The way to the night's dinner conference was through a marble corridor with a mosaic floor studded with jewels and lit by gold candlesticks. I desperately smoothed the obnoxious aquamarine ruffles lining my blue tent skirt, and my feet screamed in my pinching shoes.

"You look like a peacock," Marylea said. "But it's all right. I look like a jolly squirrel."

"She does not look like a peacock," Tem argued. "I think she looks beautiful."

My face burned, and butterflies blossomed in my belly. Traitorous body.

"Thanks, but I feel like a peacock," I said while trying to force the blush from my face.

"Yeah, Tem, how d'you manage to keep a straight face while saying that?" asked Fabe. Marylea laughed, and I shot him a look, to which he shook his head. "The dresses they make you wear."

Dreadfully under-packed for ballroom functions, we had been forced to loan dresses from the concierge. These were the least ridiculous dresses we could find.

"It's times like these when I really wish I had my Shaping abilities outside of Aragonia," said Marylea. "Why didn't anyone tell me to pack dresses that don't make me look like a woodland critter?"

"You're in good company. We all look like dorks," said Fabe, who was dressed in a bright green tuxedo and a lemon tie.

"You do know that 'dork' means whale penis?" said Keenan coolly.

Tem guffawed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Whale penis," he wheezed in between breaths. He was so amused he'd forgotten to scowl, the way he did at everything Keenan said.

"Go ahead, laugh," said Fabe grumpily. "If you were forced to take those fancy Cavals off and wear this, you won't think it's so funny."

Tem and Keenan were both dressed in their Cavals because it was considered formal. It was unfortunately not included in the female's dress code.

"Sorry, Royal Council members only." Tem put a hand on Fabe's shoulder. "If you ask nicely, I might petition for you to join the royal council as my private chef."

Fabe made to punch Tem in the arm, and Tem ducked away, laughing. I caught a flicker of a smile on Fabe's face. Fabe didn't care what his position was; life was good as long as he got to cook.

We ambled toward the ballroom where dinner would take place. Marylea and Keenan walked arm in arm in front of us, and Fabe wandered about the wide marble corridors admiring the ancient Greek decor – columns that reached high to the ceiling, sculptures depicting Greek myth, gold lining the walls.

"Holy trout!" Fabe cried. He turned to us, looking like it was Harvest Festival. "Would you look at that?"

Ahead of us, the ballroom's giant double doors, carved with intricate Greek stories, were thrown wide open, and through it I saw a scene even more outrageous than Ralf's birthday parties. (In my opinion, no one needed to hire fire-dancers or nearly naked girls to celebrate the day they popped out from their mother. Their wailing infant self didn't think it was a day worth celebrating.)

Inside the immense ballroom, a dim-violet glow and sweet lavender haze swathed the immense space. Flickering sconces lined the walls, hidden behind satin purple veils. A smooth jazz-oriental tune wafted around the mingling ball-goers and curtained booths that speckled the shimmering mosaic floor. Bubbles drifted in the air, and one came close to my face. I reached out to touch it, and it bounced away. Up on the ceiling, Clear glass pipes ran along it in a complex maze, in which violet liquid writhed like grape jelly snakes. I gazed at the gushing liquid, mesmerized by its sentience. Oh the decorations Achilles came up with.

My attention shifted to the pole dancers, who were sliding up, down and around glittering poles that were distributed across the immense space, dressed as cats or gypsies. The cats wore skin-tight suits and taut black cat ears; the gypsies wore two-pieces with dangling gold coins that glittered with each thrust.

Casino game tables made up most of the floor. I heard the rhythmic clicks of chips deposited onto the green velvet table surfaces, and the clonk-clonk of roulette balls and the jittery slot machine music. I snuck a glance at Fabe and saw that he was positively salivating.

I parted my lips to tell him to snap out of it when I heard my name.

"Ashling and the Aragonian ambassadors! Come, please join us."

"Stars bless us all," Tem mumbled.

Achilles, draped in a white toga and sporting a gold leaf laurel on his brown cherubic curls, waved from his tent in the middle of the room. Through the sheer curtains, I spotted Aphrodite, dressed in a matching red toga. Prince Ralf sat next to them, dressed like a Maharajah. He wore a sapphire-encrusted turban with three white feathers sticking out from the top; sparkling violet cloth wrapped around his torso. The ensemble was completed with gold pants and pointed cloth shoes.

