Astrid grinned at the reflection smirking back at her.

Technically, she wore the same gown her mother had picked out for the Saviour's Toast. It was the same color, at least. The dark blue velvet draped from her shoulders to her booted feet (it was snowing, after all, so her mother could hardly get upset with the changed footwear). Astrid swished her hips from side to side, watching the small silver studs woven into the fabric sparkle in the low torchlight like a hundred constellations. Her copper cuff gleamed from her elbow like a blood moon.

The girl staring at her from the mirror appeared celestial, other-worldly, like one of Earth's siblings from a forgotten fable. Astrid had always felt a kinship to Darkness—one of the thievery twins from The Tale of Earth's Deceit—so she'd refused the billowy skirts that had widened out the dress at her hips. Those had been the first to go. She had picked at the sewn seams all of that first night until the heavy skirts had fallen away. Now, the velvety material hugged her short, muscular form, allowing her freedom to move amongst shadows. The extra fabric had been fashioned into a dark cloak, fastened around her throat by a short dagger.

And because Darkness had a twin named Light, Astrid didn't feel at all guilty for attaching a solar flare to the sheath around her left thigh.

Her hair would be harder to get away with under her mother's scrutiny. Where Davina had wished for her to look young and harmless, Astrid now looked every part a conqueror. Her blonde hair lay atop her head, twisted and braided into its crown, but there were no loose pieces out of place now. Thin, iron spikes kept it all in place, standing up around her head like a barbed fence.

Gone also were the pink powders and rosy lip stains from the coronation. The only cosmetics she had allowed were a small glittering of golden powder around her eyes and a dark plum color outlining her lips.

She had just bowed to the saviour in the glass when Matthias slipped through the door.

"If you take any longer, I'll—"

Matthias's words startled to a stop. He blinked at her through the mirror. His mouth shut and reopened into a wordless, Oh. 

He looked her over once more and then huffed. "Why must you always go looking for trouble?"

Astrid's smirk flickered into a scowl. "I'll accept that as a compliment." Her velvet cape brushed against his arms as she strode past him. "Let's get on with this, then."

She felt his eyes on her. "Are those knives in your hair?"

It was difficult not to grin to herself.

Matthias didn't speak to her again even as they both silently fought each other for the lead through the fortress and into the Halorian Square. The frosty air attempted to penetrate the thick fabric of her gown, and Astrid swirled to a stop beneath an alcove to observe the decorated courtyard, Matthias at her elbow. Her mother had spared no expense for this Saviour's Toast. Large bonfires sparked within pewter basins set along the perimeter of the square, the heat from the flames beating back the cold from the snowflakes that fell from the star-studded sky. The stars themselves were reflected in the icy cobblestones of the dance floor; the ground had been frozen into a large block of sheer ice on which no one would slip.

It was like walking on glass.

Astrid loathed to admit it looked rather beautiful.

She remembered the last time she had been in this courtyard, the day she had blown up that pedestrian cart. When all of this mess had somehow started. It felt like decades ago, but the memory held a poetic symmetry to it as she subtly patted the solar flare hidden underneath her dress.

Matthias grabbed her wrist, not missing a beat, and pushed it back to her side. "You are not to enter until the queen announces you."

"No need to sound so nervous, Captain," Astrid drawled. "These aren't actual knives on my head."

"That hardly means anything when it comes to you."

Pleased at his reaction, she glanced around at the elaborately dressed patrons milling around the square. Some were holding crystal flutes beneath a swan ice sculpture that was spouting out wine. Others were huddled in groups, admiring each other's jewels and variations of Halorian colors and symbols on their outfits. One man seemed to have frosted the tips of his dark hair, his eyelashes extended inches from his lids like fragile icicles. It was an off-putting effect.

Astrid's mother was not yet in sight.

Her stomach twisted. "And where is our infamous seabass?"

Matthias's gaze narrowed, but it was a different voice she heard from behind her as it proclaimed, "All this splendor, and you still haven't been able to design armor of lighter weight than this?"

