Lilia danced through the hallways, zigzagging from noble to noble with trays of wine and sugared fruit, her ears pricked to every bit of gossip as she flitted past. From her vantage, she saw far more than most: Ariel’s dazzling dance with Ryn, the moment the princess was whisked away by her father, and Ryn—poor, doomed Ryn—being surrounded by what looked like a hundred eager young nobles.

  Though no one else seemed to notice, Lilia could practically see his soul crumbling behind his polite mask. Every bow, every turn, every faintly blushing lady seemed to bleach more color from his face. She had to bite her lip to keep from bursting out laughing, watching him grow paler and paler as he endured each partner one by one.

  At last, she spotted him break free, slipping toward the edge of the grand hall like a hunted animal escaping. His relief was short-lived as for the moment he thought himself safe, he found himself face-to-face with the eldest Varghelm prince.

  Lilia sucked in a sharp breath, her heart thudding, this could go very wrong. But to her shock, the pale-haired prince walked away from not scowling, but smiling. Smiling.

  That surprised her. Enough to make her forget herself.

  What in the gods’ names had they talked about?

  She shook her head and returned to her task, weaving through the crowd with her tray and listening to the whispers that floated after her. Varghelm and Solvaran nobles alike were abuzz, some wondering if anyone had seen the “pretty dark-haired noble,” others gushing about the princess’s dance, still more sighing over how radiant Solvara’s heir looked beneath the chandeliers.

  Balancing glasses in her hands, Lilia turned her head, her gaze drawn toward Ariel. The princess was locked in an endless cycle: speaking with a high-ranking Varghelm lord, then whisked into a dance, then drawn into another conversation, only to be pulled back onto the floor yet again.

  Her face never faltered, the same poised smile fixed in place, but to Lilia’s eyes the exhaustion was plain. Ariel wasn’t just Solvara’s princess tonight, she was her father’s sharpest tool, the bright and flawless bridge meant to span the distance between the two nations.

  Although it made Lilia worry, there was little she could do at this point…

  A light tap landed on her shoulder, making her flinch. She turned, half-expecting an older maid ready to scold her for dawdling. Instead, she found herself staring up at Ryn.

  Dark-haired, sharp-eyed, familiar, yet not. Tonight he looked so different that calling him familiar didn’t feel quite right at all.

  She brought her hand to her lips, letting out a small, almost inaudible laugh.

  Ryn tilted his head, frowning slightly.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Her eyes sparkled “You… You look so different, it’s almost…unnerving.”

  Ryn hid his face for a moment, muttering something under his breath too quiet to catch. When he finally turned back to Lilia, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

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  “You were looking at Ariel, right?”

  Lilia nodded, her earlier amusement fading into a worried expression.

  “She looks exhausted,” she murmured, glancing back toward the princess.

  Ryn followed her gaze, his jaw tightening slightly.

  “Should we do something?” Ryn asked, his eyes narrowing

  “What can we do?” She asked softly, biting her lip.

  Her answer didn’t come right away. Both of them knew the truth, Ariel was the princess, bound by duty, surrounded by watchful eyes. Yet the longer Lilia looked, the harder it was to stay still. Ariel’s smile hadn’t reached her eyes in some time.

  At this point the formalities had ended, the ball was winding down into softer music and scattered conversations. To most, it looked like a success. Yet from start to finish, Ariel hadn’t had a single breath of her own.

  Ryn and Lilia stood in silence at the edge of the hall, both watching her move from one partner to another, her smile fixed, her steps automatic.

  “Ryn.”

  He glanced down at her.

  “I have an idea.”

  He nodded

  Lilia was the first to move. Tray in hand, she slipped through the crowd with the practiced grace of a servant, offering drinks to the nobles circling Ariel. Each cup she placed pulled a conversation aside, each smile just enough to slow their approach.

  Ryn trailed a step behind her, silent but far more disruptive. A glance, a word, a polite bow and suddenly half the circle found themselves flustered, stumbling over their replies before he moved on. He didn’t linger long enough to be trapped in talk, just enough to unravel their rhythm.

  By the time the two had finished weaving through, only a thin ring of nobles remained around Ariel.

  Ryn slipped into the circle just as Ariel was being pulled toward yet another nobleman’s extended hand. Lilia was already there, tray in hand, her eyes flashing at him as if to say now. Between them, they boxed her in gently but firmly, steering her toward the edge of the crowd. Before the crowd could even protest, Lilia dipped her head with perfect servant’s grace and said smoothly,

  “Princess, your father requests your presence.”

  Ryn stayed behind, slipping easily into conversation with the guests who reached for Ariel. A question here, a flat remark there, just enough to stall them, to make them look at him instead of her.

  By the time he caught sight of Lilia gently guiding Ariel through a gap in the circle, he dipped into a polite bow and stepped back, slipping away as cleanly as he had entered.

  “Ryn, Lilia—what are you two doing?” Ariel hissed, though her voice lacked real sharpness. Her steps dragged, but her smile faltered too, and Lilia caught the exhaustion in her eyes.

  “Rescuing you,” Lilia whispered, a slight frown on her face

  “You’ve been dancing for hours,” Ryn added flatly. “Any more and you’ll collapse.”

  “I can’t just—my father will—” Ariel started, her protests tripping over themselves as Ryn opened a side door and Lilia nudged her forward with surprising strength.

  For a moment, she stood frozen, torn between duty and the cool night air spilling in from beyond the doorway. Then her shoulders slumped, her mask slipping into something far more human. She looked at the two of them, one exasperated, the other smirking, and finally sighed.

  “…Fine,” she muttered, almost too soft to hear.

  Her veil brushed the doorframe as she stepped through, the gold of the chandeliers falling away behind her. Just before the door closed, she glanced back.

  “Just for a little while.”