I didn't know we were at a costume party. Maybe that's why I'm coming dressed as a peacock.

The five of us walked to the tent like we were on death row.

"Aragonians! Congrats on the win," said Achilles, his arms spread wide open as he leaned against the plush sofa. "I was impressed. After your performance last year, I'd never have thought you'd even reach the finals."

I glared at him. "We didn't appreciate your team's nasty trick in the dodger games arena."

Achilles' face was a blank. Then he guffawed loudly like an amused gorilla.

"The fake knife? Only a harmless prank. The audience loved it. I'd say it was worth it, don't you?" He raised an eyebrow.

Behind me, I could feel the glares of the others shooting over my shoulder at him.

"You guys are so much fun," he said, leaning against the upholstery. "Keenan! I saw how you played. I'm thinking might have to bribe you to be on my team next year. Team Ellis should be thrown into the shark tanks for how they performed. Name your price."

"I only play for Aragonia," said Keenan.

Achilles' eyes flashed. The golden boy was not accustomed to being rejected. There was a crackling silence and the booth filled with the smooth music in the background before Aphrodite chimed in, "So, Keenan, you and the Shaper, huh?"

"Yes."

"Strange," said Aphrodite. "I would've thought..."

"It was love at first sight," said Keenan, answering my question from the arena. He smiled, put an arm around Marylea's waist and pulled her towards him. "I couldn't resist this."

Marylea giggled. Aphrodite raised a plucked eyebrow but didn't say anything more.

"I like your attire, Ash," said Prince Ralf. "Very exotic."

I couldn't tell if he was jesting. "Er - thanks. It's borrowed from the hotel."

"Wonderful taste. Come sit."

"Naw," said Achilles. "You shouldn't sit here with cronies like us! Go have fun." He reached under the draped table and pulled out a leather suitcase. My heart sunk to my toes. He flipped the clasps open to reveal rows upon rows of colored chips.

"This is on me," said Achilles. "Go on. Enjoy yourselves. Take it as my apology for the fake knife."

"We really shouldn't -" I began.

"Aw come on, Ash," said Fabe, pleading. "It's on him."

"Fabe has a point," said Tem.

I felt a surge of irritation. "Fabe should not - it's not healthy."

"It's just a hobby," said Fabe.

I shot him a look. "The fact that you just said that genuinely scares me."

Prince Ralf stood, smoothing his gold silk pants. "My dear Ash, have some fun. It's not every day you're in Ellis. I'll go with you guys." Apparently the drinks he had had made him forget his feud with us.

"Go if you must. I'm sitting out," I said, and plopped onto the plush seat next to Aphrodite. I regretted this instantly, but it was too late.

Achilles got to his feet. "Your loss, Ash. You are, indeed, a true blue Aragonian." He winked, and I pictured my fingers around his neck again. "Let's go, my friends." He flashed a perfect smile, one that could only be the product of stuffing wads of cash into a happy orthodontist's wallet.

My party followed after Achilles and Prince Ralf, Tem and Fabe looking apologetic, Keenan whispering in Marylea's ears, and Marylea giggling. I felt a tinge of worry for Marylea, one that I quickly dismissed.

Once Achilles left the booth, Aphrodite instantly shed her shell of sophistication like it was a slimy cocoon. She crossed her waxed legs and stretched both arms out across the seats. She had returned to being the Aphrodite I used to know.

"How are you doing, Ashby?" She draped herself across the seat, looking exhausted.

"Okay, with our new Shaper and all. We're still getting used to it. How're you, Deity?"

Aphrodite smiled. "Busy. You know Achilles. He's always got a new plan to better his world." She laughed and sat up to refill her wine glass. "Marylea seems awfully normal, doesn't she?"

I raised an eyebrow, and I felt my walls building up again. "If you mean she's not flamboyant, then yes, she's very normal."

Aphrodite chuckled wearily. "I know how you feel about Achilles. About this Kingdom." She revealed a glowing set of perfect teeth that mirrored Achilles'. "You don't like how he flaunts his wealth."

Getting uncomfortable, I decided to change the subject. "So, how're the two of you doing?" The question in my head was really, How did you get Achilles, the hot air balloon head, to commit to you?

"Oh, we're good. He works me like a slave. But that's life with Achilles." She sipped on her wine. "I love your dress. I noticed the emeralds on the lace and hem. That must've cost thousands. Achilles is very generous that way."

