23
Once again, I stand on a high platform made of pale rock, staring down into a massive geode crammed with thrax partygoers. The Rixa Herald waits nearby, ready with a silver trumpet and pre-set speech about yours truly.
I scrunch and un-scrunch my fingers, trying to release some anxious energy. It doesn’t work in the slightest. Long story short, there’s no way to avoid high levels of adrenaline and excitement tonight.
This is my Ball of Welcome, Part Deux. Only this time around, the audience won’t get puppeteered by a semi-demonic Adair. So, I’ve got that going for me.
The Herald plays a regal tune, makes my intro, and it’s go-time.
I start the long trek down the crystal staircase to the ballroom floor below. Tonight, I’m wearing the golden over-gown that Octavia made for me. I’m no
