We adjourned for the day so we could get settled in to our rooms and Vargas and Coraggio could carry out their part of the plan. I had full confidence that the two could put on a convincing performance, but I had trouble believing that it would actually work. Relying on dramatics instead of evidence didn’t sound very reliable to me, but it was better than doing nothing.

In my heart, I knew Rastari had been right. If the women had been born noble, there would have been a thorough investigation for each victim, but my father's men deliberately chose to victimize women who had no one to protect them or care about their deaths. No records, no evidence, no proof, and I was the only witness.

The weight they'd placed on my shoulders was immense. Now, not only would I have to speak out against my father, I would also have to convince the nobles with my story. I wasn't charismatic like the First Prince, nor was I a natural performer like Rastari. All I could do was tell the heartfelt truth and pray that it would be enough.

There would be a welcome banquet held for us that evening, much smaller in scale than the engagement banquet. Tonight, the attendees were to include just the beast delegation, the Royal Family, and the representatives of the four great ducal houses.

There was no question that both my father and the Second Prince would be in attendance, as well as the Duke and Duchess of Lindenfort. However, the Duke of Shelfort would be there with the Lady Carlotta, so we wouldn’t be entirely surrounded by enemies. I was also curious to meet the parents of Marquis Heinrich, who were largely unknown to me.

As they were for any Royal event, appearances would be everything. The First Prince had, of course, planned for such things, and half a movement after we’d been shown to our rooms, there was a knock at the door announcing the arrival of the servants who would prepare us.

The First Prince had courteously arranged for Andrian and I to get ready together. Though, perhaps it was less out of courtesy and more for my own safety. There were at least a few people out there who would see me dead given the opportunity. My father and the Second Prince were both high on that list.

They took us to a larger bathing room than the once I’d used the last time I was in the Palace. Similar to the temples and public bathhouses in the Beastlands, the tub was a large pool of water built into the floor. Green and blue tiles decorated the entire room, with porcelain sinks and shower fixtures inlaid with gold. Lilies floated atop the bathing water and the room smelled of lavender and vanilla.

We showered the travel dirt off of our skin and stepped into the steaming bath water. The servants were at the ready and coaxed each of us into raised seats at the edges of the tub and began washing our hair and scraping the accumulated dirt from our skin. My skin began to feel raw before they were done, but I couldn’t deny how soft my skin felt.

The attention we were receiving was far more intense than before the engagement banquet, and it somewhat reminded me of the temple bathhouse before our joining. Looking across the pool at Andrian, I smiled peacefully as I remembered the happiness I’d felt that day. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing as he reflected my smile back at me.

Once we were washed and scraped, we swam in the pool for a while, splashing each other occasionally as we enjoyed the warm water. The servants waited patiently as we played, surprisingly indulgent of our behavior. We got out of our own accord before they had to remind us, and were rewarded by being wrapped in some of the softest towels I’d ever touched.

I had a pretty good idea of what would come next. First grooming, which would probably involve cutting our hair, then clothing. I didn’t particularly care what they did with mine, but I had no intention of letting them cut off Andrian’s beautiful mane.

Fortunately, that wasn't part of their plan. While they trimmed my hair into whatever matched the latest trend, four deft fingered servants braided Andrian’s hair into hundreds of tiny braids, threading amber silk into them before twisting them in a wild cascade on top of his head. It looked spectacular, but it also somehow reminded me of Adelia’s tangled strands. I wondered how she was faring without my help. I smiled as I imagined her cursing me for leaving.

The servants left my own hair surprisingly long, with an asymmetrical part and tiny gold plated braids scattered throughout to “offset my husband’s look.” Even if I ignored the braids, which tugged my hair uncomfortably whenever they were slightly disturbed, I already missed my much simpler style.

They took us to dress and brought us to the giant dressing room I’d been in before. Or perhaps it was a different one. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear the Golden Palace boasted dozens of such rooms. A somewhat familiar looking servant with grey streaked black hair began barking orders at the other servants, demanding various pieces from different outfits that they all somehow knew the locations of within the vast dressing room.

