As Aviana was escorted through the silent halls of the castle, an eerie stillness enveloped her. The guards formed an impenetrable barrier around her, their armoured presence a stark reminder of her isolation. The rhythmic clanking of their armour blended with the faint echoes of her own footsteps, amplifying the sense of solitude that gnawed at her heart. Her fingers clenched tightly around the crumpled piece of parchment; the invitation seemed so innocent, which was why she had been abruptly torn away from the world she knew.

Passing through the dimly lit corridors, Aviana couldn't help but notice the opulent tapestries adorning the walls. Once vibrant and alive with mythical creatures and heroic tales, they now seemed faded and forgotten, mirroring her own feelings of displacement within these hallowed halls. The air carried a faint scent of floral arrangements, their fragrant petals providing a temporary reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere. The distant whinnying of horses mingled with the hushed whispers of servants going about their duties, their presence a mere shadow in Aviana's peripheral vision.

As they ventured deeper into the labyrinthine castle, the silence was broken by distant laughter reverberating through the stone walls. Aviana's heart skipped a beat, a flicker of hope igniting within her. Laughter was a sound she had not heard in what felt like an eternity. It reminded her of the warmth and camaraderie she had once known, a stark contrast to the cold detachment she now experienced. Yet, before she could fully embrace the glimmer of comfort, her momentary distraction led her to collide with the Captain, who had abruptly come to a halt. The band of soldiers, like silent sentinels, mirrored his motion, halting in perfect unison. Aviana's heart raced, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar surroundings, realizing that she had inadvertently stepped out of sync with their synchronized movement. At that moment, she felt the weight of her isolation and the gravity of the situation that had befallen her.

A shroud of uncertainty and trepidation settled over Aviana as she stood alone amidst the immovable figures surrounding her. The castle's walls seemed to close in, suffocating her with their oppressive grandeur. She yearned for a glimmer of familiarity, for a friendly face or a comforting voice to guide her through the labyrinthine corridors of her new reality.

"You will be residing here," the Captain declared, stepping aside to reveal the open door of Aviana's new abode. The room loomed before her, its grandeur juxtaposed with the heaviness in the air. The walls were adorned with faded tapestries depicting long-forgotten battles and heroic deeds, their colours muted by time. The flickering light from the torches cast dancing shadows, lending an air of mystery to the space.

Aviana's eyes flicked from the Captain to the room, a mix of trepidation and curiosity swirling within her. The sternness in his gaze, coupled with the coldness of his voice, sent a shiver down her spine. Clearly, he had no intention of making her feel welcome in this foreign domain.

As the Captain's words echoed in the empty hallway, silence enveloped them. It seemed time stood still, the weight of isolation pressing on Aviana's shoulders. The absence of any other voices or footsteps only heightened her sense of being an outsider, an intruder in this closed-off realm. Aviana nodded, suppressing any thoughts of resistance, consenting to the Captain's instructions. Engaging in a futile battle would only lead to further despair. However, a glimmer of hope flickered within her as she mustered the courage to voice her concern about her attire.

"My clothes..." Her voice quivered with apprehension, barely audible amidst the vastness of the corridor. She swallowed hard, mustering the strength to speak up. "I can't wear this if I am to perform in it."

The Captain's response was curt and dismissive, devoid of any empathy or understanding. "All that you need has been made available to you," he repeated, his words hinting finality. With an air of authority, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Aviana alone in the company of a solitary soldier stationed by her door.

With a heavy heart and eyes brimming with unshed tears, Aviana dared to look up at the guard one last time, but he was staring at the wall opposite, refusing to meet her gaze. Entering the room, she gently closed the door. The sound of the door closing behind her echoed in the room, amplifying the hollowness she felt inside. She was now truly alone, left to navigate the unfamiliar territory that had become her confinement.

Taking a deep breath, Aviana finally allowed herself to absorb her surroundings. The room, though modest by palace standards, had an undeniable charm. The sturdy stone walls provided a sense of security and insulation from the outside world. The rough texture of the stone hinted at the castle's age, its weathered appearance serving as a silent witness to centuries of history.

