Reya covered her mouth with the back of her hand, and she snickered, eyeing True Stilettos. “Didn’t you get the memo? I don’t remember you being invited to the elite section.”

“Invited? Gen gave me his place, and my date is here.” Making a show of force, she pivoted on her heels and strode towards Aether. He stood at the center of the room, still with no one around him. His aura with its biting chill deterred them from approaching.

Gen stepped into his domain, causing him to turn. She couldn’t see his gaze—he was wearing a helmet—but she could feel it. It was cold, far colder than when he looked at her true self. What had Dessy done to summon his dislike?

She continued marching forward, the surrounding conversations quieted, and his aura did little to affect her. With each step her stilettos echoed throughout the room with a force of presence.

Gen reached Aether. Putting on a sweet smile, she wrapped an arm around his. Frost cloaked the hems of her dress.

Leaning ambiguously close, she whispered, “Mind warming up a bit? I’m still your subordinate’s sister.”

“You’re my date for only tonight,” he said. The ice dispersed, yet the temperature remained freezing.

Gen tilted her head and let out a faint chuckle. “Don’t like me? That’s fine.” She was confident in her Dessy’s ability to seduce a man.

If Aether truly didn’t want a date with Dessy after tonight, then there was something wrong with his head, and she would need to change her plans. Or somehow orchestrate another meeting. Worst case scenario, she pretends to bump into him as a completely different woman.

“Hey!” A woman stepped forward from the crowd. A dark-purple dress flowed around her, and aura seeped from her body in an unsteady stream, proving she was an aura-breaker.

An amateur, Gen thought.

The woman stomped with her boot, sending a gust of wind through the inner gala. “Who do you think you are, grabbing His Highness’s arm like that? Know your place.”

Gen ducked behind Aether. “I’m his girlfriend. Why do you think he didn’t repel me with his aura?”

“That...” The woman dressed in purple scrunched her brows; the inner chamber had become dead silent.

Reya chuckled. She said her words loudly for everyone to hear: “A fake date. Fenri, tell them.”

“It’s just for tonight due to a deal,” he said, remaining ambiguous about the details. The surrounding watchers nodded, and a few glowered at Gen.

It was written on their faces. They thought it was her who had forced Aether to bring her as a date, not Aether who had asked for one. Restraining a snigger, she lowered her head and whispered. She employed all her willpower to muster up the most vomiting-inducing yet heart-stirring complaint. “They’re being mean. They think I’m a gold digger.”

“A commoner like you should feel guilty.” Reya flipped her hair then said, “Look at you, wearing heels to a gala celebrating weaponized fashion boots.”

Weaponized? Gen’s ears pricked up, and her eyes swept over each boot. She had thought people were weird for wearing such a thing to a formal event; now it was her who was being rude. She whispered to Aether, hoping he would respond. “If you don’t defend your supposed girlfriend, your reputation as a man will be in jeopardy.”

“What are you whispering?” asked Reya. She stepped closer but stopped at the border of Aether’s domain. Eyes followed her carrying respect, gratitude, and envy. A few nods...

What was this? Gen asked herself. The spectators’ blatant bias towards Aether and Reya stung at her like a thin knife prying up her skin. She knew she was unimportant, but there was no reason to be so brusk about her insignificance. Gen swallowed and forced down her feelings of inferiority.

She was tough, she told herself.

Whispering, she asked Aether, “What family is Reya from?”

He said nothing, and Gen clicked her tongue. Who were Reya and Fenri? It had to be more complicated than she had originally thought. She made a mental note to question Mind on the matter. She shouldn’t have ignored the politics surrounding the Puresouls nor the ancient saying, “know your enemy.” She had no idea which families backed Aether as opposed to Janus.

Such a foolish mistake, she scorned herself. Because the matter stressed her, she hadn’t gathered such simple information when she had returned to the Compass Constellation one year prior.

Reya crossed her arms and puffed her chest to display her dominance. “I asked you a question. What are you whispering?”

Gen coyly smiled at her. The spectators wouldn’t lower their opinion of Aether and Reya regardless of their actions. Aether could slander her, and he’d still be the number one prince in women’s hearts. Might as well lie.

Gen chuckled. “Whispers of sweet nothings are private words shared between a woman and a man.”

“Ha! We all know His Highness Prince Aether is ignoring you.”

Gen lightly tugged Aether’s arm. C’mon, say something, man. Don’t be the biggest jerk in the galaxy.

He remained silent despite the fact his gaze hadn’t left her. Sure, his helmet faced Reya, but he was looking at Gen from the corner of his eye. She felt it piercing through her.

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Gen whispered, “I know you’re watching me. Just say something.”

“Look at yourself.” Reya snickered. “You’re an embarrassment.”

Plan B. Shifting her grip on Aether’s arm, Gen jutted her chin and ignored Reya. If Aether could ignore people, why couldn’t she?

Aether suddenly stiffened, his gaze leaving her. His aura minutely changed, and a tinge of savageness spread throughout it as if some great foe stimulated it.

Gen guessed the location of his focus and looked towards Reya. There was just her and Fenri.

Then, the double doors opened for the arrival of a new guest.

Gen’s body stiffened, and Aether’s aura probed her. Oh crap. “I’m not an embarrassment!” she yelled, hoping it was enough to explain her stiffening but knowing it was a poor lie.

She cursed at herself. Why had that man come?

“Ha!” Reya sneered. “Look at you causing—ah!”

Fenri pulled Reya aside and held her tight within her grasp. He stepped away from the door and the man who had entered.

