Clelia fiddled nervously with her skirt during the bumpy ride. The light blue dress she was wearing was different from the usual one, with white plant patterns finely embroidered on the gown. The adherent bust made her feel self-conscious, because its excellent cut hardly managed to mask the plainness of her body.

"Are you sure I look fine?" She asked him.

Damian smiled and grabbed her hand. "You look wonderful. Don't worry too much: as long as we stick together, I'm sure everything will be fine."

Before she could respond, the carriage halted.

Without letting go of her hand, he said, "It's time. Are you ready?"

"No," she chuckled.

He tilted his head. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem… a little off today."

"Oh, I'm probably just a little tired. You know, it's been busy lately."

"If you need anything, I'll be by your side." He kissed her on the forehead.

They walked out of the carriage and into the crowd of well dressed people, their arms locked together. He advanced with confidence and she felt as if, through the firm gentleness of his hold on her arm, he transmitted to her some of his ability not to be affected by the multitude of bodies around them. When they reached the entrance, Damian extended both of their tickets to a large man, who then let them in.

The hall of the theatre was magnificent: everything was made of marble, with elaborate architectural flourishes and even some sculptures around the walls. What got her attention the most was the huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling, holding dozens of small lights and dozens more finely cut crystals hanging from its many metallic arms. This had to be done with magic, there was no way that humans managed to put together something as grandiose as that without magic, right?

Despite it not being quite as crowded as outside, the hall was filled with the same kind of elegant people that Clelia had already seen on that sundowner they had attended to the previous week, when she had to attend with an illusion to cover her broken glasses and the aching bump on her forehead. Again, the variety of coloured dresses and extravagant hats worn by the women present contrasted with all the similar looking men, all seemingly dressed with black suits and cylindrical hats. Damian, of course, was dressed like all other men present, but… as ridiculous as it seemed to her for all of them to appear so similar, she had to admit that that look on Damian, specifically, was growing on her.

"Ah here you two are," declared a dusty voice as they approached a small group.

Damian's mother, before speaking again, gave a passing look at her son, then thoroughly and deliberately observed Clelia, from the bottom up. The fairy, for her part, did her best to ignore her stomach clenching under those inquisitive eyes.

"Hm. This will do, I suppose." She brushed her dark sleeve with her hand a couple of times, as if to clean it from some imaginary dust. "Now, join the rest of us: we have seats in the same loge."

Aside from Damian's mother, their group was composed of three other people. There was one young man with red hair, walking side by side with a blonde young woman, with shimmering blue eyes smiling from atop her yellow dress and generous neckline, showing off the elaborate jewels on her necklace.

The young man extended his hand to Clelia. "Hi, I'm Flibert, Damian's brother, very nice to finally have a chance to meet you."

She felt as if he hesitated fully committing to the handshake when she reached over with her hand. "Curious, I don't remember seeing you at our… oh, yeah, now that I think about it Damian did mention the fact that one of his brothers was abroad during our wedding."

Flibert nodded. "Yeah. And it has been a very intense week for business, I barely had any time to even see my darling Margherita, here. She's my fiancée."

Margherita performed what Madame Guillardine had explained to be a curtsy, to which Clelia tried responding in kind.

The third man in the group looked like an older and slightly taller version of Damian, with a perfectly trimmed short beard to frame his beautiful features instead of the smooth clean shave that Damian had. She had already met Vaufrej, Damian's oldest brother, two times no less, but the first time she didn't have her glasses yet, and the second time had been at their wedding, so she barely remembered him.

The tall young man addressed Damian. "Despite all of the inconveniences caused by the timing of the ceremony, I have to say that I'm glad that tonight we could participate with your wife already at your side: as far as I could observe, she's one of only three fairies at this event. She did draw a lot of eyes toward us."

Clelia's head snapped to look around them. She had been so focused on the architecture and dresses around them that she hadn't even considered there might be other fairies, aside from her. She knew she hadn't been the first fairy to have an arranged marriage with some high society human, so it made sense for her not to be the only one there. Now that she paid attention, she managed to spot two other pointy hats with large veils in the middle of the crowd, a pale yellow one and a dark blue one. She could catch a few glimpses of the young women wearing them, and she was sure they had to be fairies as well. She wasn't close enough to be able to tell, from their dresses, to which gens they might belong to.

