Marie Rutkoski Quote

Where are we going? Arin stared out the carriage window at the trees of the Garden District, their bare branches slim and violet in the dusk.Kestrel fidgeted with her skirts. Arin. You know that we are going to Irex’s party.Yes, he said shortly, but didn’t tear his gaze away from the passing trees. Better he look at them than at her. The velvet dress was a deep red, the skirts deliberately crushed in a pattern highlighted by golden embroidered leaves that twined up toward the bodice, where they interlaced and would catch the light. Conspicuous. The dress made her conspicuous. Kestrel sank into her corner of the carriage, feeling her dagger dig into her side. This evening at Irex’s wouldn’t be easy.Arin seemed to think the same. He held himself so rigidly on the carriage seat across from her that he looked wooden. Tension seeped into the air between them.When torches lit the darkness outside the windows and the driver lined up behind other carriage waiting to access the pathway to Irex’s villa, Kestrel said, Perhaps we should return home.No, said Arin. I want to see the house. He opened the door.They were silent as they walked up the path to the villa. Though not as large as Kestrel’s, it was also a former Herrani home: elegant, prettily designed. Arin fell behind Kestrel, as was expected of slaves, but this made her uneasy. It was unsettling to feel him close and not see his face.They entered the house with the other guests and made their way into the receiving room, which was lined with Valorian weapons.They don’t belong there, she heard Arin say. She turned to see him staring in shock at the walls.Irex is an exceptional fighter, said Kestrel. And not very modest.Arin said nothing, so neither did Kestrel.