"You look like you could use a drink," Noah commented, buttoning up his white collared shirt. He wisely turned his attention back to the mirror before continuing. "Though I don't suppose there will be much for liquor."

Jeremy snorted from the armchair in the corner of their dressing room. He'd been dressed hours ago, feet propped on the coffee table with his head lolled back.

"You're not to drink before the Final Ceremony is complete," Sorein reminded them both. "Though surely you'll find sweet release soon after."

"Are you calling me an Alcoholic, Chakrine?" Noah asked. He tossed him a dirty look and feigned offense.

Sorein only laughed and shook his head.

He'd also finished dressing rather early, using the time to straighten the gray tie and identify the most turbulent pieces of hair desperate to avoid oil.

Anything to avoid thinking about the Final Ceremony.

When Noah finished and threw his suit jacket over his shoulder - the closest he'd likely come to wearing one - they were ready to leave.

Jeremy uncoiled from the chair and brushed himself off, leading them to the door before freezing. The Captain had opened the door just before Siofra had time to knock. In front of him was the softly panting blonde Sorein had been trying to dodge for days now.

A mess, her stress had made sure her hair was greasier, clinging to her cheeks as sweat threatened to ruin the problem areas in her blouse.

"I need to speak with the Prince," Siofra stammered. "It's important."

Sorein blinked, his confusion growing.

If something had happened to Iliya, he didn't know what he'd do.

Murder could be rather unseemly on a dancefloor.

Jeremy looked at him, waiting.

Sorein lifted his hand, dismissing them to the Ball. "I'll meet you there."

His friends left quickly, closing the door behind them as Siofra slipped inside.

She seemed so unstable, her composure faltering. For the first time, he watched Siofra's hands tremble slightly at her sides, her gaze flickering around the room.

She began pacing back and forth in front of him.

"I don't know what to do," she began. He wondered if perhaps she needed to coach herself. "She's going to attend the Final Ceremony now, she won't listen to me."

"Slow down," Sorein said, stepping in front of her. "What happened?"

Siofra's lips pursed, her arms crossing. "I begged her not to go to the Final Ceremony... Begged her and she wouldn't listen to me. I need you... I need you to go find her and tell her to stay in her room tonight, Sorein."

"Why?"

"Because she listens to you and–"

His brows furrowed. "No, why must I stop her from going to the Final Ceremony?"

The Guard flinched at those words. Sorein realized then that she'd already heard them. He knew it would've been the first question Iliya asked when Siofra talked to her.

And if Iliya planned to attend anyway, then Siofra hadn't given a good enough reason.

Meaning this was her last resort.

"She's going to get hurt," Siofra relented. "We all are if she isn't careful."

She spoke as if something massive was revealed, but the statement only confused him more.

He scoffed, leaning against the door frame of a nearby closet. "How? Why?"

She shook her head. "I can't say... Gods, this would be so much easier if I could."

Sorein wasn't certain he knew what to do with the wild Therian in front of him. Her demands masked something weighted and odd. She could mean thousands of ways Iliya might get hurt.

"If you care for her so much, why not just watch over her tonight then?" He asked.

"You don't understand! This whole event could be a trap, I don't even know the depths of this..."

He wanted to remind her that should she overstep whatever secrecy she was sworn to, the consequences could very well kill her. Not to mention how she's already failed by being so blunt with her actions. If he were a better man, he would.

Sorein sighed through his nose.

"If you're here, she's already declined you, so I assume she's preparing for the Ball?" He asked, an edge frosting his tone.

Siofra nodded, hesitant.

"I won't deny her," Sorein stated, stepping over to the door. He fought to leash any anger threatening his voice. "She's been denied enough, Siofra. I'll go, I'll keep her company. I'd already intended to anyway."

She sagged, rubbing her hands over her face. "She shouldn't be going at all..." she murmured.

Though she might've been relieved, Siofra did little to show it.

Sorein opened the door and gave her a nod before leaving the room. He found himself down the lengthy stairs, roaming around the outskirts of the ballroom absently. He walked until he stood before the Aphyre.

The black obsidian's aura flared around his presence, a soft hum echoing from the Sealing Chamber.

He felt the draw, the allure that had been calling to him for the last several years. As well as the aching pressure of his magic pressing against his soul and snaking around his bones.

But he turned his back to the chamber, focusing on the short girl trying desperately not to stumble down the stairs, an arm bracing on her guardsmen.

Rhydian laughed at something Iliya had whispered to him, smiling and nodding along.

