From the corner of her vision, Penelope could see Princess Ivy’s friends retreating, visibly distancing themselves from her.

Penelope ignored it, allowing Steph to guide her to a quiet corner of the room, eyes following their every step.

“Quite the entrance,” Penelope murmured, at a loss for what to say, feeling flustered by the intensity of Steph’s gaze. He released her arm, brushing his hand down her wrist as he lifted her hand between them, her gloved fingers still clasping the honeybelle.

“I could say the same,” he replied with a smile. “I wanted to meet you as you arrived, however I was... waylaid.” Steph’s smile twisted for a moment as he glanced away. Penelope raised her eyes in question but he shook his head. “Nothing to worry about.”

Penelope frowned. “Still keeping secrets?” She hadn’t meant to sound so sharp, but she felt all the bitterness of the past weeks resurfacing.

“I—” Steph looked stricken, conflicted, as he pursed his lips. “My brother and I have been arguing. It’s been... difficult for me. It’s not... not a secret. It’s just...”

“I’m sorry, that isn’t my business, I shouldn’t have—”

“I don’t want to keep secrets from you, Penelope. I never did, I’m sorry.”

Penelope swallowed past the lump forming in her throat, aware of their audience and the crowd once more trying to surreptitiously eavesdrop on their hushed conversation.

Before Penelope could reply, an attendant with a gilded scroll strode into the room. The crowd fell silent as the attendant cleared their throat.

“Welcome, Scions of Royal and Noble Houses. House Grimwood is honoured by your presence tonight. It is my utmost pleasure to announce the commencement of the Dark Moon Ball.”

The room filled with applause and excited murmurs rippled through the room.

“Please gather here. When directed, please step forward and you will be announced into the ball.”

The attendant began to unfurl the scroll as the drapes were drawn back, creating a passage through the curtain just wide enough for two to stand abreast. Penelope moved forward with the crowd, craning her neck to at last catch a glimpse of the ballroom beyond.

Penelope had never seen so grand a room, and she felt momentarily breathless with awe. A sweeping staircase of gold and black marble led down into the chamber, already filled with guests twirling to the strum of harps. Banquet tables laden with delicacies lined each side of the long hall.

Ornate crucibles of silver fire shone from arched alcoves set into the stone walls and garlands of black blossoms spilled from golden vines twining the intricate railings of the upper balconies. Butterflies flittered amongst the blooms, shedding golden sparkles that fell like snowdrift, vanishing before they reached the smooth obsidian floor.

Suspended from the ceiling far above were long sheets of rippling silk, luminous and twisting like flares of the aurora in vibrant flashes of greens, blues, and purples. Hundreds, thousands, of silver crystals clung to the fabric, glowing like stars as the ribbons writhed like snakes.

Along the far wall was a raised platform on which stood two bejewelled thrones occupied by the King and Queen of Grimwood. Either side of them stood their sons, six princes from oldest to youngest, dressed in suits much like Steph’s. Above them hung an enormous green and bronze banner featuring the crossed club emblem of Grimwood.

Penelope glanced over her shoulder at Steph. “Aren’t you... Shouldn’t you be standing there with them?” she whispered. Steph offered a roguish grin and shrugged.

“I’d rather be here,” he whispered in her ear. The tickle of his breath sent shivers down her spine.

When the harp song came to an end, the attendant beckoned the nearest scion to step forward. From just beyond the curtain, the twin harmonies of conch horns resounded. The ballroom quieted as all faces turned towards the drapes, and a speaker called, “Presenting, the esteemed Deirdre, Third Scion of Noble House Hollycouth!”

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A woman dressed in a gown of autumnal mauves with golden embroidered leaves strode forward. She wore a delicate mask detailed with curling vines, matching the etchings of the metal of her left leg and the slim cane held in her gloved hand.

Penelope caught a glimpse of Deirdre’s wide smile as she moved to the staircase. The gold-tipped heels of her shoes clipped across the marble as she descended, the train of her gown melting behind her with the sound of rustling leaves as she entered the ball.

Princess Ivy pushed her way to the front of the crowd, sneering back at Penelope and Steph before her name was announced to the ringing zeal of conch shells.

