“Are you ready for your grand entrance?” Tiyala asked Saelina, barely able to contain her excitement.

“You mean, am I ready to face the wrath of your son, who already has a low opinion of me?”

The older woman smiled secretively, and Saelina returned it before continuing: “Regardless, the answer is: absolutely!”

She looked down the length of her blue velvet dress with gold embroidery and felt both exhilarated and anxious. Ezeas' mother had somehow managed to tame the mane of frizzy red curls into elegant ringlets, some of which fell from the hair-do down over her shoulders, and she had even applied some light makeup to her eyes and lips.

“And you even survived having your hair touched,” the older woman joked.

Saelina smiled sheepishly; she had been hesitant and tense during the whole affair.

Though she would argue, she had never looked this beautiful, it had been over a decade since she had donned such finery in the anticipation of a ball. There was an unease within her, the distinct knowledge that she would enter a place where she had precious few allies and quite possibly a throng of enemies waiting to pick apart everything about her.

Mortal politics, the most uncivilized battleground in existence, and you wish to enter it?

I've got to start somewhere, if I want to understand more about this place and its people.

If you ever wish to study vipers, I'd advise against jumping into their nests.

I ask that you limit your communications, tonight. It's important that I concentrate on the matter at hand.

So long as you refrain from stupidly endangering yourself.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

No promises. As you said: I'm entering a den of snakes.

Your casual awareness of your circumstances is little comfort.

She figured that was the best answer she could have hoped for and sighed, realizing she had remained quiet for a few seconds.

“Saelina,” the nyx woman said with an earnest tone, “do be careful. I've grown rather fond of having a young woman in the house again.”

The motherly words infused her and sparked her confidence. Ezeas' mother had donned a cream-colored dress with red needlework patterns. The black hair was styled in a simple braid bun, with a few strands hanging down to frame the beautiful face. Against the lady's marble complexion, Saelina looked nearly tanned, something she found fascinating. The pair of them left her room and made their way to the foyer.

Haylen waited at the entrance and expressed his approval in his usual reserved manner, but there was an uneasy air about him. Saelina knew that he was not happy with her plan, but he refrained from voicing his opposition, at least to her face. The couple left for the ball; even the Phu'rias, pulling their carriage, were adorned with ornate harnesses, and thin chains were hung over their tales, glinting through the feathers. Saelina waved goodbye from the doorway before returning inside the manor. She had time to kill and made her way to the Lady Harion's study; she visited the room often, enjoying the cozy atmosphere and losing herself in the many volumes of lore from all over the world. Tiyala even had quite a few books of romance, something Saelina had missed in her time as a poor beggar.

She took her time reading, waiting for the appropriate time. When a small clock in the study chimed for the eighth bell, she rose and made her way outside, where another carriage was pulling up.

“You look magnificent, Saelina,” Laelith exclaimed with enthusiasm as she descended the steps of the chaise.

“As do you. That dress is amazing,” Saelina admired, letting her eyes run over the warm red velvet with thick black borders.

“Oh, I can scarcely wait for my cousin to see you like this! Don't let him intimidate you; I'll be there if you need someone to back you up.”

“I might hold you to that,” she answered, only half-joking.

The drive to the Hastor manor was short but the conversation was light and pleasant; it helped subdue Saelina's fluttering nerves, and she eventually reached a state of calm.

“Let's not leave them waiting any longer,” Laelith said when they exited the wagon.

Inside the doors, they were greeted with statues of huge horse-like creatures prancing. They were slimmer than normal horses, their hooves cloven and their tales thin and whip-like. A dark pattern of crisscrossing lines adorned the back and sides. The eyes were directed forward like those of a predator. Saelina glanced at them and carried on. Laelith went ahead in front of her, and Saelina took the time to pretend to gawk at the interior. Servants walking around shot her strange stares, and she tried to look sufficiently ignoring.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The long hallway to the main banquet hall was lined with portraits and paintings of amazing cities, built among treetops, with intricate staircases and bridges spanning between the ornate buildings. If she were to guess, they were depicting Nyxal, the Forest Kingdom of legend.

Entering the hall, she tried to seem inconspicuous, even as the splendor of the massive room impressed her. Long silken banners in azure blue and gleaming silver hung wrapped around massive marble columns. An enormous crystal floated near the ceiling, surrounded by smaller fragments, all following the direction of the biggest as they lazily orbited it, casting warm yellow and orange light throughout the room.