The Princess of Chiori Faire was stunning in her dusty rose gown, lined with black leather. The color accented against her paling skin, her bright green eyes, as if she were a solstice goddess.

She was losing rigidity, her posture looser than before.

That was, until her eyes landed on dias.

On him.

Sorein watched as Iliya straightened at the sight of him and smiled. She stood there, the spitting image of a fish floundering on land. Her nerves had her focus darting around before, on the whispers and the music, but now her focus stayed on him.

He slipped away from the Sealing Chamber, down to the dancefloor and found his way to her side.

Slowly, gently, he bowed and held out his hand.

He wanted Iliya to challenge those gossips, to stand against them together. To make them question everything.

Iliya gripped his fingers like a lifeline, sliding her hand into his.

Sorein guided her stiff body out onto the floor before wrapping an arm around her waist.

She tensed at the contact for a moment before relaxing into it. The music began, violins and wind instruments joining the piano forte.

He tipped his head down, his lips close to her ear. "Do you remember how to do this?" Sorein asked, chuckling.

Iliya scowled up at him, fighting the smirk on her lips. "Do you think I'm some invalid?"

"Apologies, Your Highness," he said, pulling her into motion.

Sorein noticed the flare in her eyes, the raging fire that seared inside of them flash at his statement.

Slowly their steps created rhythmic circles around the floor. A proper, gentle waltz. Nothing overwhelming.

He kept track of every small move the other dancers made, weary of bumping into them or spooking her.

"You know you don't have to call me that," she murmured. "Titles are only a formality."

"Perhaps, though formality can make for an amusing game," Sorein replied. He nodded toward his friend in the far corner, offering Lady Gothalis a wine glass. "If I were a betting man, I'd say Noah won't be home tonight."

Iliya snickered, actually laughing at his words as she followed his stare. "Perhaps," she agreed, offering a small shrug. "Though I don't know a fair bit of the inner drama within courts, I'm a bit out of touch."

Sorein's smirk only grew. "Ah, but see, that's all part of the fun," he said. For someone who detested the small talk, he'd certainly wound up in plenty of the wrong places. "Think of it like an etheris file."

Iliya tipped her head to the side, brows drawing together.

"These people know nothing about you, Iliya, save that you are the hidden Princess. They know you are both Fae and Therian," he explained, keeping his eyes trained on her face now. "You make them uncomfortable because you are an unknown."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying knowledge is power," Sorein answered. He slipped their hands up and spun Iliya beneath them before pulling her close again. "So attain knowledge, Iliya."

The song changed into a more lively melody, higher notes chirping through the air. Sorein smiled at her and picked up the pace, feeling Iliya follow suit without question.

She didn't stumble once, though her glazed over eyes turned sharp as she glanced around the room. Then back to him. "How?"

He raised a brow, his smile turning into a wicked smirk. Challenging her to think.

Iliya looked at Rhydian near the back of the room now, standing beside Elosea. "What happened to her family?"

Sorein noticed who she was talking about and sighed. "A great many things, some even claim she's cursed."

"Cursed?" She asked.

"It's said that the day her Father and Uncle went into Mt. Agonii, they disrupted an ancient force... No one is sure how, but it tainted Keitrebi Forest and corrupted the land surrounding Draiwyld," he said. Sorein tried to remember the facts before the rumors, not speaking of anything that might get the Princess into trouble. "As you can imagine, that's made their relationship with Medeis quite strained."

The melody ceased, allowing the gathered crowd to get into rows and prepare for the first organized dance.

Sorein watched Iliya's face pale, fear locking her into a stiff stance. He fought the faint chuckle pressing in his throat and shook his head. Her gaze snapped to him.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," he offered through their Erietii.

Despite bristling at his words, her spine relaxed and Iliya moved into place across from him. Soon, a recorded symphony would play and years of grooming would kick in for both of them. This dance, the Solstice Ceremony of Light, reflected more instinctually if not slightly wild in nature.

"Isn't it rude to dance with you alone?" He heard suddenly, her soft whispered question settling into his mind.

Sorein smirked at her from across the space. Taking one step forward when the male in front of him did.

"Did someone else offer?" He asked.

Their playful banter was returning in small waves. No matter what, he wouldn't risk getting his hopes up.

Her answering glare was enough.

One after another, pairs would meet in the center of the space, circling each other with arms raised but not touching.

The couple before them was a human Lord from Nynoli, his partner a young Therian woman he didn't recognize.

