living for centuries, they must have been tired of seeing the same faces year after year.

So when someone made a point of arriving late and making an entrance, it was never just for show. One couldn’t afford to ignore the implications.

Like, say, the dragons.

For one, the head of MBE was the ever-gracious-ever-bombastic Lord Kael Dravaryn, his boss. So it’s no wonder the dragons felt the need to arrive last, as if to prove the party did not really begin until they walked in.

Not that his boss ever cared about this part. And if Riley was being honest, the dragons arriving late was advantageous for him, who wouldn’t need to fend off that many attacks for so long.

He could almost stomach a few hours of skirmishing against the prospective dragon ladies, all trying their best to bag the shiniest bachelor of the current millennium.

Almost.

But nights like this made him wish Lady Stella would show up earlier.

While many of the merfolk made it a point to arrive just before the prestigious dragons, there was always one exception—Lady Stella.

She would always arrive as late as possible.

And judging by the way Kael’s gaze was already flicking to the doorway with that faint, annoyed glint, Riley knew tonight would be no exception.

Riley braced himself.

Mentally. Physically. Spiritually, if that counted for anything.

Because he knew what was coming.

Lady Stella was never on time. She was never quiet. And she was never easy to deal with.

Even before her grand entrance, he could already hear the faint ripple of water magic building at the far end of the hall. Little sparks of mist danced over the polished floor tiles, and the light seemed to catch a faint blue sheen.

The merfolk delegation parted like waves, already making way for their so-called representative.

Riley let out a long breath and muttered to himself, adjusting his cuffs, "Here we go. Showtime."

Kael, for his part, hadn’t moved a muscle. He stood exactly where he was, a faint frost in his golden eyes already glinting at the doorway. His presence cooled just a degree, and Riley could practically hear the tension stretching in the air.

Lady Stella was coming. And she was coming for Kael, like she always did.

And yet, despite Kael’s frosty reception, Riley couldn’t help but objectively admire the woman’s tenacity.

The first time Riley had seen Lady Stella, he’d nearly dropped his clipboard.

She was unrealistically beautiful.

Her skin shimmered like pearl and moonlight, her hair floated around her shoulders like cascading waves, and her eyes—sea green and speckled with gold—seemed to see right through people.

And she had a smile that could sell ice to a glacier.

Riley remembered thinking, at that moment, Why weren’t his boss and this woman together?

Surely no man—dragon or otherwise could resist a woman like that, right?

She’s basically the poster girl for impossible beauty. And while she doesn’t exactly have a sense of personal space, it probably came with the territory.

But back then, Riley had been new and didn’t know much.

Because the moment she’d swept toward them, grinned at Kael like he was a prize she’d already claimed, Riley learned the truth: It was a miracle she was still alive.

Considering how Kael’s eyes had flashed at her antics, most beings wouldn’t be able to handle it.

And yet here she was. Still alive. Still grinning. Still running the merfolk delegation after centuries.

And still chasing Kael like a predator chasing its favorite prey.

Only this time, the prey was much more lethal than the predator.

Riley supposed that said a lot about her.

Lady Stella didn’t rise to her position and stay there for this long by being pretty alone. No one stayed on top of merfolk politics without being cunning and ruthless enough to swim circles around their enemies.

Kael tolerated her because she was useful. Always had been.

After all, who didn’t need water to survive?

Riley suspected that if she’d wanted to, Lady Stella could have made an excellent spy. She could command water to slip through any door, carry any sound, and bring her back every secret whispered in every corner.

The thought alone had terrified him when he’d first learned about it.

But she seemed too busy enjoying herself to put that talent to serious use.

Or maybe she just hadn’t needed to. Yet.

Still, that thought brought Riley’s mind back to something that had been nagging him ever since Wyrmfall.

Why hadn’t they received any official reports about the missing sirens?

The cages they’d found at the black market had been full of young sirens, drugged, half-starved, and muted.

And yet, nothing.

Radio silence.

Not a single formal complaint from the merfolk.

How was that possible?

Someone like Lady Stella, who quite literally had access to nearly every body of water, should have gotten wind of something. Shouldn’t she?

Even if the elders wanted to save face, surely someone—someone—would have told her what was happening to their own people.

Unless... she already knew.

The thought made Riley’s stomach turn.

He cast a glance at her as she finally glided toward them, her skirts rippling like waves, her smile sharp and sweet at once.

Her eyes locked on Kael instantly.

She didn’t even look at anyone else as she approached, the crowd parting for her as if she were a queen.

Kael’s expression didn’t change. He stood as still and cold as a glacier, golden eyes unblinking as she stopped a breath away from him.

And Riley, watching from the corner of his eye, could only think one thing.

She’s either fearless or insane.

Because no one else would dare look at Kael like that and still be standing.

Her smile widened. "Lord Dravaryn," she purred, voice as soft and warm as the sea breeze. "You didn’t have to wait for me. But then... You always do, don’t you?"

Kael said nothing, though Riley swore he saw his jaw tighten ever so slightly.

Riley, notebook in hand, kept his head down to hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Because say what you would about Lady Stella...

She was nothing if not persistent.

And dangerous.