I’m going to try to stick to Merchant of Nevra Coil teasers until the book comes out. Again, I’m hoping for August, but we’ll see what happens. As usual, I’ll ramble here for a bit and put a picture before a break. Trying not to have any spoilers, but there may be something I missed:
“What in all of Windemere is going on here?” Kira groggily asks when she wakes up to a bizarre scene.
The heiress’s ebony hair has been styled into rainbow-colored spikes that go in random directions and her nightgown has been shredded up to her waist. The young woman’s manicured nails have been coated in every color of polish that she owns and she finds a few of the leaking bottles on the floor by her bed. Glancing at a warped mirror, Kira finds that her teeth have been painted too and there is a swear word written on her forehead. Books and clothes have been strewn about the modestly furnished room, which is brightened by morning light from the open windows. Wrapping a warm sheet around her waist, she goes to close the shades only to find that they have been frozen to the wall and reek of sweet wine. She waves to her neighbors who are having a decadent breakfast on one of their high balconies, the two manors sharing a marble wall. The elderly pair cautiously wave back, but the woman gives Kira an openly judgmental look before turning her chair around and enjoying her tea.
“Like she didn’t cause trouble when she was my age. Not that I know what happened here. Who was in my room last night?” the heiress asks while she carefully sticks her head into the hallway. She can see one of her maids dusting a statue down the hall, the brown-haired elf freezing at the sound of the heiress. “Sorry if I sound angry. I’m having trouble remembering what happened last night and my room is a mess.”
“We heard a commotion, Lady Grasdon,” the servant replies. Tucking the feather duster into her apron, the elf steps toward Kira, but stops when the heiress gestures for her to stop. “When we knocked, you told us that you were practicing with your kusari-gama. Then you requested three bottles of wine and locked us out for the night.”
“That’s right. I guess I overdid drowning my sorrows,” Kira says, not remembering any of what she has been told. “Thank you. I’ll be down for breakfast in an hour or two. Might need a bath first. I’m very . . . sweaty.”
“What happened to your hair, milady?”
Reaching up to touch the solid spikes, the embarrassed woman forces the biggest smile she can muster. “I had an accident with the new gels. One clumsy swing with the sickle and you’re covered in a few diamond spheres worth of beauty supplies. I’ll clean it up . . . somehow. I might need some of the stronger shampoos and soaps with that bath. Enjoy the rest of your morning, Dana.”
Kira slams the door and locks it before searching the messy room for clues to what happened. She finds the empty bottles of wine under her bed along with the decimated remains of her cosmetics. A bump from the far side of the room brings her attention to the shelves above her chestnut desk.