Their stances were slightly better than clumsy. The man let his nerves show, but the woman merely nodded and offered a little grin.

A ritual of courtship was turning more and more into the dance of lifetimes.

Another moment and it became their turn.

Without another thought, Sorein approached Iliya in time with the music. She was thinking too hard, her actions forced as she threw her wrist out against his and they began to circle one another.

A predatorial dance that almost made him feel like a hunter.

They clasped hands, Sorein pulling her tight to him as they glided up and down the waiting line of attendants. His attention strayed from their path, the fabric of her gown catching on his shirt for a moment. She smelled like citrus and fog sweeping through the wind – enchanting, dangerous, subtle. The energy skittering around her was even wilder.

Even more reason for the others to fear her.

The unknown was a weakness.

After a long silence between them, the song ended and normal courting resumed.

Sorein could've sworn he saw her cave with relief.

Iliya stalked toward him with more confidence than before, reaching out to take up the dancing again.

Stunned, he took her hand and obliged.

"So what about the Fae?" she murmured.

For once the idea of gossip didn't nauseate him.

Perhaps it was knowing he was giving her more comfort and a better chance at surviving her centuries.

"What of them?" Sorein asked, seriousness settling in to him. There were many.

Iliya paused, fidgeting beneath his hold. Then she lifted her gaze to the room and scanned the crowd. The growing flock surrounding the buffet. Subtly, her chin jerked towards one.

A sandy blond male stood with a wine glass firmly gripped in his hand. He looked uncomfortable, but calm. Similar to Noah, he'd had only a white dress shirt, though the sleeves were rolled up as if it were the end of the night. Lengthy black sleeves of fabric wrapped around his wrist, but ended at the elbow.

"That would be my cousin, Levias," he sighed. Though sharp cheekbones and apathy were really the only traits they shared. "He is head of Solraidas' task force. Like a fancy policeman."

Iliya hummed for a moment, tapping her forefinger against one of Sorein's knuckles absently. "Wouldn't I technically be your cousin?"

A laugh escaped him before he could stop it. "Maybe six generations and three hundred years ago," Sorein mused, shaking his head. "But no, not anymore."

"Why?" she asked. Iliya's face flushed at his laughter.

Mastering his amusement, he cleared his throat. "We are the immediate children of the twins. The gods Nimian and Heithos gave birth to Alette and Andrin, who bore us. Though Levias was born two centuries before I was."

Sorein noticed all the questions crossing through her mind as her lips pursed and her brows narrowed. He hadn't had to explain this sort of thing in a very long time.

Yet the one she picked was the last thing he expected to hear.

"Do you think some of the Gods are still here...?"

Couples passed them as Sorein slowed. He didn't know why she'd be concerned with that or if it were even possible.

"Well," he said. Words escaped him. These weren't questions they could ask in school, in Temple. No one had ever uttered a thing about their ancestors. "The Creators... Taranis and Aida, Peruk and Kolida... They left, protecting the balance between life and death in the Afterworld..."

"But?"

His lip quirked at her knowing. "But, some are unknown."

"Some, but not all?"

Sorein shot a quick glance around them before pulling her off the dancefloor near the dias. "Carya was a mortal Goddess, thus her being beloved mostly by Nynoli. She passed almost two hundred years ago, but Nimian, Mellinus, Heithos... even Karna..."

"No one ever wondered? No one ever asked?" She demanded, her jaw clenching.

Something was eating her alive.

"What is it?" Sorein tugged at the bond. If she didn't want to say it out loud, he wouldn't make her.

Iliya took a deep breath, sorting something out to herself. "She's hiding something from me," she replied. "I think they all are..."

After Siofra stormed into his room and begged him to watch Iliya, Sorein would have to agree. He wasn't fluent in Therian customs, but he knew the Elixir's Casters developed to insure silence were as gnarly as they came. Fortunately he'd never had to take one.

Still, he wasn't aware of anything she should be concerned about.

She frowned like she read the words on his face.

"Who?"

Iliya blinked for a minute, but her gaze landed on her mother, dancing with Ezre.

"What do you think they have to hide?"

Her swallow was audible. Sorein could hear her heartbeat grow stronger, pumping through her anxiety.

Their bond went taut and strained as the last chorus quieted down. Iliya opened her mouth to speak but the soft chime of a glass cut her off.

Ezre and Andrin now stood at the head of the room, on either side of the Sealing chamber.

Sorein felt her fingers tighten around him before she let go entirely.

Now.

The Final Ceremony was to begin, now.