Astrid turned to find Abel, clad in a well-fitted guard's uniform, with Sir Melvin to her left and Sebastian on her right. Well, it seemed her mother had kept her word, at least. Astrid dismissed Abel and gave her attention to Sebastian instead. He was already watching her, an expression on his face akin to a look Astrid imagined he'd make if she ever slapped him across the face.

His hazel eyes shone green against the silver of his shirt as they focused on a scattering of silver studs across her bodice. "Draco Ignis," he muttered. "Dragon Fire."

A strange flush stole up her neck. "The constellation, you mean?"

Sebastian nodded. A few snowflakes sat atop his curly head, the low temperature causing his cheeks to redden. "Yes, it's there on your dress. On the hottest days of the year, we could just make it out to the west of Eilibir." His gaze wandered to her hair. "You look a bit frightening."

Astrid shook her head, caught up wandering in the train of his thoughts. "And you look...nice, I suppose."

Abel appeared at his side with a glare. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's a Saviour's Toast meant to impress; he looks as harmless as one of my fingernails."

"That doesn't say much about your hand-to-hand combat skills," Abel snapped.

Astrid was sure Melvin choked on laughter. Well, now, that was just unprofessional. She sneered at them, but Sebastian simply shrugged and glanced down at the billowy cuffs of the silver sleeves that fell down over his wrists from beneath the stiff, crystal-blue dinner jacket that buttoned across his chest. The collar popped stiffly up his neck to just under his chin.

"Regardless," Astrid said, "he comes across as safe." 

He picked at a loose thread. "I'm comfortable being the underdog."

There was a sincerity to his words that Astrid wasn't accustomed to hearing. She stared at him, following the fidgets of his fingers to the slight tousling of his hair in the icy breeze. Someone had sprinkled silvery powder amongst his dark curls as if he had just romped around in a snow covered forest. It forced a shocking image into Astrid's mind of the two of them wrestling in the snow, the weight of his body pressing down into hers—

Astrid blinked. And blinked again. When she forced herself to focus on him, she realized the almost sheer color of his blue coat contrasted her gown shockingly. If she had imagined herself as Darkness, then perhaps Sebastian was meant to be her Light.

By the Scribes, she'd been reading far too many romance novels.

"Why're you looking at him like that?" Abel asked.

Despite the cold air, Astrid felt her skin flush. She spun away from them and nearly startled at Matthias's stoic presence by one of the marble pillars to her right. She had forgotten he was even there. He watched her in turn and, without sparing anyone another glance, said, "Control yourselves tonight, all of you."

A set of chimes rang out across the courtyard. Matthias nodded at one of his guards standing across the square and reached for Astrid's elbow. "That's our signal. Sir Melvin, assist the boy to the stage. And keep the girl close to you. She has eyes like a fox."

Abel snorted, but it was Sebastian who caught Astrid's attention yet again. It was becoming quite tiresome. His cheeks had paled, and his hand trembled as he placed it on Abel's armor-clad shoulder. 

"She won't cause any trouble." His voice remained firm even though his eyes jumped from person to person to the elaborate icicles hanging from roofs back to Astrid who quirked her head at him.

How interesting.

What must it feel like to care about someone the way Sebastian looked at Abel?

Matthias tugged her along the covered pathway around the dance floor. She didn't even have a chance to resist him before her mother finally came into view at the base of a small set of marble stairs. It led up to an elevated platform where famed alchemists, healers, and tutors often addressed crowds of Halorians about recent academic findings and notorieties. The whole ordeal had always seemed overly pompous to Astrid, and now here she was about to take part in everything she had never wanted. What a fraud. She felt Sebastian's arm bump against her hip as Queen Davina regarded them both.

"Well, now! Don't you two make a striking pair!"

It was so hard not to snort when her mother extended her arms wide in a distanced embrace.

"Young d'Aximos, looking every part a humbled Rainier prince—" Sebastian fell into a delayed bow, but it was Astrid who received the blow of Davina's pursed lips—"Astrid...at least you are clothed."