A great space was cleared for the dancing couples; their movements were elegant yet unusually sensual to Saelina's eyes. Soft chairs and divans stood along the walls and in the corners, allowing for more intimate conversations. From atop the curved double staircase, she spotted a splendid feast on a long table in the adjoining room. There were members of every race present, though humans and fae were a definite minority.

As she walked down the steps, she saw a finely dressed nyx in blue and silver come towards her with fast steps. His demeanor was one of disapproval and offense. He came to stand in front of her, clasping his hands behind his back as he eyed her skeptically. Was every nyx so militant in their posture?

“So you're the dragon-bonded ward of house Sethaernan? Am I to assume your tardiness is caused by a lack of manners or do you struggle to tell time?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Ezeas as he noticed her; his face contorted in dismay, and he started walking towards where she stood. Rather than wait for his arrival she focused on the man in front of her. She shifted nervously, focusing on summoning a subtle blush to her face.

“I apologize, my lord. I'm afraid the idea of facing the splendor of your estate and your esteemed family left me in...quite a state.”

She gave a nervous laugh, taking note as Ivál's features softened, slightly.

“My Lord Hastor. I'm ashamed to confess that I changed my apparel three times. My hair and make-up was redone twice, I was so worried about making a proper impression.”

“Surely, you needn't have gone to such lengths,” the owner commented dryly, though notably less irritated.

Ezeas had reached them; he was wearing a dark blue coat and black breeches with high black boots. Gold buttons gleamed in the abundance of light, and a few medals were hung on his chest. His hair was ruffled, though it carried more purpose to its unruliness than usual. His expression seemed caught between his dissatisfaction at seeing her and his reluctance to cause a scene in front of their host. She took the chance to step next to him with a smile of admiration.

“My generous benefactors have regaled me with tales of your magnificent estate. Now, that I see it in person, I owe you the honesty of admitting that I do not regret the time spent on my appearance.”

She gestured elegantly towards the hallway from which she had come.

“I was near rendered speechless when I noticed the Bavilla Steeds, poised at your entrance. I saw their likeness in Laladre, though the royal palace display does not do them the same justice.”

The mention of the statues seemed to pique Ivál's interest.

“You're familiar with the sculptures?”

“Only the history behind their appearance, my lord. Unfortunately, though I've longed to learn more, my parents rarely allowed me to attend the royal court.”

The man pursed his lips. Ezeas observed the exchange between them, his expression one of curiosity and dubiety.

“I should inform you that Islasa does not have nobility, I am not your 'lord'.”

Saelina raised her hands to her mouth, eyes wide in horror.

“Forgive me, sir. Please believe me when I say I meant no disrespect. Your home, your possessions, your very air was such that I instinctively thought you someone of the highest station.”

Ezeas shot her an incredulous look, but Ivál raised a hand, calmly.

“Please, don't trouble yourself. I am flattered at the confusion. If you have the interest, I would be glad to show you some of the artwork adorning my halls?”

Saelina let a huge grin break forth on her face.

“Oh sir, how you honor me. I have not been treated so warmly by human nobility, as I've been among your people.”

The man was now thoroughly enjoying the attention she lavished upon him, and he turned towards Ezeas, with a stern expression.

“Pray, tell me why you would abandon your charge to make her way here, unattended?”

Before Ezeas could speak, Saelina answered.

“Oh, please, Lo- Sir Ivál, do not blame my excellent host. He was insistent on accompanying me, but for my protests. I felt that I could not in good conscience keep him from arriving in a timely manner. He knows that if he had persisted, it would simply have added to my worries.”

For a moment, the owner said nothing; then he seemed to accept the answer.

“I suppose it's..commendable that young Sethaernan had the wherewithal to be concerned for your feelings. It's not a trait I've often heard mentioned.”

“It is a side of mine I rarely publicize,” Ezeas answered in a guarded tone.

“And rightly so,” Ivál agreed.

Saelina boldly wrapped her arm around Ezeas' and smiled sweetly at their host, who returned it hesitantly. Her companion stiffened but did not disentangle himself from her.

“Rest assured, sir. Ezeas has been the perfect gentleman since my arrival here.”

“In that case, I'm sure he would have no objection in allowing me to show you the gallery, knowing you have such a keen interest.”

Once again, Saelina played the overwhelmed commoner.

“Oh, but I could not intrude upon your time at such an event as this. Perhaps we could arrange the viewing for another visit?”

Ivál sighed.

“Your forbearance does you credit. I will talk to your ward about arranging another visit, your escort is of course invited as well,” he said, giving Ezeas a nod before leaving them.

She could hear Ezeas breathe in, getting ready to speak, and she quickly cut him off.

“Take me to the gardens, a remote spot. We'll talk, there.”