A simple tapestry adorned one wall, its intricate nature symbols bringing a touch of colour and beauty to the otherwise plain room. Aviana found herself drawn to the tapestry, wondering who had crafted it and what stories it held within its delicate threads. If this was considered the standard decoration for servant quarters, she could only imagine the grandeur that awaited her in the rest of the castle. The room's focal point was a large window overlooking the sprawling palace gardens. Heavy fabric curtains framed the window, allowing soft rays of sunlight to filter into the room, casting a warm and inviting glow. Aviana's gaze lingered on the window, its view offering a glimpse of the outside world, tempting her with thoughts of escape. Yet, she knew now was not the time to entertain such notions. The guards were surely vigilant, ready to thwart any attempt at freedom.

Turning her attention to the writing desk near the window, Aviana noticed parchment, quills, and ink neatly arranged. She couldn't help but feel a pang of regret at the thought of using them. The lie she had told the guards about her inability to write bound her to this charade. She would need to find other ways to communicate her thoughts and feelings to preserve her own sense of agency in this confining environment. Aviana hugged herself tightly, feeling the chill in the air, her delicate performance dress offering little protection against the drafty room. Her eyes fell upon the single, narrow bed against the wall, adorned with a simple straw mattress and a woollen blanket. Though unassuming, the bedding provided a measure of comfort and warmth. She ran her fingertips over the soft wool, acknowledging that even this meagre offering surpassed the accommodations she had known before. Beside the bed stood a small wooden nightstand adorned with a plain candlestick.

A worn, wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed, its unadorned exterior revealing its years of use. As Aviana lifted the lid, her breath caught in her throat. Instead of being empty, the chest held an assortment of dresses and garments. Their presence struck her as unsettling—fresh reminders that every aspect of her stay had been orchestrated. How long had they been preparing for her arrival? The thought left a tingling unease crawling up her spine, the sense of being carefully manipulated hanging in the air. Aviana's fingers delicately brushed over the fabrics, feeling their texture and weight. It was clear that every item had been chosen with care, tailored to her needs as a performer. But behind the facade of hospitality, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was merely a pawn in a larger game, her fate already predetermined.

Aviana's slender fingers traced the delicate stitching on the linen dress, marvelling at the craftsmanship that had gone into its creation. The heavy fabric exuded a sense of durability, a stark contrast to the ethereal performance dress she had worn earlier. Its beautiful shade of blue reminded her of the wildflowers that bloomed in vibrant hues during the spring, a burst of colour amidst the realm's lush landscapes.

Standing before the tall mirror in her room, Aviana couldn't help but take note of her own striking figure. She towered over most girls in this part of the realm, her lithe form conveying a sense of grace and fluidity. Her bone structure, delicate yet strong, seemed to mirror that of a bird, giving her the lightness and agility necessary for her captivating dance performances. It was a gift that had garnered her admiration and applause from audiences across the realm, but it had also brought unwanted attention to the current predicament she found herself in.

As she gazed at her reflection, she became acutely aware of how much skin she had exposed in her previous dress. The sheer fabrics had left little to the imagination, barely covering the bare minimum of decency. Aviana knew she couldn't remain in such attire, especially in the confines of the palace. She needed to present herself in a more modest and appropriate manner.

Deciding to cleanse herself before donning the new dress, Aviana searched her room for a means to wash away the remnants of the day's travel. Her eyes landed on a bucket in the corner, but she quickly realized there was nowhere to fill it. The realization made her realize she would need to seek assistance.

Summoning her courage, Aviana opened the door and was met with the imposing presence of the soldier standing at attention outside her room. His armour gleamed in the soft light, an embodiment of strength and authority. Aviana held the empty bucket in her hands. He grunted in acknowledgment of her arrival. Aviana's heart raced, her palms growing clammy as she mustered the courage to speak. Her tongue felt dry, and she nervously licked her lips before finding her voice.

"I... I wanted to wash my face," she stammered, her words barely audible. The guard met her gaze briefly before returning to his watchful stance. He offered no verbal response, leaving her to interpret his silence.

Feeling a surge of determination, Aviana continued, gesturing to the bucket in her hand. "Is there somewhere I can fill this with water?" Her eyes followed his pointing finger as he directed her down the hall. Grateful for his nonverbal guidance, she nodded in understanding, her door still ajar.