I grunted. I hadn't even noticed the emeralds, and realized now that was what had been scratching my arms.

"It's about time you started dressing your class, Ashby," Aphrodite continued. She brushed a golden curl off her face. "I'll take you shopping. You won't find better shopping anywhere else. Ellisians pride ourselves in being always ahead of the fashion world."

My heart sank. The new Aphrodite was back. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed the old Deity until she was gone again. Somehow, I managed to force a chuckle. "Aphrodite, it's almost like you don't know me."

She groaned and leaned forward so her plunging neckline left little to the imagination. "If you won't dress for your status, at least dress for your love life." She said the last two words in a whisper, as if they were sacred.

I pressed my lips together. "I find it more important to capture a man with my mind and heart than with my body."

"Not your body. Your assets," Aphrodite corrected. "If you have them, flaunt them." Her gaze settled on my chest.

I shifted in my seat. "Please stop staring. It's weird."

Aphrodite averted her eyes with a smirk. She leaned back again and said, "Father is very proud of me. My family's position will be elevated beyond our wildest dreams if Achilles marries me. That's what both of us want to do, isn't it? Make our families proud."

I stroked one of the emeralds on my gown. It was smooth, cold to the touch. Almost as cold as my father's affection for me. Our relationship had always felt like one between a King and his successor; there was no warmth between us, not any I could feel. "I just want to serve my Kingdom the best I can," I said.

"Is that so?" Aphrodite took another sip of wine and cocked her head towards the slit where the veil curtain parted. "So - that scholar boy. He seems enamored with your new Shaper."

I realized I'd been holding my breath and let it out now that conversation had moved into safer waters. "He does, doesn't he? It's funny."

Aphrodite raised an eyebrow. "Rightfully so. He was always very... picky, wasn't he?" She clucked her tongue. "Would you like some wine? This darned bottle is almost empty. Yes? I'll be right back." She winked, stretched her slender form to its six foot length, then left the booth.

I sat in the booth alone, guzzling spring water to curb an impending headache, to no avail.

Then Templeton's callused hands pushed the veil apart and he entered the booth smelling overpoweringly of lavender. He wore a sort of dazed look, like someone had blown sleep-powder in his face.

My heart soared. "Hey. Where're the others?"

Templeton stroked my hair and sent chills down my body. "We got separated. Achilles was whisking us from table to table. The others are at the roulette table, I'd imagine. I just thought I'd check on you." He sat down by me. "You all right?"

I let my eyes shut. "I have a killer headache."

"Must be the haze," he said. "Care to take a walk?"

I felt a surge of affection for this boy. "That would be great."

We left the booth. The jazz had been replaced by a rock number, which pounded on my temples like a bratty child.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

We kept to the walls of the ballroom, narrowly avoiding drunks sashaying from one slot machine to the next, or pole dancers reaching out for us with manicured fingers. Finally, we came to a tall, arching set of double doors. Tem pushed it open and crisp air washed over me like a spring breeze. I inhaled and filled my smoldering lungs with cool, mountainous air.

Tem closed the doors behind us, creating a seal against the blasting music and haze.

Content, my headache ebbing, I leaned against the balcony balustrade. The white stone was cool to the touch and sent a series of goosebumps up my arms. I thought about what a miracle it was that tiny stars were still visible over the sweeping strobe lights and disorienting LED signs.

"Crazy place," said Tem.

"You bet."

We stood in quiet companionship as my headache slowly went away. Then I became painfully aware that it was just me and Tem on the balcony. Alone. My heart quickened, and before fantasies could creep into my mind, I hurried to find something to distract myself with. My attention rested on the fog that swathed the bases of the thirteen Ellisian mountains.

"See that fog?" I pointed at the thick, opaque layer separating the top of the mountains from their bases. "I wonder what's under there?"

Tem shrugged. "Probably nothing."

"My headache's gone. Care to go exploring?"

Tem smiled. "You are a true student of the Aragonian Knight School."

The only way down to the fog from the Olympians was a crumbled stone stairway that wound from a deserted garden peppered with grayed statues. The rocky surface was impossible to walk on with heels, so I yanked my heels off and carried on barefoot. Sharp rock edges peppered with sand dug into my skin, but my toes didn't feel like they were gripped in a vice, and I got a much better grip on the treacherous stairs that way. Templeton offered me his boots, but I smiled and muttered something about feminine strength. He shook his head, grinning.