“My Lords, the inspiration behind your clothing is in complete contrast to the popular styles. Current fashion is for the woman to wear a dress in a lighter shade of her partner's chosen suit. Lilac with purple, sky with navy, pink with red, and so on. Miss Amelie advised that your outfits should make a statement that contradicts that, but still shows an understanding of the trend. Our idea involves putting together two matching suits that will play on that concept by mixing dark and light on each of you, but in perfect contrast with each other,” the woman explained, seeming to think we would understand what she was talking about.

“That was a lot of words that I didn’t understand. Vraynian fashion still eludes me, I’m afraid. You lost me after the part about contrasting popular style,” Andrian admitted. He looked to me to see I’d been able to follow and I shrugged to tell him I was in the same situation. He added, “It might be better if you just show us.”

The woman seemed unsurprised by our response, nodded, and replied, “Yes, I suppose that would be better. Miss Amelie did indeed warn me that you're both clueless about these things. Come, they should be finished gathering everything soon.”

When the other servants were done, two full suits had been pieced together and what she had said before suddenly made a bit of sense. One suit of deepest purple, the other of deepest indigo. The purple suit, which was sized for Andrian, had a pale blue shirt to accompany it, and my indigo suit came with a shirt of pale lilac.

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“I hope you understand my meaning now that you have seen it, My Lords,” she said, with a somewhat haughty sniff, looking very pleased with herself.

She was the servant, but she was clearly the one in charge here. Accordingly we both quietly obeyed when she sent us behind separate sets of curtains to get dressed.

Alone in the private dressing room, I tried on the suit they had put together for me. The shirt was high necked and very transparent. It fit me like a glove and looked like a lilac colored second skin. The only telltale sign that it was a piece of fabric was the line of tiny jewels along the collar, just below my chin.

The indigo suite was made out of a material that looked like worn parchment. However, it was soft and flexible, its appearance merely an elaborate facade. The dark fabric shimmered in the light, like miniature stars at twilight. The pants were almost as form fitting as the shirt, but the jacket was more like a short robe that wrapped around me, held in place by a jeweled lilac sash. The finishing touch was a pair of deep purple boots, the color of Andrian’s suit.

It was elegant, fashionable, and so over the top that I didn’t want to leave the private dressing room. But since I couldn't hide in there all night, I accepted my fate, pulled the curtains open, and went back into the main room.

As soon as I saw Andrian, my knees became weak. I couldn’t even call what he was wearing a suit, but every inch of him was a work of art. His pants were as tight as my own, made from crushed velvet and the color of a ripened plum. His shirt was mostly just mesh fabric the color of a cornflower wrapped around his torso, drooping strategically in certain places and with just barely enough layers to not be transparent.

His jacket was more like a large vest, sleeveless and it hung wide open, showing off the fabric draped all over his torso. His shoes were jeweled indigo slippers. Combined with the braids, they’d created a very exotic look for him that I wouldn’t have expected from the servants of the Golden Palace.

Andrian seemed to be as entranced as I, not saying a word, simply taking me in from head to toe. The servant looked us both up and down before nodding approvingly.

“My Lords, I believe you are ready,” she commented, “just be aware that we chose your styles deliberately to cause a stir, so don’t be surprised if there are some who lack the refinement to comprehend the artistry. You are fashion and rebellion all in one, in a way that I believe reflects the nature of your coupling.”

Again, the words coming out of her mouth were familiar enough to my ears, but I had no idea what they meant when put together in such an order. What was rebellious about dressing up for a banquet?

Thankfully, Andrian still looked as lost as I, so I felt confident that the issue wasn’t with us. Perhaps I had already lived too long in the Beastlands to ever fit it with Vraynian high society. Still, I didn’t feel like that was a bad thing. Rastari would have been happy to point out how many people we could feed from the cost of the jewels they’d attached to our clothes. Thinking about it in those terms made me want to do something that was actually rebellious and wear a simple shirt and breeches to the banquet.