She strode out of the room, head held high, and stalked down the staircase as though she were Queen of all of Edenwood Valley. Penelope scoffed under her breath and Steph snorted.

As the next scion was called forward, and the next, applause ringing from the audience with each name, Penelope scanned the crowd and froze. There, standing near the middle of the ballroom, were her mother and father, and a girl who must be her sister.

Penelope sucked in a ragged breath, blinking away sudden tears. Though she hadn’t seen her parents since she was five, there was no mistaking them. Her father’s dark braids and beard had begun to silver with age, but his smile was exactly the same.

Clarity stood smiling up at him from his side. She was the very picture of him, sharing the same gleaming dark skin and broad cheeks. Clarity’s braids were longer, wound into a regal twist before falling to her waist, and threaded with shining gems. They both exuded a sense of ease as Clarity giggled at something he had whispered in her ear. Penelope was hit with a wave of longing so fierce she feared she might drown in it.

Penelope’s mother stood beside them wearing an indulgent smile. Her dark hair fell in a smooth, raven waterfall. Her lips were painted a rich velvet purple which augmented the violet of her eyes. Eyes that Clarity shared, the colour of the Syvensia potion and mark of a Starwood seer.

Her mother’s fair skin glowed as if moonlit, and her cheeks had sharpened with age. She was the embodiment of royal grace, even as she winked at Clarity’s playful enthusiasm.

Standing all together dressed in the silver-trimmed blues of Starwood House, adorned in Starwood jewels, they appeared the perfect picture of family. Penelope couldn’t help but wonder if there was any space for her amongst them.

“Hey, hey, are you alright?” Steph drew Penelope back from the dwindling cluster of waiting scions with a gentle hand on her arm. She drew a gulping breath as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Penelope was grateful no one was looking their way anymore, far too enthralled by the sights of the ballroom beyond the curtain and eager for their turn to enter.

Steph brushed her tears away as Penelope fought to stem her emotions.

“It’s— my parents, and—” Penelope sobbed quietly against Steph’s chest as he wrapped his arm around her and drew her further into the shadows of the room, away from the eyes of the crowd below. “It’s been so long—”

“It’s okay, it’ll be alright,” Steph murmured in her ear as she fought back her tears. Penelope nodded, though her mind was filled with a roaring mist that made it difficult to think, to focus, through the panic. She allowed herself to be comforted by the smooth circles of Steph’s hand across her back.

“I’m still pretty mad at you, you know,” Penelope grumbled as she sniffled, but leaned into the warmth of his embrace, carefully so as not to crush her flowers.

Steph chuckled, a breathy nervous sound. “I know, I— I understand. I’m sorry.”

Penelope lifted her head to see there were only a half dozen others remaining in the room. Withdrawing a handkerchief, she hurriedly dabbed at her eyes and cheeks, checking her face in a mirror on the nearby wall.

“You look beautiful,” Steph smiled. Penelope’s smile felt weak in return. Penelope’s heart pounded as the numbers in the room dwindled, one by one.

“You don’t have to go through there, if you don’t want to,” Steph murmured as they inched closer to the attendant with the scroll.

Only three names left. Only two.

“You did promise you would steal me away to the kitchens,” Penelope with a panicked giggle.

“I think I could do one even better than the kitchens, actually.”

Penelope turned to meet Steph’s eyes, gentle and earnest.

“I—”

“Your Highness?” The attendant with the scroll motioned Penelope forward. She and Steph were the only ones remaining in the lounge.

Beyond the drapes, the lights of the ballroom were suddenly too bright, the applause of the crowd too loud, the ringing song of conch horns overwhelming. The expectant atmosphere of the crowd made her stomach churn. Penelope shrank back and clutched Steph’s arm.

“Actually,” he spoke smoothly, “we have other plans for just now. If you’ll excuse us.”

Steph stepped towards the door she had entered through and held out his hand while the attendant spluttered. Penelope glanced back and forth between Steph and the curtain. His warm smile let her know that whatever she chose, he would understand. He was on her side.

Penelope reached out and clasped Steph’s hand. With a wide grin, he guided her back out the door to the balcony landing of the entrance hall. Penelope stifled gleeful giggles as he lead her across the balcony towards the other side.