The stairway extended into the fog. A sudden, baffling fear gripped me, like I was about to cross into a realm of ghosts and my senses were trying to stop me.

"You okay?" asked Tem.

I nodded. "Let's cross Achilles' barrier of secrecy, shall we?"

I gritted my teeth, and together, we walked into the fog.

The first thing we saw on the other side was a barbed-wire fence that stretched as far as we could see. It was dark under the fog, the air dense and foul. Two guards stood dressed in black uniforms with white shoulder pads by a large rusted gate. From each of their hips hung a sleek metal baton and a pistol. Their eyes went wide as the full moon obscured by the fog above when they saw us approaching.

"What're you doing here?" the guard with the bushy beard demanded.

I put my arms on my waist to make sure my dagger was there. "We'd like to see what's past that gate," I said. "Please."

"You're shittin' me, right?" the bearded man said. "Ain't nothin' to see here. Why don't you scurry back to your Greek palaces, eh? Corrum Pier ain't for you people and your flower-scented bubbles." He turned to his partner. "Speaking of bubbles, Jimmie, did you know they don't pop if you touch 'em? Those crazy rich people, making bubbles that don't pop."

Corrum Pier? Was there a whole other city under the fog?

The other guard, Jimmie, sported a trim goatee and a scar across his right forearm. He scowled at his partner's talk of bubbles. He shrugged. "I dunno, Mikey. The boss said to keep' em in after hours, but he ain't say nothin' about restrictin' visitors."

Them? Was he talking about people behind the fence?

"Ya serious, Jimmie?" Mikey eyed us with utmost suspicion. "You don't think they up to no good?"

"Naw. What do they rich folks want from the bottom dwellers of Ellis?" Jimmie laughed. "They're just curious, tha's all, and I respect curiosity. Go on in then, your highnesses. Watch your valuables, now. Those bottom dwellers know a gold mine when they see one."

Mikey released the padlock, eyeing us like he was a prison guard and us his prisoners. Then he swung the gate open and let us pass.

I walked in with buzzing nerves and took in the scene before me.

If Ellis was Heaven, the place Mikey referred to as Corrum Pier was Hell. There were no paved roads, no sparkling travellators, no carefully landscaped gardens or glittering lights. Instead, dirt paths led to mud huts thatched with straw; living skeletons ambled about the place with burlap sacks on their backs, hoisting crates of raw diamonds onto wheelbarrows, and dragging wheelbarrows across mud to the stainless steel lifts that went to the surface. Corrum Pier's citizens moved like ants in a rusty clockwork, trudging from the harbor to the shiny lift landings. Mud ponds surrounded the area, and shards of glass peppered the ground like diamonds. I put my shoes back on to avoid cuts, and felt instantly ridiculous to be wearing satin, bejeweled heels in a place like this.

Corrum Pier circled around Ellis' core mountain on which The Olympians perched, its circumference lined with Ellis' other twelve mountains. The dense fog that covered it seemed to leech the life out of everything it obscured. If Fabe were here, he would say Corrum Pier looked like a huge, rotten donut, and I would agree.

The lifts were out of bounds to the dwellers of Corrum Pier; the guards standing by made sure of that. Instead, the goods were rolled to a line drawn across the sand, and the guards took over from there, pushing carts into the lift, looking at the dwellers as if they were filthy rats that mustn't touch the pristine steel. The guards were dressed in the same black-white uniform as Mikey and Jimmie stationed at the gates, except they wore gas masks for the stench rising up from the ground. Besides the guns and batons holstered in their belts, they brandished electronic tablets, ticking off goods as they were carted to the surface.

We had descended upon a land of hardship from a polished Eden, much like how Greek gods descended from Mount Olympus upon human land. Perhaps Achilles was trying to be poetic.

Tem and I walked around in silence. We were mostly ignored by the citizens, except for a few blank stares by children who were scrubbing clothes in basins or drawing with sticks in the sand. The guards shot us bitter looks, scorning our access to the surface and our rich clothing.

"Are you ready to go?" Tem asked after we had walked a full circle.

I nodded mutely.

Tem led the way back to the gates, and I made sure to lag behind so he wouldn't see what I was about to do. With nimble fingers, I loosened the knot that secured the moneybag tucked into my waist ribbon. Then, making sure the guards weren't looking, I tossed it through a random open window, from which the smell of cabbage soup wafted through.

