“What do you mean, humph?”

“I mean, if you want to keep my envy demon away, we should stop this conversation right now.” She pauses, and then rubs her eyes with her knuckles.

I wince, dreading what I’ll see when she pulls her hands away. I can’t handle a major envy meltdown right now. I move a bit closer to Cissy. “Are you okay?”

My best friend lowers her hands. Her eyes are their regular tawny brown, thank badness. “Let’s change the subject.” She gestures to my gown. “Can you move around in that thing?”

I place my hand on my heart, raising my other palm to shoulder level. “I hereby solemnly swear to listen to Cissy’s fashion advice from now on. This makes two monster dresses I could have avoided if I had taken help from you.” I look down at the muddy hem of my gown. At least the weight of the dirt is holding down some of the puffiness.

“Next time we have to go fancy for something, we’ll get ready together.” She winks. “We can still do some damage control today, though. I say we sit in the pavilion.” She eyes my gown again. “Back row.”

“Excellent idea. Lead on.”

We hike through the mud to the nearest pavilion. I pause by the stairs to the seats, seeing nothing available in the back row. My heart sinks. There is, in fact, only one open chair in the entire pavilion, and it’s next to the Great Ladies. Yuck.

I turn on my heel. “Maybe we should check out the pavilion on the other side.”

A whiny voice calls out. “Miss Lewis, come sit by us!” I look up to see the Scala Heir wearing white robes and waving in my direction. I squelch the urge to chuck my shoe at her head.

Seating etiquette at a thrax tournament is diplomatic stuff. Girly-girl stuff. Cissy stuff. I lean over and whisper in her ear. “Help?”

Cissy nods, speaking in a low voice that only I can hear. “I got this.” Turning to the Great Ladies, Cissy curtsies low. “We thank you for the kind offer, but Myla and I need to sit together. It’s a quasi tradition.” She whispers in my ear. “That should shut them up. Thrax have all sorts of rules about following tradition, theirs and those of other realms.”

Adair rises to her feet. “To our people, no tradition comes before the desire of the Scala Heir. And I very much desire to speak with Miss Lewis.” She snaps her fingers. Three blonde girls in yellow gowns appear by our side. “These are ladies of my House. They’ll accompany you to an excellent seat at the opposite pavilion. Miss Lewis stays here.”

My upper lip curls with disgust. I speak to Cissy out of one side of my mouth. “Options?”