However, as she turned to leave, she noticed that the guard made no move to accompany her. Confusion furrowed her brow, and she hesitated before voicing her question. "You aren't coming with me?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

A flicker of amusement danced in the guard's eyes as he looked down at her. "Do I have to?" The unexpected edge of humour took Aviana aback in his tone. She quickly backtracked, realizing she might have revealed too much of her predicament. It was unwise to remind him of her captive status, even if it was painfully evident.

"Oh, no, it's fine," she responded, her words carefully chosen. "I can manage on my own." She forced a smile, hoping to mask her apprehension. "Thank you."

With a reassuring nod, the guard confirmed his role. "I can watch you from here," he assured her, his voice reassuring. Aviana looked up at him, acknowledging his presence before continuing down the hall. She could feel his eyes on her back, an ever-present reminder of her restricted freedom.

Aviana swiftly completed her task, collecting water from the designated area before retracing her steps to her room. As she passed the guard on her return, she paused, feeling an inexplicable urge to connect with him more personally.

"I am Aviana," she introduced herself, hoping to break the tension. However, the guard merely grunted in response, his gaze fixed on the wall opposite her room. His rigid posture belied a subtle hint of relaxation. Clearly, he was prepared to maintain his vigil for an extended period. Taking his lack of engagement as a signal to withdraw, Aviana offered a small smile before disappearing back into her room. She pushed the door harder than necessary, ensuring it closed securely behind her.

Aviana stood before the mirror, admiring how the dress gracefully draped over her slender frame. The rich blue colour brought out the warmth in her eyes, and she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of confidence despite her captive state. The intricate stitching and attention to detail made it clear that this dress was crafted with care and skill.

She adjusted the laces at her sides, cinching them tighter to achieve a better fit. Doing all that she could to adjust the fabric, the dress still had a slight looseness to it, the length of the dress just a little too short for her taller-than-average frame. Aviana was grateful for this small blessing, knowing that she wouldn't risk tripping over the skirts during her daring escape. As she glanced at her reflection one final time, she found a sense of determination taking hold. This dress would not confine her; it would become her ally in the face of adversity.

Leaving the bucket of water by the door, knowing that a watchful guard awaited her exit, Aviana turned her attention to the window. The gentle breeze that wafted through the room, carrying the scent of nearby flowers, felt less chilling against the thicker fabric of her new attire. Her hands found their way to the window ledge, and with a mix of trepidation and excitement, she leaned out as far as she dared.

The view of the palace garden unfolded before her, vibrant and alive with an array of colours. But Aviana's focus was elsewhere. Her gaze darted from one direction to another, scanning for any possible means of escape. Below her, the ground seemed impossibly distant, but she spotted a nearby tree with branches extending towards her window. A flicker of hope ignited within her as she contemplated the daring possibility of reaching that tree and freedom beyond. Her heart pounded in her chest as she considered the risks and challenges that lay ahead. The plan forming in her mind was audacious, yet she couldn't help but feel a surge of determination. Aviana knew that her fate was not sealed within these walls. She would find a way to overcome the obstacles, relying on her agility and resourcefulness.

As Aviana perched precariously on the window ledge, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination, a voice shattered the silence, causing her to freeze in her tracks. She glanced downward, her eyes meeting those of a guard who had spotted her daring escapade. Swiftly, she composed herself and flashed a bright, innocent smile, waving at the guard with feigned nonchalance.

"Beautiful garden, isn't it?" she called out, her voice filled with an air of innocence and admiration, attempting to divert his attention from her precarious position.

The guard's stern gaze remained fixed upon her, his eyes wary and watchful. "Just be mindful you don't fall, Miss," he cautioned, pointing towards the narrow ledge that had served as her temporary perch. "It would be quite painful."

Aviana's smile wavered slightly, and she nodded in acknowledgement. With a final glance at the garden she had hoped would offer her freedom, she slowly withdrew back into her room, her heart sinking with the knowledge that the window would not be a viable means of escape—at least not yet. She would need to bide her time and wait for a more opportune moment.