There was a faint gasp, a quick rustling, then silence.

Without a second glance, I padded after Tem. We knocked on the gate and said our names through the slot. Jimmie and Mikey unlocked the gate and opened it, sneering.

"Enjoy your little tour?" Jimmie asked.

I was too sick to answer.

"That's what I thought."

Together, Tem and I climbed the steps that broke through the fog and into mountainous air that carried the sting of peppermint.

I followed Tem wordlessly to the booth in the ballroom, willing my body to warm up, even though my heart had been frozen solid.

Keenan was in the booth, his eyes closed.

"Keenan, where's Lea?" I asked.

Keenan stirred, and I realized he'd been sleeping. "Ash? Trout, did I fall asleep?"

"It appears so," said Tem grimly.

"Where's Lea?" I repeated, panic gripping my heart.

"What a party," said Fabe, popping through the veil red-faced and waving his arms in the air like a banshee. "Are we having fun yet?"

"Is Marylea behind you?" I asked urgently. "Please say yes."

"No, I wandered off to get a drink," Fabe slurred. "I thought she was with you guys."

Panic jolted my heart. "Keen," I said, exasperation creeping in my voice, "tell me you know where she is."

Keenan's face had drained of all blood. "Marylea went to the ladies and said she'd meet me back here..."

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"I don't know. Trout, I'm so sorry..."

Dread sunk into me like a cannonball. I glanced at Tem. His eyes widened and he shook his head.

"Marylea's missing," I said out loud. My fingertips went numb with shock. "Spread out."

First, we sent WOT messages to everyone in the Aragonian party, including Captain Maherty and Prince Ralf, but no one responded. What happened next was a messy whirlwind of panic, distress, strobe lights, pole dancers slithering up and down, people yelling when they won or lost, the repetitive cha-chink of slot machines, screaming feet trapped in pointy shoes, and an omnipresent haze. At one point I must have gotten sick of my pinching shoes, yanked them off and flung them into a fountain, for at the end of the night I was barefoot.

After we had searched the mountain and not found so much as a strand of Lea's fiery hair, Keenan suggested she might be back in our rooms. Hoping against hope, we ran across a sparkling travellator to the middle mountain.

The corridor to our room was covered in a plush blue carpet that made me feel like I was running across a marshy swamp. Keenan ran ahead of us, his midnight Caval trailing behind him. Every step I took seemed like a step closer to being forced to abdicate. Ashling, Crown Princess, has proved herself time and time again incapable of guarding a single person. Useless. Untrustworthy. Unfit to rule a Kingdom. Perhaps I should've left my tiara at the bottom of the lake.

As my bitter thoughts stung my throat, Keenan skidded to a halt a few doors before my and Lea's room. He looked into the room on the left, and turned to us, his eyes wide as a barn owl's.

"She's in there," he whispered.

My breath caught. Had we really found her?

We ran to the doorway and peered in. It was dim but for the glow of the aquarium wall; this one had jellyfish bobbing in iridescent colors. Marylea was splayed across a king-sized bed, her head tilted to its side like that of roadkill. A streak of red was splashed across her dress. A shadow was cast over her by a dark figure who had three feathers sticking out of the turban on his head.

My mouth was dry. "Ralf?"

Prince Ralf jolted and spun around to meet my wide eyes. He was still fully dressed in his maharajah costume.

"What're you doing?" I whispered.

I couldn't see Ralf's eyes; they were concealed by inky pools of shadow. "I'm helping to undress her so she may sleep in clean clothes." He straightened. "Her dress is dirty."

"What is that?" I asked, pointing at the red stain that slashed across Marylea's bodice.

"Red wine. She spilled some on herself."

Ralf was standing by the bed, frigid, hands open and slightly raised as if surrendering. A stern innocence was plastered across his face. Of course he was just undressing her because it was dirty. She would have a shift underneath, anyway. Everything would be decent.

"Is she all right?" I asked.

"Yes, just a little intoxicated."

Keenan stepped into the room wearing an expression more bitter than frostbite. "'A little' is a gross understatement."

Prince Ralf sighed. "Sorry. We might've gotten carried away with the refreshments."

A round object sailed through the room and crashed into the aquarium wall. Prince Ralf jumped away from the bed, his large eyes accusing.

