Thank you @NW39, @strixamans, @arafel0194 and @shadoretheexporer for your mentions!!

I don’t even know who else to tag in this from all the people who’ve mentioned me! Thank you!

I’m posting probably the least angsty snippet of my upcoming chapter 29 of Naturae Ferox.

We’re gatecrashing a ball babyyyy!

“Invitation?”

Wyll, with his cloak flaring behind him like a midnight breeze, stepped forward. His mask glittered with a tapestry of amber jewels, and his posture radiated smug confidence. He produced a rolled parchment and unfurled it with a flick of his wrist - utterly blank.

Fen winced.

The guards frowned. “Are you ‘aving us on, mate?”

But before either could object, Wyll stooped with a courtly bow. His voice slipped into something silken, warm as spiced wine, laced with magic. Fen felt the weave of enchantment hum low in the air.

“Gentleman,” he said with a grin, “Please - surely you recognise nobility when you see it.”

Wyll lifted the paper in front of them, and let the magic slip from his tongue like honey. The enchantment coiling invisibly into the guards’ minds as they stared at the blank page. Their eyes glazed, then lit with sudden recognition.

“You are in the presence of Lord Galen of Silvertome, and Lady Fenelra of the Autumn Court - nobility of no small renown, despite their charming penchant for discretion.”

He gestured grandly to Gale, whose mask gleamed like a silver crescent and to Fen who shrunk beneath the weight of the fantasy title.

“Their court travels with them, naturally,” Wyll went on, voice dipped in honeyed grace. “Their retainer of war, the Blazing General of Broken Chains herself.” Karlach gave a low theatrical bow, flames briefly flickering over her shoulders in delight.

“Their strategist, of most foreign and… focused disposition.” he passed with a sidelong glance to Lae’Zel, who stood rigid as ever, arms crossed, her scale-detailed mask glinting.

“And of course,” he said, drawing it out as he turned towards the back of the group, “The Lady of Sorrows and Starless Waters. Rumoured by some to be the last scion of Selune’s twilight.”

Shadowheart glared at him, with visible malice behind her opalescent mask.

“She rarely deigns to speak,” he added, “but her silence is considered an omen of great favour.”

The guards, utterly enraptured, nodded and stepped aside.

“Right, o’ course - o’ course you’re expected. Apologies, m'lord. Right through, please” one said, holding open the thick velvet drapes as he did.

Warmth flooded out from within like a breath from a beast - thick and perfumed. Music spilled after it, too fast, too sharp, gilded with strings and echoing laughter.

Fen let out a breath she hasn’t known she was holding.

As they crossed the threshold, the floor beneath them shifted from cold stone to marble veined with gold and crimson.

Shadowheart brushed past Wyll with a shove. “If anyone calls me a scion tonight, I will shove this mask somewhere inventive, Wyll.”

Wyll beamed in reply, “I got us in didn’t I?”

“You were embellishing.”

“I was adding gravitas.”

Absolutely no pressure tags for: @alwaysmauria, @roguishcat

And please please please go read all their amazing fics!