I glanced down at my jeans and warm jumper, wishing I’d had time to change into something more appropriate. I might not have a gown to match Tipsania’s but I looked like I’d not made any effort at all. Not everyone was wearing evening wear, of course; I spotted all-in-one jumpsuits made of Clan tartans, traditional kilts and even a top hat and tails.

I couldn’t stop my eyes drifting towards Byron, who was lingering at the front of the crowd with Tipsania. Thanks to her massive skirts, there was quite a gap around them. He looked damn good in his kilt.

He didn’t even glance in my direction. I wondered whether he was too embarrassed to claim a friendship – of sorts – with a dirty rotten thief like me. The thought stung more than I would have liked.

Fortunately, Lexie had a scarf in the new Adair tartan which she pulled off her shoulders and looped round my neck. It was better than nothing. I untied my hair, shaking it out and letting it fall down my back. Yes, it was white, just like my father’s had been; I wasn’t going to hide my heritage.

‘That’s it,’ Taylor nodded. ‘Don’t let these bastards make you feel anything less than you are.’

‘Was I being that obvious?’

He squeezed my arm. ‘I know you pretty well.’

I tried to smile as an elderly Sidhe official in Carnegie colours cleared his throat and began to speak. ‘Competitors will enter with their individual Clans, parade past the grandstand and halt in front of the royal box where their participation will be verified. Remember, it takes three Clans to validate entry.’

I felt sure he was saying that for my benefit. It didn’t help that several of the other competitors turned in my direction, mocking amusement glinting in their eyes.

‘Clans will enter not in alphabetical order, as was previously stated, but in order of importance.’

I shared a look of disgust with Taylor. Since I’d taken on the Adair name, I’d moved to the top of the pack as far as ABC was concerned but this wasn’t Sesame Street. I had no doubt that despite the tradition attached to the Adairs, and the fact that my blood had been keyed into the Foinse as the sole member of one of the older, supposedly important Clans, I’d be in last place. I shrugged. If nothing else, I’d give this lot something to remember.

Brochan eyed me. ‘You’re planning something,’ he accused.

My mouth twitched. ‘When they throw me out for not being good enough or strong enough or whatever enough, I want to make sure they all realise what a mistake they’re making.’

‘Tegs…’

I grinned, although there wasn’t much humour in it. ‘My new trick is telekinesis. Let them see what I can do when I choose to use it.’

‘Is that a good idea?’

‘The witch in Sleeping Beauty is always painted as the villain,’ I murmured. ‘But she was left out in the cold. Depending on which version you read, her invitation was either forgotten or she was deliberately left off the list. She took her revenge ‒ and then some. I’m not going to curse any Sidhe damsels but I’m not going to let them humiliate me without saying something about it.’