Astrid curtsied if only to better reveal the iron spikes decorating her hair. When she straightened, it was difficult to meet the queen's gaze. Not because Astrid felt particularly guilty about how she'd betrayed her mother's choice of style, but because Queen Davina's own gown radiated a brightness more powerful than the full moon that hung lowly in the sky above.

From beside her, Sebastian raised a hand to his forehead as a shield. Astrid squinted to take it all in. The gown existed in a shade of white that Astrid couldn't have ever imagined was real in this realm. It clung to her chest and waist tightly until it met her hips where it billowed out in layers of ruffling furs. Extending from the shoulders of her sleeves were crystalized icicles in swirling designs.

They made Astrid's own attempts to her outfit seem almost childish.

When her mother turned to address General Lyons, Astrid noticed how her mother's gown glowed. Embodied into the bodice of the gown were thousands of interlocking reflective glass. The flames from the bonfires and hanging lanterns glinted off her dress, and Astrid could even make out the shapes of herself and Sebastian splashed across her mother's stomach. Queen Davina had been the original saviour of Rainier; she was the people's sovereign, and she had designed a dress to encompass just that.

Everyone would be able to see themselves in her.

It was maddeningly brilliant.

Astrid wished to yank the spikes from her head.

Sebastian leaned closer, his words hushed against her ear. "I see what you mean, now, about me looking harmless."

Astrid scowled and stepped away from him just as Queen Davina returned to address her fraudulent saviours. "I will introduce you to those in attendance," she explained, her icy gaze drifting between the both of them. "After the introductions, I will invite the two of you to officially open the ball with a dance."

Sebastian made a small sound in the back of his throat. Astrid glanced at him. He was certainly peculiar: one moment, debating with the queen of Rainier in her throne room and the next, being frightened by a simple waltz. Then again, when Astrid thought of her hidden weapons, the solar flare strapped to her thigh, and his hands on her waist, perhaps there was a reason to be afraid.

She shivered.

"This is your first chance to impress our kingdom. A true saviour is nothing without the support of her subjects. It is earned—" Davina nodded towards Sebastian before fixing Astrid with narrowed eyes—"not birthed."

Astrid could have sworn her mother's gaze flickered directly to where her solar flare was hidden. "Remember all that is at stake for not only yourselves but those whom you care for," Queen Davina said. Sebastian nodded, his attention diverting to Abel, his expression set.

Naturally.

"Come along, then," Davina announced. "They wait for you."

Astrid allowed the subtle bitterness to her mother's tone spur her up those steps and into the public eye of her own perfect storm.

O O O 

If this was a nightmare, Sebastian desperately hoped one of the large icicles hanging above the sheer dance floor would just fall and cleave his head in two to wake him up.

With the confusing emptiness of elapsed time that only dreams could bring, Sebastian wondered at how he came to be in the middle of a courtyard filled with elaborately dressed onlookers and Astrid staring back at him. Her chest nearly touched his own. He knew he was meant to be opening the festivities, but he couldn't seem to focus on anything besides the steady drip, drip, drip of the nearest intricately created icicle melting by the flames of the bonfire beneath it.

He wondered if he could calculate the exact temperature and length of time needed to cause the heavy icicle to fissure and fall—

"Take my waist," Astrid hissed at him.

Sebastian jumped from his violent reveries and glanced down at Astrid, blinking against the sparkles of constellations on her dress. "Your waist...?" The muted sounds of instruments swarmed around him, turned up in volume once more. He blinked again. "What?"

She snatched up his wrist and placed his hand just above her hip. His fingers curved around the soft fabric of her gown, heart beating frantically, trapped behind his ribs. He looked up at the icicle, still dripping but still just as attached to the portico.

Now would be the perfect time, you daft, wet spears.

Astrid's palm slid into his free hand and she grasped his fingers, pinching the skin between his thumb. The sudden pain shocked him. He shook his head and shuffled his feet. "I'm not sure I know how to dance," he muttered.

He nearly fell against her when she tugged at him, forcing him closer. She grinned. "Good. I'm not sure I know how to follow." Her smirk did nothing to ease his nerves. "I'll lead."

She placed one hand on his chest, the other on the base of his spine. She pushed against him. "Stand up straight."