A familiar, flourished voice called out for them. "Why, hello my wonderful nephews!"

Indeed, it was Aunt Lucia, followed closely by the beautiful figure of Marianna. Both wore dark red and black, with large hats, the former with extravagant plumage and the latter with flowers. Clelia ignored her stomach clenching once more at the sight of Damian's pretty cousin approaching.

The tall woman approached Vaufrej and kissed him on the cheek before he could react.

"Aunt," he protested, "have some dignity in public."

She loudly sighed,"Ah! But I never get to see my boy these days! You've gotten so tall and handsome, I…"

He firmly separated from her. "This is no family reunion. We must show decorum."

Marianna greeted Clelia and Damian with a big smile and an elegant wave. "Good evening Clelia, Damian. It's the first time I get to speak with both of you at the same time."

"Hi Marianna," responded Damian. "Clelia told me about meeting with you yesterday."

"She's lovely." Marianna theatrically adjusted her hair behind her ear. "And the other girls liked her too, especially little Teresa."

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Damian gently pulled Clelia closer by the arm. "Lovely is the right word indeed. Glad to hear you had a good time together."

Something in the tone with which Damian said those words put Clelia on edge. It was as if he was trying to hide some kind of underlying hostility. If that was truly the case, Marianna gave no outwardly sign of acknowledging it.

Her hands still tingled after applauding the end of what seemed like a popular aria. She had familiarity with ensemble music, but she had never seen such a big orchestra playing, nor had she ever seen anyone sing like the actors on stage. Their voices were full, powerful, and agile in a way that was completely new to her. The story wasn't complicated, even if the language used was rather poetic, perhaps a little verbose at times, making it somewhat hard to follow at times. But the music was undoubtedly stunning.

And yet, despite the fantastic music, something didn't feel right. Even throughout all the time in which nobody really paid any mind to her, she felt her stomach clenching harder and harder, in a way she couldn't quite explain. She glanced at the seats below and loges above, filled to the brim with elegantly dressed people. Her eyes then darted between Damian's profile and the silhouettes of his family around them, towering judgementally over her. She wished to tell everyone that she wasn't feeling too well, so that she could go somewhere quiet and sit there alone for a while… but that would cause a scene, which was the last thing she wanted to do on her first outing with Damian's family.

Her head drooped as her hands joined together, her fingers idly toying with each other in the dim light. For most of the time she had spent among humans, she had been too caught up in her own little world to pay too much attention to what Damian's family wanted from her. And, even if she had paid attention, until very recently it wouldn't have mattered all too much, considering her intentions to leave, sooner or later. But now… now that she had allowed herself to grow attached to him, she realised that she could no longer afford not to care about his family's expectations. And what did they want, exactly? Apparently, all they wanted from her was for her to be a pretty face at Damian's side, all exotic and fairy-like, so that she could be a conversation piece with the people they wanted to impress. She shuffled nervously in her seat. She wasn't even all that pretty.

That thought wasn't exactly new, but, again, it hit her differently now that her marriage with Damian had started becoming something more than just business. Some kind of invisible wall grew thicker and thicker around her, separating her from the unfamiliar environment and the unfamiliar people surrounding her all over. She aborted a feeble attempt at grasping for Damian's hand, fearing that he might be annoyed by her trying to steal his attention. She could feel tears hidden deep within conspiring to burst out, together with a primal scream just waiting for an opportunity to break free. But that plot against her composure, despite being blatantly present and active, was nowhere near strong enough to break through the walls of apathy that padded the walls of her consciousness. Instead of crying, she felt nauseous.

A pale vertical line (like a raindrop frozen in time), thinner than a hair, slowly became the focus of her attention. It oscillated, as if moved by an absent wind. A tiny white spider timidly crawled down the line. She gently placed her index finger in the path of the little creature (it feels like I've done this already), and it accepted the ride she was offering. Its tiny legs caressing the skin on her fingertip, lighter than a whisper, felt soothing, familiar.

A small, sad, familiar voice spoke to her. "My greetings, Clelia."

The memory of a pale child in the shadow of a colossal dark tower assaulted her. "You again. What do you want from me?"