However, none of that could dissuade my desire to continue looking at Andrian in those tight pants and draped fabric. It was incredibly sensual, and I couldn’t help but imagine slowly unwrapping him and claiming him. How could he look so delicious in those ridiculous clothes? Perhaps sensing my impure thoughts, the servant tsked at me and informed us that she would now escort us to the dining hall where the banquet would take place.

We were led into a large dining hall that could qualify as an intimate space in the Golden Palace. There was a bar set up against a far wall, a dining table big enough to seat twenty, and a seating area with couches and chairs. It seemed that Andrian and I were the last to arrive.

What the servant had told us about the current fashion proved to be true. The three ducal couples were all wearing dark suits and matching light dresses, except for the Duke of Shelfort and the Lady Carlotta, the mother and son pair, who wore silver and grey.

The room, which wasn’t all that noisy to begin with, fell silent upon our arrival.

“It seems the guests of honor have finally decided to grace us with their presence,” I heard the Second Prince comment from his position on one of the couches. “Marquis Julien, General Andrian, come join us,” he beckoned.

That couch was probably the last place in the room I would want to go, as both the Second Prince and my father were sitting there. My father wore a suit of emerald and my stepmother sat next to him wearing a dress of seafoam green. Somehow, the muted color placed next to a bolder color gave an impression of subservience. The Second Prince, who had no partner to match with, wore a mix of chocolate and champagne, which made his plain brown eyes seem all the more drab.

Not seeing much of a choice, I offered my arm to Andrian, and we went over to join them. We sat on a couch opposite the other three. An uncomfortable silence followed our arrival, and I patiently waited to find out what they wanted from me. Perhaps they’d already heard about Vargas’s performance.

“Son,” my father finally greeted me in a stiff and formal voice, “you look better than expected. I really hadn’t anticipated you being so versatile, considering how useless you've always been.”

“Ah, my friend, in my experience, your son is very adaptable when it suits him. He was clinging to this beast here from the moment they arrived,” the Second Prince informed him, his upper lip curling in contempt.

“Prince Eduard,” Andrian interjected, smiling like he was enjoying their company, “I was actually wanting to thank both you and the Duke here. The two of you helped bring us together, after all.”

“Yes,” a voice from behind us chimed in. Rastari sat on a chair beside us in a suit of vivid orange. “We do owe you a lot of thanks. If not for your interference, things wouldn’t have gone nearly so smoothly.”

The Second Prince and my father stiffened at his words. If I hadn’t known better, I would have missed the barbs in that seemingly pleasant statement. Rastari just continued to smile while their faces hardened. Picking up two glasses of wine from the table, he handed one to me.

“My former fiancée here has established himself quite well in the Beastlands,” Rastari commented, “He’s not much of a talker, as I’m certain you already know, but he’s quite skilled at potion making. We consider his presence an asset to the treaty and to his community.”

“It is certainly lovely to see my stepson doing so well for himself,” my stepmother commented, breaking her silence, “though I am a bit concerned that whoever helped you get ready may have played a little trick on you.”

“Oh, were they? Well, I don’t know much about your fashion, so that’s possible,” Andrian answered as if he were truly concerned. “What part did we get wrong?”

“I’ll explain it in terms that a beast like you can understand. Your bitch should have worn a pretty blue dress so everyone would know what she is,” my stepmother simpered with a nasty smile.

I was caught off guard by her attack, but Andrian laughed cheerfully in response to her sweet venom before quietly asking me, “Was I supposed to wear a dress?”

I almost choked on my wine.

“That’s more than I ever wanted to know about you two,” Rastari laughed, shaking his head. I couldn’t help but smile a little along with him.

Seated between Rastari and Andrian, I could almost forget that I was in the presence of my former abusers. It was an empowering feeling, to not be helpless before them.