Aneira wasn’t comfortable. They tugged at the hem of their suit in hopes that if they just found the right combination it would be comfortable.

“This looks good.” The tailor said. Inspecting Aneira in the suit to make sure it fit. “It certainly needs some modifications. It looks very tight on you.” Aneira nodded. The tailor reached to grab Aneira’s suit and they flinched back.

“Please refrain from touching.” Aneira said, the tailor stepped back.

“Oh. Okay.” The tailor said. The tailor picked up their notebook and made a few faces as they guessed at some modifications to make. “I’ll probably need to have you try this on a bit more than if I did a full inspection. That’s all right, right?”

“Yes, I suppose.” Aneira said.

“All right, perfect.” The tailor nodded. “I think I have everything ready on my end. You are free to go out and present or change.” Aneira stepped down from the stage and went into the change room to change back into their slightly more comfortable regal attire. Aneira found them missing their normal flats that they wore around the house. They certainly found themself missing their apron. But at least the tunic was very clean and soft. Once back in their normal clothes, Aneira folded up and neatly stacked their gala outfit and handed the nice bundle to the tailor.

“Oh, decided not to show everyone?” The tailor asked. Trying to make conversation but Aneira wasn’t interested.

“No thank you.” They said and went out where Bellaire stood begrudgingly on the side of the tailor’s study and Starkon sat on a couch waiting with a cold glass of what appeared to be chilled white wine. Roskva was sitting beside him, not consuming any alcohol, but talking excitedly.

“Gonna leave your outfit as a surprise?” Bellaire asked. “Shame, we really wanted to see it.” Aneira scowled, surprised by the long disappointed whine from Roskva.

“You aren’t going to show us!” She said with an exaggerated frown. Aneira clenched their jaw.

“I’m feeling a bit under the weather, I think I’m going to retire tonight.” Aneira said, Roskva’s jaw dropped.

“No wait! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad!” Roskva stood up and tried to stop Aneira but their retreat was already in full charge. Shutting the door to the hall behind them. Roskva sighed and turned around to the rest of the party.

“I’ll talk to them.” Bellaire said.

“No, allow me.” Starkon stood up and put his glass down.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Bellaire said. “I think they’d rather have a friendly face right now.”

“Is my face not a friendly one?” Starkon asked. “What are you so afraid of? Don’t you trust me?” Bellaire narrowed her eyes at him.

“You have been talking to them a lot. Maybe it’s worth letting him take a shot at it.” Roskva suggested. “It’s not like he wants to hurt her or anything.” Roskva laughed genuinely but Starkon and Bellaire watched each other closely.

“Exactly,” Starkon flashed his grin but Bellaire only saw the grimace of a predator. He left the room, following Aneira. Bellaire could only hope Aneira’s sense of self-preservation would override their need for secrecy.

“Bellaire, you spend a lot of time with Aneira.” Roskva sat down, shifting around awkwardly. “You know them. I mean. Somewhat, right?”

“What do you want to know?” Bellaire asked, walking over to the couch and sitting on the arm of it. “I’ll answer what I can.”

“Aneira DOES love me, right?” Roskva asked sheepishly.

“What?! Of course they do! They are bending over backwards to make sure this party is everything you could ever want. I can’t even tell you some of the surprises they’ve booked.” Bellaire said. Roskva smiled but it was weak.

“Can I confide something?” Roskva scooted closer and whispered. Bellaire nodded and leaned closer. “Sometimes, it feels like Aneira doesn’t love me and wishes I wasn’t around.” Bellaire clapped a hand over her mouth.

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“No! Oh no.” Bellaire shook her head. “I promise, all they talk about is you and how they want to make you happy. How badly they want to give you everything you want.”

“Really?” Roskva asked.

“Really.” Bellaire nodded. “I think they might not know how to show it.”

“You’re being completely honest with me, right?” Roskva asked suspiciously.

“Entirely, completely, a hundred percent honest.” Bellaire said. She quickly X’d over her heart. “Cross my heart honest.” Roskva laughed despite herself.

“All right, I’ll trust you.” Roskva said finally. She let out a long relieved sigh. “I’m glad Aneira has you. You’re a good friend.”

“Thanks.” Bellaire said. “Mind telling them that some time?” The two devolved into laughter.