Turning her attention to her room, her eyes settled on the single candle on the nightstand, and a glimmer of hope ignited within her. She remembered how Ravus had conjured his presence through the power of a flame as if harnessing its magic to transport himself to her side. Could she, too, utilize the flame's power to transport herself elsewhere?

Determined to explore this newfound possibility, Aviana settled herself heavily on the bed, her fingers curling around the candlestick. She wiped her clammy palms against the fabric of her dress, seeking solace in its touch. With a flicker of anticipation, she pulled the tinderbox closer, her fingers trembling slightly as she fumbled with the flint. A surge of relief washed over her as the spark caught, igniting the wick and casting a warm glow in the room. A small cheer escaped her lips, her voice carrying a hint of triumph at this seemingly simple achievement—a feat that had felt monumental only moments before.

With the flame dancing before her, Aviana's mind raced with endless possibilities. She pondered the night she had willed Ravus' vision into the flame. Would it work for her as well? Could she use this flickering flame as a conduit to transport herself to a place beyond these confining walls?

Her doubts lingered at the edges of her mind, threatening to erode her confidence. But she pushed them aside, refusing to let them consume her. With the candle casting a warm glow upon her determined face, Aviana took a deep breath and let out a slow breath to steady herself. She closed her eyes, her heart pounding in anticipation, waiting for the unknown to unfold. The room fell silent, and a sense of anticipation hung in the air as if the very fabric of reality held its breath, ready to yield to her desires.

Aviana furrowed her brow, lost in her thoughts, trying to grasp the secret behind her previous encounter with Ravus through the flame. It had been an unintentional connection, a moment of vulnerability and flickering light that had brought him to her side. She couldn't help but blush at the memory, her cheeks tinged with a delicate shade of pink. With an instinctive gesture, she brushed her hair behind her ear as if attempting to brush away the vivid recollection.

The memory of Ravus had been etched in her mind since their unexpected meeting. His presence, the warmth in his eyes, had sparked a curiosity and longing within her. Perhaps, she pondered, if she couldn't find an escape through the flame for herself, maybe she could use it to reach out to Ravus. He had proven to be her solace, her connection to a world beyond these suffocating walls. Could he be the one to take her away from this place?

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"Maybe..." she whispered to herself, her voice filled with uncertainty. Aviana opened her eyes to summon that familiar warmth, that ember of hope that had stirred within her during their encounters. She allowed herself to sink into a calm rhythm of breathing, finding solace in her chest's steady rise and fall. As her heart settled into a steady beat, she focused her gaze on the flame dancing before her.

The flame flickered and danced, its golden hues mesmerizing. Aviana's breath hitched, hope mingling with anticipation as she allowed herself to be enveloped in its glow. She delved deeper, peering into the core of the fire, seeking the ethereal visions that had once materialized before her. Shadows seemed to move within the fiery depths, teasing her with their fleeting presence.

Just as she felt herself on the verge of a breakthrough, a sudden series of urgent knocks reverberated through the room, abruptly shattering the moment. Startled, Aviana's eyes snapped open, her heart racing with a mix of disappointment and unease. The interruption had shattered the delicate connection she had hoped to establish. With a sigh, she rose from her seated position, a blend of frustration and curiosity lingering in her gaze. Whoever stood beyond her door had arrived at the most inopportune moment, disrupting her fragile attempts at unlocking the flame's hidden power. Aviana braced herself, ready to face the unexpected visitor, her mind still filled with questions and a burning desire to escape the confines of her gilded cage.

Startled, Aviana's heart skipped a beat as she turned to face the unexpected visitor in the doorway. Instead of the familiar faces she had anticipated, her eyes met the sight of a girl with vibrant purple hair bundled messily atop her head in a carefree bun. A playful grin adorned her face, and she wore a dress that matched Aviana's in style but boasted a brilliant shade of blue that suited her perfectly. Without waiting for an invitation, the girl breezed into Aviana's quarters, effortlessly closing the door behind her.

"You're here to perform as well?" the girl inquired, her gaze sweeping across the room before locking onto Aviana. Aviana nodded, her eyes scanning the empty room for any sign of her guard, perplexed by this unexpected breach in security. Had there been a change in personnel? Her thoughts wandered to the window, attempting to gauge the passing of time based on the sun's shifting hues, a lesson Kaelan imparted. How long had she been lost in her contemplation of the flame? Moments felt like hours, yet the uncertainty gnawed at her.

