When Gwynn stepped off of the inner-planetary shuttle, she could not believe her eyes. She supposed she should have become more accustomed to castles by now, given how many she had seen within her travels. But yet each of them were so different from each other that it was difficult to not become awestruck every single time.
But perhaps also the Alabaster Palace was beyond anything she'd seen before. It lay in the center of a valley fed by all the rivers of Annwyn, and was a city in its own right. Encased in shining white stone, it was a labyrinthine marvel, with several layers of walls. It was truly impressive in scale and sheer luxury. All the finery did not hide that it was even more a cage than the chateau in the mountains.
In fact, Gwynn feared it would be her tomb.
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For the first two days that Gwynn was at the Alabaster Palace, she was confined to her room. To the credit of the Versailles, it was a pretty room, not a dungeon cell like she'd envisioned on the short flight between the chateau and the Palace.
The furniture was made of elegantly-crafted curving white-gold inlaid with gems, the sheets were soft and vibrant in their colors. The window were made of a rainbow crystal that cast the room in pretty lights. However, the balcony doors were locked and there were no tablets or other such computers. These details were what struck fear in Gwynn's heart.
But Versailles came to visit her at least once both of those days. That was a great comfort to her.
Still, she feared what was to come.
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On the third day, as twilight set outside her window, Versailles came in, dressed in finer clothes than Gwynn was used to seeing him in. They were still black, but with golden embroidery around the cuffs. He carried in a garment bag and placed it on her bed.
"The Emperor is holding a masquerade, and I'd like for you to join me." Versailles gestured at the garment bag on Gwynn's bed. "I had a gown made for you."
Gwynn unzipped it and gasped.
It had a halter neck and a sweetheart neckline that was perhaps the most detailed pink silk she had ever seen. Golden and violet details littered the panels of the wide skirt that stopped just halfway down her calves, where the elegant golden boots picked up. There were no sleeves, but fingerless gloves stretched up nearly to the shoulder, with a layer of pink gauze that gave her the appearance of bell-sleeves.
She ran her hands over the fabric, admiring every expert stitch.
"I can't accept this." She looked up from the gown.
"Why, is it wrong?" He tilted his head.
"No, it's so beautiful. . ."
"Then you can." Versailles coughed awkwardly and straightened his posture.
"I'll wait for when you're ready." Versailles pulled a golden mask from a pocket in his jacket and stepped outside.
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This masquerade was different from the one in the Governor's Mansion. That one had been the fairytale ball of whimsy and celebration, something Gwynn could only fantasize about. But if that masquerade had been a daydream, then this one was a nightmare.
This was also a night of revelry, but the kind that was based in madness and hedonism. Already shrieks and screams harmonized with the live music. The ornate dresses in their bright tones stabbed at her eyes as they moved in a whirl of motion difficult to follow. All faces were hidden behind eerie golden masks, and Gwynn could feel the eyes of others on her.
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She clung to Versailles's arm. And a part of her suspected that he enjoyed that feeling, of being her anchor.
"Let's dance," he suggested. He glanced over his shoulder to someone with disdain—Emperor Kyudan, Gwynn suspected.
The young Emperor with his long black hair wore a black suit with a silver and violet dragon embroidered all down it, and was surrounded by young women of the court.
He was the exact sort of hedonistic lech that Gwynn would want nothing to do with.
"Yes, let's," she agreed as she guided Versailles's hands on her.
When they danced together before at the masquerade ball on Lemuria, Gwynn had let Versailles lead. This time, they were both more involved, with Gwynn leading this move and Versailles that. But it wasn't a power struggle, but rather a concerted effort with the rhythm and flow of a ship sailing through a sea of stars.
If there was anything Gwynn enjoyed about this ball, it was the dress and how her connection with Versailles had changed. She trusted him—even if it might not have been in her best interests. Even if she knew her sister would call her a fool.
Then, all of a sudden, Versailles froze. "He's here."
"Who?"
"Coppelius and his group they're—" His eyes widened. "They're in the mines."
He glanced at the Emperor Kyudan in the crowd. "It's not safe for you to be here. Come with me."
"Why, what's about to happen?" Gwynn followed him all the same, as his grip became viselike on her wrist.
"I don't know, but I can't lose you too."
With that, he pulled her out of the glittering chaos. She stole one last look before they left, and saw a young lord dressed entirely in black approaching the Emperor with what looked to be a sword.
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The mines were dark, with only a few jewel-like lanterns to light the way. But Versailles knew the tunnels well, for her led her with a confidence—right to where the crew of the East Sun was waiting, about to enter a cavern.
"He has Gwynn!" Sorrel shouted. "Attack!"
Akira cast his sickly-green bonds outward, pulling Versailles away from Gwynn and slamming him into the ground. With Delphine's help, the bonds twisted more tightly around him, his hands behind his back.
Sorrel grabbed Gwynn's arm as Coppelius made a grab for Versailles's staff.
"It's time to make sure you can't hurt anyone anymore." Coppelius raised Versailles's staff and found a switch on it, causing a blade to extend opposite to the electrified end.
He had that the whole time?
Gwynn's heart was in her throat. Versailles, for all he had been their enemy, had never been their true enemy. He had held back a blade, an instant end to the fight. Maybe he hadn't known it himself, but in his heart of hearts, even he hadn't truly intended to hurt Coppelius if he could help it. "You can't!"
"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't just end him here?" Never had Gwynn seen him so angry, so dark as he loomed over Versailles as the warrior strained against Akira's bonds. "He's chased me my whole life and he's sold his soul to the Queen and he took you!"
"I love him!" Gwynn found herself shouting. She closed her eyes as the weight of what she said had hit her. She curled her hands into fists at her side. "Please. . . Don't kill him. Let him go with us."
Coppelius hesitated, then nodded decisively. He looked to the cavern."I'll go in. Then we can take him on the ship and decide what to do with him."
"Thank you." Versailles bowed his head.
"Thank her." Coppelius pointed at Gwynn. And with that, he disappeared within the cavern.
They sat there for a long time, in complete silence. Gwynn kept stealing glances at Versailles, who sat there silently in the bonds Akira had conjured, head bowed. No one knew what to say or do.
Gwynn felt flushed at her own confession and avoided her sister's eyes, even though she knew they were upon her with so many questions.
After that small eternity, Coppelius emerged from the cavern—but Gwynn had never seen him look so defeated.
"My father is dead," he declared, holding snatches of a bright yellow scarf. "This belonged to him, my mother made it for him."
"No," Sorrel gasped. "Coppelius. . . I'm so sorry."
He said nothing for a long time. When he did, he looked up at Versailles. "Did you do this?"
"No."
Coppelius pressed his lips together and folded the scarf into his satchel. "We should return to this to where it belongs."
"And where is that?" Gwynn frowned.
"My mother's house on my original homeworld." Coppelius hesitated. "Kells."