71. A goblet of grasswine

                                    

                                          
The Barracks' attempt at a ballroom would have been incomplete without music, and so, true to expectation, four fae played violins at the furthest end of the chamber. They stood alone in front of the only visible window, which was a vast creation of metal framework cut through with prisms of glass. Moonlight lanced it through in stray beams, shining pale between the floating white gowns of the solemn players.
                          
The violinists' music warbled thin and cold, though a number of couples had taken to the floor to dance together in slow circles. Their vivid costumes fluttered in stark contrast to the Hounds who walked amongst them, all dressed in robes of black with their lengths of chain. Ada remembered Solen's story of the sons that rich families had sent away to become Hounds, and here she saw the terrible proof. Boys stood speaking with their grown fathers, their voices harshly distorted behind the metal meshes fastened across their mouths. Beside them stood sisters with delicate scarves of lace, whose ends became unravelled when they caught in their brothers' heavy chains.
                          
Ada's hand tightened on Lark's elbow as they walked through the ballroom, unable to keep her eyes from the dark revelry. She let him guide them as her gaze drifted, passing a little girl with rubies embedded in her narrow cheeks, then a man puffing on a pipe with smoke as purple as his tailcoats. Her eyes came to a halt on a raised dais, upon which were three chairs occupied by three men. The first two were Hounds like none Ada had seen before, their faces a mangled split between metal and flesh. Thick chains snaked around their shoulders and crossed over their chests, disappearing beneath their ribs into coarse robes.
                          
In the third chair was Raeph. He wore a shirt of midnight silk, his buttons a scattering of obsidian flakes that he had neglected to fasten midway up. A loose cravat hung past his pale collarbone, startlingly white against his black outfit. He twirled the stem of a goblet between his long fingers, one leg thrown carelessly over the arm of his chair. Ada gasped, heat flushing through her chest as she found that his eyes were searing straight through the crowd of painted fae and into her own. 
                          
Before she could utter a sound, Lark had dragged her deeper into the fae crowd, their tall bodies obscuring the dais from sight. When they halted next to a small silver table scattered with crystal goblets, Ada unclasped her hand from Lark's arm and took an unsteady breath. 
                          
"Looks like you could use a drink," muttered Lark, grabbing the nearest decanter that brimmed with crimson wine. He filled a goblet and handed it to Ada. "Mulberry. It should take the edge off."
                          
Ada took a sip and nearly choked. The wine was so vinegary it felt like fire was scorching down her throat. She teetered, already lightheaded, and thrust the goblet back to Lark.
                          
"Oops," he said, reaching for a decanter of pearly green liquid instead. "Maybe that edge was a little too sharp. Try this."
                          
Ada eyed him grimly, wiping mulberry droplets from her chin.
                          
Almost smiling, Lark held up a palm. "An honest mistake. I forgot how supposedly sensitive human stomachs are. But you'll like this one, it's what parents give to their children when they demand to drink from goblets of their own."
                          
"What is it?" Ada asked suspiciously.
                          
"Grasswine." Lark pressed the goblet into her hand with a dramatic flourish. "Perfect to drink beneath the Harvest Moon."
                          
This time, Ada only let the wine wet her lips. It certainly was weaker than the mulberry wine, though Ada suspected that was half due to the overwhelming sweetness that coated her tongue. After a mouthful, she felt a familiar dizziness, though not quite so terribly as before. She returned to surveying the ballroom, goblet in hand, when Lark stiffened beside her. 
                          
"Will you wait here a moment?" he asked. "If you keep your head down, nobody will have reason to approach you."
                          
"What—" said Ada. "Where are you going?"