Estefania could still hardly believe her luck. She'd dreamed of reuniting with her siblings, but now that it was real, she wondered if maybe there was just a drop of magic left in the world that answered her wish.

Unfortunately, everything else was all wrong. Her betrothed didn't want to marry her. Her brother hadn't been seen since dinner the night before, and no one could find him. Not to mention that Avangelique was more Cyran now than Saharite, and their grandmother was too ill to move.

The only thing going her way was that Nathaniel was on her arm. He'd been too quiet since they returned to Cyra. She missed his jovial manner and the smile his rangers brought to his lips.

She could feel her skin crawling as every eye watched her in the ballroom. Ladies whispered like spiders spinning webs behind their fans, and men's gaze dragged up her body to size up Sahar's heir.

The marquis kept her steady. He spun her onto the dance floor to avoid idle chit-chat. The practiced steps kept them both busy, and his constant skin connection made her feel protected.

"Don't listen to them," he whispered as the dance brought his head close to her ear. "The women of Cyra are nothing but gossiping busybodies. Each one would kill and curse to marry Fletcher."

A shiver went down her spine. "Your brother doesn't want to marry me."

"He's a fool," the marquis's voice was heavy. "You are a prize, Estefania de Sahar."

His words washed over her like a burning fire. Fletcher was a fool to discard her. Even if she wasn't saving her country, turning down the heir of Sahar was foolish. Fletcher had the perfect chance to merge their kingdoms, and he wanted to throw it all away without giving her a reason.

"He said he didn't want to pass on burdens," Estefania's hand pressed against Nathaniel's as they turned. "Any idea what he meant by that?"

"You think you're the only family that fairy cursed?" Nathaniel's laugh was rough. "She didn't just steal Caitryn. She gave each of the king's children a challenge—a curse, if you will."

"And you think Fletcher doesn't want to contaminate me or something?" Estefania frowned. "I'm cursed too, you know."

"We all are," Nathaniel shook his head. "But Fletcher shouldn't use it as an excuse. His curse at least allows him to live a normal life."

That almost caused Estefania to lose step with the beat. What kind of curse could make a prince flee a marriage alliance? And why did Nathaniel act like Fletcher's curse was no big deal? It just didn't make sense.

"Maybe it's for the best," Estefania said. "There are other eligible bachelors. I could marry one of my people. Or, if I wanted to be different, I hear that The Earl of Nene has a son my age. Isn't there also the son of a duchess from Ryne?"

Nathaniel's hand slipped from her hip. "You're not serious."

"Would that be wrong?" Estefania gave him a hard look.

He stiffened and stopped in the middle of the dance floor. "You're promised to my brother. I cannot step in Fletcher's way. I'm not legitimate, and I'm not a prince. I cannot replace him."

"No," she leaned in close. "You're a ranger, and you run errands for your brother because he's too afraid to do them himself. You're a marquis willing to roll over and do anyone else's bidding."

Nathaniel shook his head. "You know, I thought you would be a good match for Fletcher, but maybe I was wrong. You're callous, your highness."

Her blood boiled. Here, she was trying to save her country, and the only person who was nice to her was being cruel. She pulled away from him, but he tugged her back by the wrist.

Estefania gasped as something sharp dug into her arm. Glancing down at where they were connected, she saw claws beading crimson.

"Let go of me," she snapped.

Nathaniel's pupils dilated, and he jerked away from her and shoved his hand into his pocket. Then, with his other hand, he pulled a handkerchief out of his sleeve and tied it to mop up the blood.

"I'm sorry," his voice was hoarse. "I tried to warn you. Fletcher can at least feel things. Me... I'm messed up, Nia."

She immediately felt bad. Her curse had never really felt real. She didn't know what it meant to only love what was monstrous. She assumed it was why she was sent to a faraway settlement of celibate monks, but she'd never gotten close to anyone.

She didn't want to ruin her relationship with Nathaniel. He was the only person she'd connected with since she'd come back. She couldn't lose him.

"I apologize," she said. "I shouldn't judge you. After all, I hate that fairy as much as you do."

Nathaniel stiffened. "She took my baby sister. I don't even know if Caitryn is alive."

"We are going to find her," Estefania vowed. "I'm going to break these curses and save Sahar. It's the only way both of our kingdoms will be safe."

Her heart burned with the vow. Maybe there was a remnant of the Fairy Empress inside her because she felt like she could feel there was a way. Somehow, she would save magic.

"How?" Nathaniel wouldn't meet her eyes. "There are no wishes left. The fairies are dead. Their isle is a wasteland."

She reached for his hand. "We can figure it out together."

They walked off the dance floor together. While many of the guests gawked at them, the crowd parted so they could join Avangelique and Lorenzo at the far side of the ballroom near the exit into the gardens. The shadows seeped through the windows from the darkness outside, making the corner a perfect spot to hide and observe.