"Fabe!" I grabbed Fabe's arm to prevent him from hauling a candelabra.

"You dirty scum," growled Fabe. "Did you or did you not receive our WOT messages?"

Prince Ralf extended his wrist to show his WOT watch, its screen cracked into a broken web. "Someone slammed my hand into the wall. The crystal splintered like a chopstick."

"Why didn't you take her to her room?" Tem asked.

"I didn't have your room key." Prince Ralf frowned. "What is all this? Is this an interrogation?"

"I don't believe you," said Keenan. He stood still as a column, glaring at Prince Ralf as if he was Zeus who'd had his thunderbolts stolen.

Prince Ralf looked at me. "You believe me, don't you, Ash?"

My throat went dry.

"Don't you?"

I took a deep breath, but couldn't bring myself to answer. All the evidence pointed to one thing, and one thing only.

Ralf stared at me for a whole minute, then stomped his foot. "Are you kidding me? After all our years of friendship, you think I would --" He bit his lip.

I felt like a cobra had tightened around my throat. All that came out of me was a dry rasp. "The Ralf I knew is gone. I feel like I don't know you anymore." I exhaled, and turned to look at the carpet. "Keenan, would you please carry Marylea into my room?"

Keenan trudged forward and hoisted Marylea into his arms.

"After all these years, Ash," said Prince Ralf. "I would've thought -"

"Stop," I repeated. "I won't hear it."

"You deserted me!" Prince Ralf pulled his turban off and tossed it to the floor, leaving his head a ruffled birds' nest. "You left me all alone in that dreadful castle, with people who didn't care if I lived or died!"

"Enough excuses. You've changed!" I cried.

"No, Ash. You've changed," he retorted. "The Ash I knew would back me up. Now you and your goody-two-shoes friends think you're so much better than me. I know what you say behind my back. That I'm spoiled rotten, a waste of life. Squandering my coins with Achilles the pompous ass. As if you spent enough time with me to know."

I narrowed my eyes and drew a long breath to drive the white flashes away. Yes, I'd spent a lot less time with Ralf since I'd known Tem. But I'd invited him to our games, haven't I? I've invited him to Knight School to have a friendly duel. But he never wished to participate in our rough housing. We'd become two different people, so why was he pinning this on me?

"Goodbye, Prince Ralf." I closed the door quietly behind me and we marched down the corridor to our room. He did not open the door.

"Stars, she's totally wasted," Keenan mumbled as Marylea's head lolled and she swayed in his arms. His human baggage reeked of alcohol. Marylea's large dress skirt threatened to trip Keenan and send both of them flying, so I had to lift her train. We got in the room and Keenan laid her on the bed.

"I knew he was no good," Templeton said, eyes flashing.

"We should report him," said Keenan. His hood was down for the first time that evening, revealing his ink black hair and pallor.

"For what?" I said. "We can't prove anything."

"He was going to -" Fabe clenched his fists. "You know what he was going to do, Ash."

I folded my arms to shield myself from the boys' angry tirade, and also to calm myself. "I don't know what he was doing. None of us can say for sure."

"You know, there have been rumors back in the castle about maidservants sneaking from the royal wing at night," Templeton said.

"That means nothing," I said.

"It does so," said Fabe.

"Even so, it must've been consensual."

Templeton sighed in frustration. "Why are you defending him?"

I hugged myself harder. Because it was much easier to believe Ralf, my childhood compadre, wasn't a monster.

"Aha!" Fabe cried, as if getting a brainwave. "We can ask Marylea what happened after she wakes up. Perhaps she'll be able to tell us something about the Prince."

"That'll work," said Templeton.

I felt a stab of fear. That was when I realized I'd suspected Ralf all along, and a wave of nausea gripped me. Was I right to suspect my friend of such a heinous deed?

I didn't want Marylea to wake up. I didn't want to hear what she had to say.

Keenan glanced at Marylea. "Well, she probably won't be up until well into tomorrow afternoon. We should all go to bed and come back tomorrow."

"That's all we can do, I guess," said Templeton. He reached out to touch my head, and I didn't try to avoid it. He stroked my hair as if apologizing for Ralf's behavior. "Get some sleep. We'll see you tomorrow."

I didn't look up to meet his gaze. "I'll be here."

