Legions of Bone: Dragon Rider Book 3

Chapter 43:Party Time

^^^ this is so Topher with his basement of corpses

Holland

Holland hated the parties politicians threw. He saw the value in them. They were the few times everyone who was anyone would be in one place. It meant creating alliances, spreading influence, and learning about the people around you and their intentions.

They were also the most dangerous. To have everyone together created chaos, made it harder to keep an eye on one person. It made for an easy bloodbath and if this war had been with Novak instead of a god, Holland would have advised Cedric against it.

But Khalier was safe, Etin across the continent.

And now, all Holland had to deal with was listening to the lies everyone around him were telling. He could feel bullshit like slushy snow sliding down his back. Coming in waves as people lied and lied and lied.

But there was a perk to these parties.

Riveta smiled at people, chatting with a few of them, her arm linked through his. She wore a maroon-colored dress, the hems brushing the floor, the long sleeves made of soft lace. Her raven hair was curled into loose waves, hanging beneath her shoulder blades. She didn't do much for makeup, just mascara and tiny flick of eyeliner and tinted lips.

When Holland heard he'd be attending the fundraiser, he'd known exactly who to bring. Riveta spent more time at work since Norah left and ate through all the food they had in the fridge. Not only dealing with injured refugees but because the house reminded her of Norah. And Holland listened when she needed it, tried to be there as much as he could but their work schedules fluctuated too much to really see each other. But when she stopped reading, Holland knew it was getting bad. He hoped this party would bring her some kind of joy.

"How did Bram drag you into this," Mor drawled, sarcasm drenching her voice.

Holland peered over his shoulder as Riveta slipped her arm out of his and hugged his sister.

Mor kissed her cheek, grinning ear to ear. "He didn't use his combat spear, did he?"

Holland grumbled under his breath, turning to search for familiar faces in the crowd. Servers weaved between the groups of people balancing trays of food and different drinks. He saw Ahren and Easton, talking to the commoner leaders with pleasant faces. Renora and Emre strode in and out of groups like dancers, their outfits sleek and sharp as the rest of them. People flocked them, following them through the crowd like baby ducks following their mother.

Holland's focus sharpened on the mention of his name.

"I think he looks handsome in a tux," Riveta said.

He looked back at his sister with a sardonic smile. Mor was still looking at Riveta, her lips pulled back with disdain. "Are you feeling well?" she reached for Riveta's forehead with her hand.

Riveta laughed.

Mor dropped her hand, smiling too. They linked arms, Mor shooting him a sarcastic look when Riveta wasn't looking. "What's the point of this party anyway? I understand," she amended. "It's a fundraiser and Cedric needs more support and I'll do everything I can do to help that, but I want to be at home."

Riveta smiled, her voice open and kind. "War's expensive."

Mor sighed, bobbing her head. "That it is."

Holland added, "I'm sick of listening to them lie. It's making me shiver."

"Oh, I know!" Mor shuddered, lips twisting. "It's so frustrating."

"Excuse me, sir."

They turned. A young server in a tux smiled politely, eyes flicking to each of them before landing firmly on Holland. He said, "Cedric's called an emergency meeting in the council chambers."

Relief and dread doused him. He glanced up from the boy, seeing other servers whispering to the other councilmen, some from his faction, and other ones.

"Thank you," he said, watching the boy bow his head and leave.

Holland turned, leaning down to kiss Riveta's cheek. "I'll find you when I'm out."

"Gods, I wish that were me," Mor muttered, envious of Holland's brief reprieve from the party.

He tossed Mor a tight smile and left for the council chambers.

Through the Main Halls, Holland found his mother walking towards the chambers in a deep blue dress with long sleeves. "Mom," he said. Both a greeting and question.

She shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe Farron's found something." She gazed at the other councilmen, the leaders from other factions, and their generals. "Apparently it's something big if he's calling in the other faction leaders."

They met at the Chamber doors when Ahren looked around, eyes landing on something, and frowned. "What is it?"

Holland turned, finding Cedric marching right behind them. He glanced at all of them, brows knitted in confusion. "What's wrong? Why'd you call a meeting?"

Ahren glanced between him and Farron. "You called the meeting."

Grenn, one of the commoner leaders was busy throwing open the massive doors when he froze. "By the gods," he breathed.

Ahren and Easton pushed through the crowd, their eyes sharp and searching for the threat. Their eyes went wide, hands falling slack at their sides.

Holland and Evra shared a confused look before he weaved through the people with Cedric and Farron. He stopped dead, his heart-stopping before starting back up again in a rapid beat.

At the far side of the room, Vaella stood at the end of the table, spear in hand. But Holland stared at Norah sitting at the head of the table, smirking at them.