Aneira stopped only when they got to their room. Where they collapsed onto the sofa. The guilt and shame put so much weight on them that they could no longer stay upright. They curled up and hid their face. Only for a knock on their door to interrupt them.

“Who is it?” Aneira asked, standing up and readjusting themself.

“Just me,” Starkon said as he opened the door.

“I would rather be alone.” Aneira said. “If it’s all the same to you.”

“I would be nicer to me if I were you.” Starkon said, shutting the door behind him.

“Dare I ask why?” Aneira asked, turning to face Starkon fully. “Because Roskva likes you? That’s a joke. Roskva’s young, she’ll meet a real suitor before long. Someone who actually treats her right and then you’ll be long forgotten.” Starkon’s face flushed in anger.

“No. I know your secret.” Starkon snapped. Aneira felt the air drop several degrees around them.

“Do you, now?” Aneira asked. Trying not to betray anything on their face. They held their hands together. “Pray tell.”

“There’s a story we tell. Of the prince being taken, killed, by the Do’laeth.” Starkon said, walking around the room. Inspecting the pieces that had been moved around by Aneira. “And while I believe that Roskva is truly the heir of the kingdom, you are nothing but a cuckoo bird.”

“You believe that I am, for lack of a better term, adopted?” Aneira asked.

“A Do’laeth, here to destroy the kingdom.” Starkon said. “Infiltrating Roskva’s family and taking everything for yourself.” Aneira stared in disbelief before betraying themself with a laugh.

“I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous.” They said. “I’ve done nothing but look out for the best interests of the people of this kingdom and especially Roskva.”

“And yet they suffer because of you.” Starkon said. There was silence as the words sunk in. “I think it would be best if you disappeared. Back to wherever you came from Do’laeth. Take your vile undead with you.” Starkon turned and left their rooms. Leaving Aneira to their own thoughts.

Roskva and Bellaire walked the halls, slowly making their way toward Aneira’s suite.

“Have you been to a gala before?” Roskva asked. Bellaire took a long breath as she thought back.

“I think so.” Bellaire said, still thinking. “I remember parties. Grand parties, with lights. So many, from every direction. Colors. Every color of the rainbow all dancing together in a dazzling burst. It was so warm, stiflingly warm. My father would bow to me and lift me into his arms and dance around with me. Both of us laughing. Like it would never end.”

“That’s beautiful.” Roskva said. “I wish I could remember my father. I know what looked like. But I don’t remember anything else about him.” Roskva looked down at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Bellaire said. Feeling that was expected of her.

“At least you have your memories. Your parents are never really gone when you have them.” Roskva shrugged. Bellaire clenched her jaw, holding back her tears.

“Your family is here too. In every part of this palace. More family than you ever knew, and they’re here. Waiting for you to find them.” Bellaire said. Gesturing to the paintings all over the walls. Roskva smiled, looking around in a new appreciation for the palace around her. A door slammed and they saw Starkon appear in the hall.

“Oh! Starkon!” Roskva waved. But he didn’t appear to hear and only stormed off. “Aneira, what did you do?” Roskva huffed and shook her head.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Bellaire said tried to hold Roskva back but she was already out of reach. Running to Aneira’s suite.

“Aneira!” Roskva called as she entered. Startling Aneira.

“Roskva! You scared me.” Aneira said, holding their hand over their heart, feeling it race. “What is it?”

“What did you say to Starkon!” Roskva demanded. “Why do you have to ruin everything?”

“Roskva, I didn’t.” Aneira scrambled for words. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe you. I’m so tired of apologizing for you!” Roskva stomped and let out a frustrated roar. Shouldering Bellaire to the side to storm after Starkon. Running down the hall after him. Aneira stood still. Bellaire rubbed her sore shoulder.

“That went well.” She said as she shut the door.

“I can’t keep doing this.” Aneira said. Collapsing onto a chair.

“It’s only a bit longer.” Bellaire pleaded.

“What does it matter?” Aneira snapped, sitting up straight to glare at Bellaire. “She’s completely taken away with that. That.”

“I know. But you’re making a difference, a good one!” Bellaire knelt down to the side table, holding onto the arm of Aneira’s chair. “Please! Please!”

“I can’t.” Aneira got up and hid in their room.