When she patted his chest to get him to comply, a hollow knocking sound came from where her hand had touched him.

Sebastian blushed as she cocked a brow at him and smacked her palm against his chest again. The same sound thumped from the contact. Curse the realms. Sebastian tried to push her off, but then he would have had to start dancing, and he didn't know how to do that. Determined now, Astrid pushed and pressed until the rectangular outline hidden beneath his dinner jacket revealed itself.

Astrid laughed. "Did you smuggle a book into a party?"

Scribal hell, why had he thought it necessary to bring a book, let alone one titled, Polarization of Human Nature, as if he thought himself something other than a mere mortal man?

He was too distracted by her genuine humor to defend himself. Not to mention a little humiliated. So he watched her with what he hoped was a straight face, but laughter had transformed her features, making her blue eyes sparkle. It even popped out one, lopsided dimple on the right side of her mouth.

She laughed again and grabbed his hands in hers, holding them up and out. "You're a strange man, Sebastian."

"I like to read," he muttered.

"Well, so do I," she said, forcing him into position again, "but I tend to leave my scandalous romance novels in my bedroom instead of beneath my clothes. But to each his own, I suppose."

Sebastian spluttered. "I don't read romance. I read information. Manuals. Histories."

"Oh, so boring stuff, then." She winked and her smirk widened. "No wonder you don't know how to dance with a woman."

Their first dance step was shaky at best; Sebastian stumbled over the hem of her dress, which he felt only somehow proved her point about romantic fictions. Astrid made an impatient sound low in her throat that was half giggle, half exasperation, but he remained on his feet and kept his hands on her for support. The watching Halorians clapped politely, and Sebastian distracted himself from his general embarrassment by observing them: the glittering glasses of ruby red wine, the sapphires and diamonds that adorned the men and women, the geometrical shapes of their outfits like snowflakes personified. His fingers gripped into Astrid's waist as he tripped on the pointed tip of her boot.

She pulled him upright. "Don't look at them," she said. "All your focus should be on me, or you'll fall flat on your face. And quit staring at those icicles, too. They won't save you."

Sebastian turned back to her. "How did you—?"

"Honestly, you're quite an easy read, Fisherboy." She slid her hand from his shoulder to his chest and patted the hidden book once more with a roll of her eyes. "Far easier and much less exciting than the books I typically read. Besides, those icicles have most likely been bewitched by alchemists. Nothing here is real."

Sebastian was certain his palm sweated against hers. "They're real." He nodded towards the onlookers who had started to join them on the dance floor. Whether they gave him and Astrid a wide berth because of his clumsy footwork or because of who they now were, Sebastian wasn't sure. "More real than myself, anyways. Skin and bones, but an imposter all the same."

When she didn't immediately respond, Sebastian pulled back and lowered his head. He had never noticed how small she actually was; her sharp chin barely came to his collarbone.

A small frown marred her otherwise blasé expression. "I know what you mean," Astrid said. "We're all imposters."

"Except you. You're the princess of Rainier."

"I thank you sincerely for the reminder. It makes me hate you even more somehow." Astrid clasped his hand as she spun them further away from the others and sighed into the slim space between them. "I'm the princess my mother never wanted. Why do you think she's investing so much in you?" Her eyes glinted as harshly as the reflected flames in the ice beneath their feet. "It's you she's hoping for."

Sebastian's breath tripped and so did his feet. "Why? I'm nothing."

"You still haven't a clue." Her fingers crushed his own so tightly that Sebastian was sure she was angry with him. "You shouldn't even exist." Flames flickered through his stomach. He felt too warm, unsteady. His hand slipped down her waist as she hissed, "You're everything."

He frowned. If only he could spot the one person among all this glittering madness who could remind him most of home and help reestablish who he truly was, perhaps then the pressure in his chest would stop attempting to crush his heart. "I think your mother threatened Abel's life," he said.

To his surprise, Astrid laughed. "That doesn't surprise me."

"What do you mean?" His stomach dropped to his toes, tripping him up again. "Would the queen really do such a thing? She appears to care for you, at least."