Her sister was chattering with two other girls while Lorenzo seemed distracted. His eyes were trained on the other side of the ballroom.

"Is our brother here yet?" Nathaniel asked.

"No," Lorenzo said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to skip the event entirely. My head is pounding, so I can't imagine how he feels."

Nathaniel bit his lip. "I can go find him. He really cannot miss this ball, no matter how he feels. It would be a scandal if he never showed up."

"You solve that, and I'll work on the other problem here," Lorenzo's eyes returned to the same spot on the other side of the room.

Estefania followed his gaze with interest. That's when she realized that Lorenzo was starting at Bastien. Her brother was on the dance floor with a beautiful blonde girl his age in a deep, dark blue dress. Her long, wavy blonde hair reached her hips in a mussed curtain and was adorned with a single peacock feather.

"Who-" The word caught in her mouth.

"That's the problem," Lorenzo said. "I know everyone in our kingdoms, and I have never seen that girl in my life."

Estefania frowned. Her brother was laughing at something the girl said. She hadn't seen Bastien since last night, but this girl made him light up like a candle in the depths of night.

"How is it a problem?" She asked.

Lorenzo shook his head. "That dress doesn't belong to that girl. It's too long and clearly wasn't designed with her in mind. Between that fact, her messy hair, and the fact that I can't place her... it's just suspicious..."

"Learn what you can," Nathaniel unlaced his fingers from hers. "I'll find Fletcher."

She didn't want him to go. Estefania couldn't help the marquis if he kept pulling away from her. Still, she understood that he needed to keep Cyra his top priority, even if that meant running off to find the brother she'd been promised to marry.

Nathaniel gave her one last look and slipped away into the crowd. Then she turned her attention back to her brother and the stranger.

"How are you going to learn anything about that girl?" She asked Lorenzo.

"Avangelique will do most of the work," he said. "Your sister is surprisingly good at learning things from the gossip mill. I'll keep an ear to the ground, but unleashing Ava will take care of it. She's already started her rounds."

Avangelique dragged her friends into a larger pack of blonde girls dressed in finery. Everyone greeted her, and she immediately melded into the group, with the only major difference being her dark hair and tan skin.

It was more than Estefania could do. Not a single woman approached her. Without Nathaniel, she felt exposed, like a plant in the desert wilting under the beating sun.

Lorenzo was different from his two brothers. He was a few months older than Avangelique and less uptight. He wasn't mad about Bastien, only curious about his guest, and saw no need to rush anything.

His patience paid off. It wasn't long before Bastien led his mystery guest across the room to where they were standing. As she approached, Estefania noticed the girl was gaunt and unnaturally pale without artifice. Her green eyes were wide, and she traced patterns against her dress and scrunched the fabric in her hand.

"Bash," Estefania said. "It's good to see you. Who is your friend?"

"Steffie," Bastien beamed. "This is my friend Wryn from Nene."

Estefaina glanced at Lorenzo. The Cyran prince raised an eyebrow, but it didn't look like he recognized her name.

"Pleased to meet you, Wryn," Estefania said. "How did you meet her?"

"I was walking around, and when I saw her, I just knew I had to meet her," Bastien said. "I wanted to bring her to the ball."

"Welcome to Cyra," Lorenzo said. "Do I know your family, Wryn?"

"I'm not sure," Wryn said. "I'm not close with my family."

Lorenzo's brow furrowed. He opened his mouth, and he looked like he was about to say something, but he was silenced as Nathaniel returned to their group, followed by Fletcher, who had his arm around Elowen.

Bastien turned to greet the prince. Estefania noticed Wryn stiffened as the new arrivals stopped in front of them.

"Good evening, Prince Bastien," Fletcher said. "Who is your guest?"

Elowen inhaled. Everyone turned to look at her. After all, she was the only person from Nene here. It was possible that she knew the girl.

Elowen just gaped at the girl. Fletcher looked at her concerned, and his arm tightened around her waist. She swallowed and seemed to gather her courage.

"That's my dress," Elowen said.

Wryn blushed. All three of the Cyran royals looked at the stranger with newfound horror. Elowen stared at the dress in shock and looked at the girl with growing concern.

"We can explain, Elowen," Bastien said. "I took the dress for her. She didn't think that you'd mind. We tried to locate you but couldn't find you in the crowd."

Estefania turned on her brother. "Bastien, what is going on?"

"It's a long story, Steffie," Bastien said. "But Wryn and I-"

"Wryn?" Elowen's jaw dropped. "How are you even here?"

The blonde girl looked up with tears in her eyes at Elowen. Her lip quivered, but she managed to push it into a smile.

"Bash helped me find out what the countess was doing to me, and then he set me free from the magic tether in my room." Wryn's voice was quiet, "I'm cured, El."