"I'm a dancer," Aviana replied, extinguishing the candle swiftly. It would be wasteful to let it burn out.

"I'm an acrobat," the girl declared proudly. "My brother and I. They've crammed us into a shared room, making everything feel smaller." Aviana could only offer a dumbfounded nod, her mind still reeling from the unexpected intrusion. The girl beamed with infectious energy. "I'm Isolde, here to show you around."

A glimmer of relief washed over Aviana as she realized she wasn't entirely alone in this foreign place. Isolde's arrival brought a sense of companionship and the prospect of exploring the palace grounds beyond the confines of her room. Perhaps there was a chance to unravel the mysteries hidden within these opulent walls.

Aviana hesitated, her eyes flickering toward the closed door. "But I was specifically instructed not to wander," she voiced her concerns, a hint of caution lacing her words.

Isolde chuckled, dismissing the warning with a wave of her hand. "Oh, they only meant outside of our little section," she clarified nonchalantly as if the true meaning behind the Captain's words was nothing more than a matter of practicality. "The palace is bustling with preparations for the event, and it's just better for us to stay out of their way. Besides," she added, pointing to her own vibrant purple features, "some of us tend to make the locals nervous." Aviana's gaze shifted to Isolde's eyes, shimmering with an inner purple hue that matched her hair. While Aviana couldn't be certain, she wondered if the girl's skin held a subtle tinge of purple as well or if it was merely a play of light in the room.

Aviana found herself at a loss for words once again, unsure how to respond to Isolde's easy dismissal of their predicament. Was she delusional, or had she misunderstood the gravity of their situation? With a sigh, Aviana introduced herself, her voice tinged with weariness. "I'm Aviana. This is my first time performing for the royals."

Isolde's knowing smile confirmed Aviana's suspicion. "I thought as much when Quillen told me to come fetch you," she revealed. Aviana's mind flashed back to the encounter with the Captain in the marketplace, finding the choice of his name rather fitting. "He said you would be waiting here." Isolde glanced around the room, her eyes widening in genuine surprise. "I think your room might be nicer than mine. Come on, I'll show you where the main attractions are." Before Aviana could offer any resistance, Isolde firmly took her hand and led her out of the room. The guard stationed nearby made no move to stop them, and a small smile tugged at Aviana's lips as Isolde playfully saluted the guard as they passed.

As they ventured into the bustling corridors of the palace, Aviana felt a mix of trepidation and curiosity swirling within her. Isolde's lively spirit and unwavering confidence acted as a counterbalance to Aviana's own doubts and reservations. In Isolde, she saw a glimmer of hope, a companion who would guide her through the enigmatic paths of the palace and share in the journey that lay ahead. Aviana tightened her grip on Isolde's hand.

Aviana listened intently to Isolde's explanations, her steps matching the rhythm of their conversation. The mention of the guards furrowed her brow, and she couldn't resist voicing her curiosity. "So, the guard...," she began, her voice tinged with intrigue, "We all have guards assigned to us?"

Isolde nodded a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh yes, it's a precautionary measure when they let complete strangers inside the palace walls," she explained with a wave of her hand. "But you got Grunt, so you'll be fine."

Aviana couldn't help but protest. "That cannot be his actual name," she insisted, expecting Isolde to agree.

To her surprise, Isolde shrugged nonchalantly. "No one knows his name. He hardly speaks," she revealed, echoing Aviana's own experience with the stoic guard. "So, we call him Grunt, and he's never corrected us. But he's a nice one. Some of the guards take their job a little too seriously. We do have a curfew," Isolde continued, her voice lowering slightly. "But the guards who have done this duty before know it's a bit flexible, especially with a troupe as large as ours. We need to be able to communicate with one another, after all."

Aviana nodded, though her understanding of the situation was still somewhat hazy. "I don't have a troupe," she confessed, a touch of wistfulness in her voice. "Just Kaelan, my musician."