Astrid snorted and spun them again, leading them further away from the dancing crowd. They twisted to an abrupt halt as the music shifted to a quicker tempo, half-hidden behind one of the many massive marble columns that decorated the dance floor. Looking at her and the metallic spikes on her head, Sebastian wondered if the sought-out solitude was to seek a place to best murder him. He sucked in a breath when she stretched up into him, her gaze focused on his.

"Make no mistake." Her words felt hot and harsh against the flushed skin of his neck. "She doesn't care for anything other than what she's lost and everything she stands to gain."

The soft material of her gown slid down his front as she lowered herself from him and took a step back. Their hands, which they had clasped during the dance, fell between them. Sebastian stared at her now empty fingers.

"Isn't that what any of us care for?" Sebastian asked, genuinely curious. "The past and the future. No one pines for the present. It's an uncared for space of time on the realm's timeline."

Astrid sighed. "There are also people to be cared for." She unfurled the fingers of her left hand and held out her bare arm to him. Her customary bronze bracelet winked at him from above her elbow. "My mother only cares as much for me as she can control me." She shook her arm at him, frowning at the piece of jewelry. "Go on. Take a look. See the lock. I'm stuck. To this fortress. To the realm. To this ridiculous tournament. It's hardly a life."

His curiosity pushed him towards her, the part of his brain that thrived off puzzles and logic sent his palm against hers. Sebastian encircled her thin wrist with two of his fingers and carefully twisted her arm to observe the cuff. The metal felt flimsy, as thick as his thumbnail, and it would have been a rather beautiful piece of art if he hadn't seen the slim crease that ran through it. An unmistakable hinge with two circular shapes on either side. A lock indeed.

"We're imprisoned."

He met her gaze and was shocked to find the soft expression staring back at him. Clearly, there was a lot more to Astrid than what had first met his eye. He drifted a finger along one of the metallic edges. It felt cold.

"What is it?"

Sebastian would hardly consider himself an expert on others, but her shaky exhale as she pulled her arm from his grasp made him feel strangely masculine. She watched him for a moment, holding her arm against her chest like his touch had burned her.

"Magic isn't something to be celebrated," she finally said. Her eyes flickered with undisguised disgust at the elaborate dancers and guests around them. "It's a parasite. It feeds on the foolish belief of those who live in a magic-less world to keep itself alive. Magic murdered my father."

She returned her attention to him, expression guarded. "Like it almost did to your Abel."

"But..." he paused, his anxiety from that night already seeking out Abel among the guards standing around the perimeter of the courtyard. "You used magic to save her. It can't be all bad."

"Because of this." She swept a hand down her cuff. "It keeps my magic controlled. Lesser. You, on the other hand—you're dangerous."

He had never been called dangerous in his life. Dangerously boring, maybe.

"I don't even know how to use it." Sebastian clenched his fists as if he could hold these powers in. "I don't want this magic." As if sensing those desires, his stomach churned in revolt. On some newfound instinct, he splayed his fingers wide to release the pressure.

Astrid swore as the cauldron of fire behind them extinguished. It doused their little corner in darkness. In the next second, Sebastian shouted as his hand erupted into flickering flames. He staggered backwards into the now empty cauldron so hard that it rocked and clattered to the ground with an almighty crash. Dancers closest to them faltered, but Astrid had already yanked Sebastian behind the marble pillar, her small form somehow blocking his own.

Though she hadn't been quick enough.

Captain Matthias appeared like a wraith from the night. The flames from Sebastian's fleshy torch—his hand—illuminated his harsh jaw. He grabbed Astrid by the neck of her cape with fingers that were not currently engulfed in fire. Like his own. And it was that realization that caused Sebastian to truly panic.

"My skin is on fire!"

Matthias failed to match Sebastian's rising hysteria. "Well, put it back in the cauldron."

"Put it back—?!"

His brain short circuited. He couldn't feel the heat on his arm though waves of it washed across his face, the smoke itching his nose. Surely that was a bad sign. His nerves must have already been irreversibly damaged, burned to ashes. A scream built in his throat. He flung his flaming hand towards Astrid, shaking it like a deranged candlewick.