The three men left the room, leaving me in a room so silent my ears rang. Nonchalant fishes drifted past the window. I felt strangely conflicted, like a sea of magma had crashed into an ocean and turned into rock that clogged me up inside.

"Unn..." groaned Marylea again. "Kee-nan."

Marylea's sleep talk pinched a smile out of me. Silly, lovestruck girl. How lucky must one be to be able to throw yourself wholeheartedly into a relationship? No responsibilities, no complications, no duties to fulfill. Just pure, unadulterated love. I touched the spot on my head that Tem had touched, and quivered.

I tucked Marylea into the bed as snug as she could, then stripped off my dress, put on a night shift, and crawled into my bed.

When I finally managed to fall asleep, I dreamt of Templeton, Keenan and Fabe wielding steel swords, each donning shiny NeoAlum armor. They stood outside Prince Ralf's door, pounding and shouting profanities. When Prince Ralf opened the door, his hair rumpled and eyes wide, Templeton's blade went right through Prince Ralf's chest, and the blank expression in his eyes was the last thing I saw before I woke up with a jolt, trembling.

***

"She's stirring."

Fabe waved the smelling salts under Marylea's nose. It took a few more waves of the glass bottle before Marylea's eyelids fluttered open.

"Ow. My head," she moaned, bringing her hands up to cradle her crown.

"You shouldn't have drunk so much," Keenan chided like a nanny.

"Oww..."

"Will she be well enough to answer our questions?" asked Templeton.

"Shh. Not so fast," I replied.

Marylea turned to stare at Keenan with wondrous eyes. Then she gave a cry of horror and grabbed the blankets, pulled them over her head and squealed.

Keenan looked flabbergasted and looked at me with a panicked confusion.

"Shh," I said. "Come, Marylea, lower the sheets."

Like a child afraid of the boogeyman, Marylea slowly brought the sheets to her shoulders.

"Why is everyone in here?" she croaked.

"We have a few questions about what happened last night," said Templeton.

"Last...night?" Marylea winced, like the effort it took to remember yesterday's happenings was drilling a hole in her skull. "It's all a blur. Ow..."

I crouched over her defensively. "Tem..."

Tem's lips were a taut line. "We need to know the truth."

"What truth?"

"The truth about what happened between you and Prince Ralf last night."

Marylea's eyes widened, and she looked at Keenan with an alarmed expression. "What d'you think could've happened?"

I sat on Marylea's bedside. "Marylea, we found you in Prince Ralf's room last night. You were knocked out, and he was, well - about to undress you because your dress was dirty."

Marylea looked scandalized. "Undress me?" Her brow creased like an accordion. "Oh. I remember. I was waiting for Keenan outside the restrooms, and next thing I knew, I was floating in a boat along a canal like the one in the Venetian with Achilles and his friends. Oh, wait, you don't know what that is..."

"The Venetian in Las Vegas?" asked Keenan.

"Yes, that's the one." Marylea stared at Keenan. "Have you heard of Vegas?"

"I've read books about it. What else happened last night?"

"We took a boat ride down the canal. Achilles and his friends were giving me a grand tour." She grabbed her head. "Ow, ow, ow."

"Sounds like he duped your drink," Templeton said matter-of-factly. "You've got a pretty bad hangover there."

"Duped? He wouldn't have done that. He was...nice to me." She looked at Keenan, guilty as a ferret. "One of Achilles' friends spilled his wine on me while we were on the boat, Hephaestus, I think his name was, and he offered his room for me to change, but Ralf insisted taking me into his room instead."

"And you let him?" Fabe asked, flabbergasted.

Marylea went pale. "He seemed so earnest. And I had such a headache..."

"You've got to be careful around people, Lea," said Fabe. "Quit being so trusting."

Offense flashed across Marylea's hazel eyes. "Ralf is all right. We just had too much to drink. Glasses shoved at us every step of the way. You remember that, right?" She shot Keenan an expectant look.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Keenan asked.

"Fishes."

Tem sighed. "There's nothing we can do now," he said, "except to stick to Lea like super glue and keep Ralf and Achilles away from her."

"I believe Ralf is innocent," I said. Relief invigorated me as the words passed my lips. I hadn't noticed how much my mind and soul wanted to believe he was innocent, and now, listening to Marylea's side of the story, I do.

Marylea's head bobbed. "Ralf wouldn't have done anything to me."

Fabe sighed and shook his head. "What is it that the Prince has over you women?"