Isolde smirked, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "That's probably why Quillen gave you Grunt. He always gives off big brother vibes," she remarked, her words laced with a hint of amusement. Aviana wasn't entirely convinced, but she kept her reservations to herself as they continued their small tour of the palace facilities.

As they walked, Isolde pointed down a hallway, offering comments and snippets of information along the way. Guards stood at different points, some with rigid postures and watchful eyes like Grunt, while others appeared more relaxed, their expressions tinged with boredom. Doors lined the hallway, some open, revealing glimpses of activity inside, while others remained closed. Aviana couldn't help but notice that none of the people behind those doors appeared as trapped as she felt.

"You'll probably get some neighbours soon," Isolde assured her, her voice filled with a sense of anticipation. They continued down the corridor, the laughter that had previously caught Aviana's attention growing louder with each step. It was a contagious sound, laced with warmth and camaraderie, and Aviana found herself drawn toward it, her curiosity growing with every passing moment.

The doors to The Hall stood wide open, inviting Aviana and Isolde into its bustling interior. Isolde's smile illuminated her face as she gestured for Aviana to enter. Stepping over the threshold, Aviana found herself immersed in a vibrant atmosphere. The hall stretched out before her, a grand space with a lofty ceiling adorned with sturdy wooden beams and walls made of rough-hewn stone. Unlike the lavish tapestries that adorned the walls of her room, there were none to be found here. Instead, the focus was on functionality. The tables and chairs were simple and unadorned, designed to accommodate as many people as possible for their meals. Linen tablecloths draped over the tables, while wooden trenchers were carefully placed before each seat, ready to hold the awaited hearty meals.

As Aviana let her eyes wander, she couldn't help but appreciate the charm of The Hall, even if it didn't meet the standards of luxury she had grown accustomed to. However, a sense of unease crept over her. The hall was dimly lit by flickering torches mounted on the walls, casting dancing shadows that seemed to conceal lurking danger. The small windows, positioned high up, offered little solace as escape routes. She couldn't help but think of Kaelan's cautious nature, the way he would strategically choose their seating to keep an eye on potential threats and ensure a swift retreat if needed. The palace's grandeur had not instilled the same level of suspicion in Aviana.

For her, The Hall held a welcoming familiarity. It exuded a warmth and rustic charm reminiscent of the cozy pubs she had sought refuge in during her travels. A large fireplace crackled and roared at one end of the hall, casting a comforting glow across the space. It served a dual purpose: providing heat and serving as a cooking station. Over the open flames, cauldrons and iron pots were suspended, filled with delectable soups and stews that filled the air with savoury aromas. The scents teased Aviana's senses, stirring her hunger and reminding her of the simple pleasures of a hearty meal.

The enticing aromas of freshly baked bread, savoury stews, and tantalizing spices filled the air, weaving together to create a mouthwatering symphony of scents. Aviana couldn't help but feel her stomach grumble, and she discreetly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand to hide her hunger. As she stepped further into The Hall, the lively chatter of the people filled the space, intermingling with the clinking of wooden plates and sporadic bursts of laughter. A cacophony enveloped Aviana, providing a sense of solace and reminding her that amidst her own predicament, these people seemed free and content. The atmosphere was almost festive, with Isolde leading her deeper into the bustling hall.

Navigating through the crowd, Isolde guided Aviana towards the opposite side of the hall. There, a long wooden counter stood, manned by bustling cooks and kitchen staff who tirelessly dished out the day's meal servings to the hungry servants. Isolde leaned in, her voice rising above the commotion. "There's a rotating menu for the main meal," she explained, but Aviana's attention wavered. A deep sense of guilt was replacing feelings of wonder and awe. Kaelan should be here by her side, sharing in this experience. He deserved to be a guest as much as anyone else. Aviana hoped fervently that wherever he was, he wasn't consumed by worry for her. She needed to find a way to send him a message to let him know that this invitation had an expiration date and her captivity was temporary.

Lost in her thoughts, Aviana followed Isolde's lead as she collected her food. Today's midday offering was a succulent roast beef with golden roasted potatoes. Aviana accepted a generous helping of each but declined the serving of plum pudding. She felt uncertain about consuming everything that had already been provided. Adjacent to the serving station, large barrels caught her eye.