"Put it out!"

Astrid held her fingers out to him, the motion meant to placate, but instead it made him worry his flames would erupt onto her. What if it spread into a human-eating inferno? He yanked his arm away, yelped when the fire got too close to the lapel of his jacket, then resorted to waving it around again at arm's length like he would have held a dead rabbit. Though he'd take a bleeding rabbit over this any day.

"Seabass. You need to calm down." Astrid's plum lips poised as if to laugh. Anger shook him, and he could have sworn the flames flickered with it. Astrid followed his movements, her expression cool. "Listen to me. It won't harm you, for you summoned it."

"Release it, boy," the captain growled. "You've formed an audience."

Sebastian's fear leapt. "I can't! I don't know how." Sparks flew from his fingernails.

Astrid pushed closer, past Matthias who was scowling between them. "Focus, Seabass. On me." Her face swam through the heat rising from his burning fingers. "Look at your hand. It has not spread."

He sucked in a breath before looking at his arm. For a moment, all he could do was gape at his own flesh. The fire had contained itself to his palm, flames roaming over his fingertips. His wrist was untouched, the seams of his jacket's sleeves not even frayed. Sweat rolled down the side of his forehead. His gaze met Astrid's, a tether extending between them, an anchor that did not break even as she redirected her attention from his face to his flames.

Her eyes shut against the heat. A tense line appeared between her eyebrows, her fingers curling out towards his as if to take hold of the air itself. She winced, barely noticeable, and the fire fled from Sebastian's palm and wrapped itself around Astrid's instead. Sebastian watched, enthralled, as she wound the flames into a tight ball and then flung it to the side. The flaming orb arched through the air, bright against the muted stars of the night, before it collided with one of the ice sculptures. It sizzled, the sound oddly loud amidst the party, the pops from the breaking ice reverberating like the stars themselves applauded the display.

"You missed." Matthias jerked his head towards the overturned cauldron.

Astrid shrugged. "Oops."

She looked towards Sebastian again, a hand wrapped around her prison cuff, nails clawing under it, but she dropped a wink his way all the same.

Applause rang out around them. Real applause that pooled like a rushing waterfall as the stunned guests gathered their wits after the fiery display. Sebastian looked up from his hand—not a single hair on his knuckles fringed—and glanced at the audience that had, indeed, spread around their little alcove. Some had the same awed expression Sebastian was sure he had held himself as he'd observed Astrid's magic. But, to his surprise, some of those expressions were aimed at him. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling Astrid's shoulder brush against his arm.

"You're welcome, by the way."

Sebastian looked down at her, trying to ignore the guests pressing around them. He nodded at her copper cuff, which seemed to glow brighter than before. "It hurt you," he said. "I saw your pain."

Her expression hardened, mental shutters slamming back into place. It made her entire demeanor darken.

"It was nothing," she said before striding away, forcing a path through the applauding crowd. It wasn't difficult. Some jumped away from her as if she were a detonated device, a tint of fear clouding their skittish movements.

But of course, Sebastian thought, they have never seen such power.

Neither have you, a voice very much like his mother's sounded in his head. Though it lives in you regardless.

Sebastian watched Astrid's retreat. Don't leave, he wished to call out to her. I want to understand.

Her midnight-blue cape snapped in her wake, barking at the guests' ankles as the music resumed, the band returning to life. Sebastian turned slowly, running a shaking, unburned hand down his clammy neck. Captain Soiree had disappeared into the reveling throngs of guests. By the Scribes, what if Queen Davina had deemed whatever he had done to be insubordinate? Would she go after Abel? Heat raised from his center.

No! Not again.

Astrid had told him to focus on her. But how could he when she was no longer there? 

His fingers clenched. The sheer ice underneath him began to steam and croak in protest against his weight.

His eyes met Queen Davina's. She watched him and inclined her head with a soft smile.

Invisible nails raked across his skin just as the icy glass shattered beneath his feet. 

_ _ _

Whoops. That was a long chapter. Sorry about that! Hopefully, it kept you entertained...

Thanks you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a comment and a vote. :)