The man, somewhat feminine for Gen’s tastes, clapped. He wore a black tuxedo and a blue bowtie. The blue clashed with his hot-pink hair and ruby eyes, and it didn’t fit his grin from which he showed his sharp canines. If he had worn casual clothes or another colored bowtie, Gen would have found him somewhat charming. That was under the condition he hadn’t murdered Sexy the Third.

Umbra Keith, hailing from planet D’nathal.

Once an orphan boy of unknown heritage, Umbra had awakened to become a powerful aura-breaker and ascended into the ranks of the elite. The day he had unlocked his aura break was also the same night he had slaughtered everyone who had ever slighted him. The news had spread across the Compass Constellation, and instead of executing him as was their duty, the Puresoul family pardoned him. They knighted him as one of their aura knights.

Gen hid herself behind Aether, using him to hide her rage until she calmed herself. Umbra wasn’t the one who had killed Law, but he was one of Janus Puresoul’s hitmen. And that reminded her of a bad memory.

“Congratulations, Star Prince Aether. Are you finally getting married?” Umbra said and eyed Gen.

She blinked at him and crossed her fingers. She placed trust in her own forgettable face—people didn't seem to remember what she looked like. All she had to do was wear some different clothes, change her gait, and introduce herself with a different name. It had certain limits, but it was enough to fool most people—like what she was now doing as Dessy.

Her face, one of the reasons for her low opinion of herself, constantly reminded her that she was unimportant. Forgettable. Unneeded. Her many disguises and identities mocked both herself and others. She used them to spy and uncover one’s heart. Fun petty tricks, but the result hurt her. People’s obliviousness was her greatest joy, yet also her greatest pain.

When would she find a man who would love her for who she is? A man who would value and remember her?

Aether shifted his body so that he stood in front of Gen. His movements cut her from her thoughts of sadness, and her eyes sparkled. Had Dessy made some progress?

Aether said, “Hello, Umbra.”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” Umbra flicked his hair then aura broke, activating his aura ability. Within a split second, a red orb appeared in his hand and released a continuous beam of light and energy. It blasted towards them.

Aether also aura broke, summoning seven shards of ice. They hovered around him as a vortex of hail tore through his surroundings. One shard expanded in size, forming a giant shield emblazoned with the Maelstrom emblem—an armored seal encircled by an array of stars.

The towering shield blocked the red energy beam. Their collision produced a loud, ringing screech; the wayward aura filled the room like glittering dust.

The guests stumbled away from the pair, and their expressions contained no surprise. This must have been a common occurrence.

Aether snapped his fingers, and one of his shards floated to above his head. Its surface morphed and rippled into the picture of a closed eye. The eye opened, and a blue beam, much like Umbra’s, shot from its pupil.

Snickering, Umbra opened his other hand. Another orb appeared in his palm, and it launched a beam of energy at Aether’s attack. The two forces clashed, releasing light that overshadowed everything else in the room. A few people stumbled and gasped.

Gen closed her eyes, shivering at the unbearable coldness oozing from Aether. Her teeth clenched, and she restrained her instinctive reaction to aura break. Her blood was boiling, but if she created a force field, Umbra would recognize her as Gender Bender; then everything would be ruined.

The two men stopped in unison, as if they had planned it. Aether’s ice shards, now inert and melting, clanked against the ground. Umbra’s orbs vanished.

“I’m just playing,” Umbra said. “Will you be marrying her? She seems to be quite the little lamb. Not your style.”

Gen narrowed her eyes. Who’s a little lamb? I’m a wolf!

“Heh, spunky.” The man straightened his clothes and approached.

Aether held out his arm, meaning for Gen to stay behind him; but she quickly clutched it, creating the false impression he outstretched his arm for her to hold.

She then offered to shake hands with Umbra, proud of her daring and willingness to spite Aether for ignoring her. He wasn’t happy: the temperatures dropped and the ground cloaked with ice. Umbra, to her surprise, had raised his hand to shake hers but had suddenly halted. Immobilized by Aether, no doubt.

Gen repressed a glare; Aether needed to stop freezing things whenever he wished to throw a tantrum.

Was it jealousy or concern?

Hiding her smugness, Gen showed everyone a gentle smile, and her mind churned. She thought of how both men were close to Janus Puresoul and how they had killed many people and had murdered either Sexy the Third or Sexy the Fourth. The result of her comparison?

Aether, being a sinfully handsome playboy, outweighed the evils of Umbra. Using Umbra to attract his concern might help her in her Dessy scheme.

Gen grabbed Umbra’s immobile hand and shook it. Her eyes glistened with light tears as if she had been wronged. In her sweetest voice, she faked a blush and said, “I’m Descending Rook, and everyone calls me Dessy. I’m Prince Aether’s date.”

“You don’t look too happy,” he said. His words came out clunky, and a drop of sweat dripped down his jaw. Aether’s fault, no doubt.

“I’m happy.” Gen lowered her eyes and gazed at True Stilettos. She whispered. “The elites are jealous, and I’m only a commoner. But you seem like a nice man.”

Aether abruptly left the pair to stand by Reya and Fenri. His back faced them, and his pressure eased, freeing Umbra. This was not in Gen’s expectations.

A nagging sensation told her he still watched her. Looking through a mirror? A camera? Something else? She couldn’t place it.

“Don’t take it personally,” Umbra said, rolling his shoulders and neck. He sent a sidelong glance at Aether; and when he turned to Gen, his countenance relaxed. He grinned. “He’s very uptight.”

Gen nodded.

He said, “If I were him, I would’ve defended you. Watch this.”

Umbra raised his hands above his head then clapped. The guests’ faces darkened. The psycho was about to create another scene so soon after causing the last one. “Hey, you elitist pricks. How dare you pick on Dessy?”

Gen blushed. This time, she didn’t fake it.