Isolde's voice broke through her contemplation. "Water or ale?" she inquired.

Aviana paused for a moment, contemplating Kaelan's advice. He would have urged her to choose ale in an unfamiliar land, warning her of the potential dangers of water. However, they had consumed water without issue at the pub they had stayed in the previous night after Kaelan had thoroughly inspected it. Aviana reasoned that the royals likely had access to superior water compared to the small marketplace pub they had encountered. "Water," she replied, opting for the safer choice and trusting in the quality of the palace's provisions.

Once they had secured their meals, Aviana and Isolde found an empty spot at one of the tables. Aviana couldn't resist tearing into the warm, freshly baked bread, using it to soak up the delectable flavours on her plate before savouring each bite. The culinary delights seemed to come alive in her mouth, heightened by the vibrant atmosphere surrounding them. A contented grin spread across Aviana's face as she moved on to savouring the succulent meat. Isolde continued her lively commentary, introducing Aviana to the various performers sharing the hall with them.

"That's Crystal, the singer," Isolde whispered, leaning in closer. "Rumor has it she's got Siren blood, but personally, I'm not convinced. She's good, but not that good." Isolde shrugged, dismissing the fantastical notion. "And see those two over there? Tim and Thim, the magician brothers. Hard to miss, right?" Aviana nodded, silently trying to memorize all the names Isolde was throwing at her. "Oh, and that one over there is Meridith. Whatever you do, never call her Merry," Isolde warned, her words hurried. Aviana hadn't even considered using a nickname for anyone unless explicitly instructed otherwise. Kaelan is the exception, of course.

Just as Aviana was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the onslaught of names and descriptions, a man suddenly plopped down beside her, his mug of ale invading her personal space and perilously close to her plate. Without a word of introduction or apology, he reached across Aviana, snagging a piece of beef from Isolde's plate. Isolde seemed oblivious, engrossed in her narration of the various performers around them. Aviana couldn't help but notice the family resemblance between the man and Isolde. They both possessed the same striking purple features, the faint inner glow of their eyes more pronounced in the dim lighting of The Hall. The man caught Aviana's eye and cheekily winked at her, but she slapped his hand away before he could make another attempt at pilfering Isolde's food.

"I was so close," he lamented, grinning mischievously at his sister, taking advantage of the momentary distraction to snatch a piece of meat from her plate and devour it before Isolde could protest. "So, this is the new kid?"

"Not a kid," Isolde interjected, defending Aviana's honour. "This is Aviana. She's a dancer," she declared proudly, her voice filled with conviction that sent a surge of warmth to Aviana's cheeks.

"I'm Leon," he introduced himself, extending his hand towards Aviana, the same hand he had just cleaned by sucking on his fingertips. Aviana reluctantly shook his hand.

"Just arrived today," Aviana confirmed, sipping her water. However, before she could even set the mug down, Leon swiftly snatched it from her grasp and replaced it with his own mug of ale. Aviana's brows furrowed slightly. "Oh, I actually prefer the water," she remarked, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Trust me, you're going to need a drink," Leon declared, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Just as the words left his lips, a woman strode purposefully towards their table.

Isolde's voice was only just audible as she muttered one word. "Rosalind."

Unlike the jovial atmosphere that permeated the hall, she exuded an air of stern authority. Her features were sharply defined, framed by dark hair meticulously pulled back into a neat bun. As Rosalind approached, a hush fell over the surrounding crowd, their attention now captivated by the impending confrontation. Her sun-kissed complexion, tinged with the richness of honey, hinted at a life spent under the open sky, yet a certain grace and refinement set her apart from the common workers and labourers.

Without needing to be told, Aviana recognized her as a dancer in the traditional sense, the embodiment of a form she could only marvel at. While Aviana surrendered herself to the music Kaelan played, translating the melodies into ethereal movements that mesmerized and delighted onlookers, this woman possessed a body sculpted by rigorous training and discipline. Her lithe figure moved with an effortless grace, each step a seamless extension of the music that filled the hall. Underneath the fabric of Rosalind's dress, which appeared more supple and suitable for movement than Aviana's gown, the contours of well-honed muscles were discernible, a testament to the power and control required for intricate dance routines. Observing her, Aviana was entranced by the sheer beauty of her every motion, her limbs endowed with a natural length and fluidity, capable of reaching and extending with a grace and precision that seemed otherworldly.