"I'm not looking for your help right now. We have all the time in the world for that." The spider gently tiptoed further along her finger. "Now, I'm here only because I want to look out for you."

She took a breath to respond, but she realised that someone might have heard her talk to the spider, so she raised her eyes to see if anyone was paying attention to her, only to realise she was surrounded by darkness.

"Are we… are we in the dreamscape?" She wondered.

"Indeed," the spider oscillated, as if to nod. "I wouldn't be able to speak to you otherwise, because I have no presence in the physical realm. At least, not one that would be able to communicate."

"You said you're looking out for me, and I'd like to know how exactly."

"Your emotional state is unstable," the sad voice replied. "There are powerful presences that either mean you harm right now or will very soon. By whisking you away into the dreamscape, I was able to hide you, at least temporarily, but I won't be able to do that every time. You need to master your magic. The witch you met will help you, but, after she shows you how to move your feet, it will be up to you to actually get up and walk."

"So you're here just to tell me that I need to calm down?" Clelia trembled. "How can you expect me to calm down? Do you even realise in what kind of situation I am right now? I can barely keep it together as is, how can I keep doing it if you tell me that, if I don't, I will be in danger?"

"It's unfair, I know," sighed the spider. "But you are not alone. I sense a kindred spirit by your side, and the witch I was talking about, and some smaller faerie under your protection. And you have myself, too. Don't make it hard on yourself: if you feel like you can't do it alone, look for help from wherever you can get it. When you wake up, someone will be there for you: let him in, allow him to help."

"Who are you anyway?" Clelia finally asked.

"My name is Aracne," the voice responded. "You still aren't ready to know what I am, but apparently, this time, you'll be able to remember my name."

Something grabbed Clelia's shoulder.

"Ah," said the spider, "it's time for you to go. I only wish we could meet in merrier circumstances one of these days."

"How do you keep on finding me?"

"I don't need to find you. For as long as you carry your wand with you, I'll be there too, and I'll reach out whenever I can, if the need arises." The tiny spider waved with one of its minuscule legs. "Until next time."

A firm hand gently shook her awake. The dim light, the music, the unfamiliar silhouettes around, everything popped back into reality.

Damian's voice whispered in her ear, "Are you feeling well? Are you tired?"

She was about to respond that she was fine, but something inside told her that she needed to ask for his help.

"I feel a little nauseous," she whispered back.

He glanced at the rest of his family, then gestured her to follow him in silence. Since they were behind everyone, they were able to sneak beyond the curtains in the back of their loge.

Between the seats and the door to the corridor outside, there was an empty room, filled with almost complete darkness and the slightly muffled sound of the opera on stage.

"Do you need to go to a restroom?" He asked with a tone of concern.

"No, I'm not that nauseous… besides, if we opened the door in the back, wouldn't your family notice?"

"Who cares about that?"

"Well," she fiddled with the frame of her glasses, looking away, "I don't want to cause a scene."

After a brief silence, he inquired, "What is the problem, exactly? I want to help you, but I can't do that unless you tell me what's wrong."

Clelia sighed. "I'm just… really overwhelmed right now. Too much stuff happening too quickly. Too many people all around us, too many new sounds, too much pressure!"

She whimpered, trying her best not to let her voice become too loud. "I'm really sorry, I don't want to ruin the night for you. I think I feel a little better now that I've been able to get it out a little."

Even in the almost complete darkness, a glimmer of his beautiful eyes managed to reach her. "Are you sure you don't need me to do something for you? Something more practical, I mean?"

She hesitated for a moment. "May I ask for a kiss?"

With a quiet chuckle, he caressed her cheek and obeyed her request. He was calmer than he had been during their first kisses, more poised, more firm. The cluster of gnawing discomfort in her stomach melted away, at least in part.

After separating, she approached him again and whispered in his ear, "Did I ever tell you that you're really handsome?"

Even in the dark she could feel him shiver.

Before he was able to respond, a roaring applause erupted.

"That's the end of act one," he explained. "Do you want us to go out or do we go back with the others?"

"I'm fine now, thanks," she smiled. It was mostly true.

Clelia followed her husband back to his family. They still had most of the night to go through, but now she did feel a lot better, somehow. Hopefully, it would be easier going forwards.