In an instant, Rosalind's reach extended across the table, her grip tugging forcefully at the collar of Aviana's dress, compelling her to stand. Wide-eyed, Aviana felt dwarfed in the presence of this formidable dancer, her own stature reduced to that of a meek child. "You're the dancer?" the woman demanded, her voice carrying an air of authority that brooked no resistance. Aviana could only manage a nod, her mouth gone dry with a mingling of awe and trepidation. The woman's discerning gaze swept over Aviana, her grip releasing its hold.

Leon's reassuring hand on the small of her back prevented Aviana from collapsing back into her seat. Aviana felt a palpable sense of inferiority compared to the woman's impeccable posture; her spine naturally aligned to create an elongated silhouette. Rosalind seemed to possess an innate command of her space, surpassing the boundaries imposed by her social status. Aviana's voice wavered as she introduced herself, the weight of the encounter settling upon her. "I'm Aviana. I'm... I'm the dancer."

The woman regarded her with a mixture of scrutiny and calculation, her own stature radiating an air of confidence and experience. Aviana's reverence and apprehension intermingled, leaving her breathless in the presence of this formidable figure.

Rosalind's sneer deepened, her words dripping with condescension. "I am the dancer," she corrected Aviana, her tone laced with superiority. Understanding the underlying challenge in Rosalind's demeanour, Aviana refused to be drawn into a fight. "I'm sure you are," she replied calmly, maintaining her composure despite the tension in the air.

Rosalind continued, her voice filled with an air of entitlement. "I belong to the King's company." Aviana's eyes widened at the revelation. The King's company was renowned throughout the realm—a troupe of performers who travelled under the King's banner, commissioned, trained, and celebrated by him. Aviana had been fortunate enough to witness their captivating performances on one occasion, but she did not recognize Rosalind from that encounter. Nevertheless, how Rosalind carried herself, with an air of confidence and authority, left no room for doubt. "I alone have been selected from that company to perform at their events," Rosalind declared, her words laced with a hint of smugness.

Aviana realized that Rosalind expected a response, an acknowledgment of the honour bestowed upon her. "Such an amazing honour," Aviana offered swiftly, her words tinged with a touch of deference.

Rosalind nodded in acknowledgment, though a flicker of confusion briefly crossed her face. "Do not assume it means anything that you have been chosen," she warned, her voice laced with a subtle threat. "You will be the appetizer to my main event."

The crowd, who had been listening intently, erupted into murmurs of disbelief and astonishment. "I look forward to your performance," Aviana replied, projecting a sense of civility and poise. Aviana could sense their attention waning, the atmosphere deflating as the potential confrontation fizzled out. As the murmuring subsided, she addressed Rosalind with a measured tone. Rosalind cast one final assessing glance in Aviana's direction before turning away, her confident stride carrying her back into the bustling hall. Aviana watched her departure, her eyes tracing the fluid movements of Rosalind's legs and the subtle delineation of her controlled muscles beneath the soft fabric of her dress.

Taking a slow, steadying breath, Aviana settled back into her seat, her mind swirling with a mix of emotions.

Isolde's voice carried a tinge of regret as she addressed Aviana. "Rosalind has been the reigning solo dancer in the lineup for years," she confessed, her tone filled with empathy. "I should have warned you about her."

Leon chimed in, his words tinged with a hint of frustration. "You really should have," he said, his voice laced with an undercurrent of protectiveness.

He nudged the ale toward Aviana, who absentmindedly wrapped both hands around the mug, seeking comfort in its warmth. She took a deep swallow, the bitter liquid momentarily distracting her from the weight of the situation. Shaking her head, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, a gesture of defiance. "She has nothing to worry about. I'm just going to dance and get out of here," Aviana declared, her voice infused with determination.

Aviana's resolve wavered as she took another deep drink of the ale, unaware of the shared glance exchanged between the siblings on either side of her. As Aviana drowned her apprehension in the ale, she remained oblivious to the unspoken support and camaraderie building between her and the purple-haired duo.