After a few more hours spent socializing, occasionally sneaking away to just spend time with his sister or Aurora, Char decided it was finally time to share the next dance with Hattie. It would be a relatively slow dance, which would allow him to be able to have a hushed conversation with her.

"Lady Hattie, may I have this dance?" Char tried not to flinch at her squealed agreement, or the way a tourniquet would have a looser grasp upon his arm. Though he spent the whole ball (minus the wonderfully distracting time he spent with Lela) thinking of how he could ease into a conversation surrounding her step sister, after a few moments, when Char opened his mouth, his worries immediately flooded out.

"Your sister is well?" Char hoped that didn't sound as desperately pleading as it did in his head, though he couldn't even say definitively what he wished for the answer to be. Yes, of course he wants Ella to be healthy and happy. But if she was well without him… Char wasn't sure how he should finish that thought, not even sure if he wanted to. All he knew is that he hasn't been well since she was torn from his life in a few strokes of a quill.

"Olive is over there, Prince Charmont. Did you not dance with her this evening?" Hattie's grin grew large, into a smirk, thinking of how she would rub this fact into her sister's face later this evening. He didn't even notice her.

"No, no. I apologize. I meant your other sister. Ella. How is she? I haven't seen her at these balls." Char chose not to ask about her marriage. If he spoke those words allowed, it would solidify it to him. He wouldn't do it if unnecessary.

"Oh, who is to know? Her poor life is just so uneventful. She simply enjoys spending the days away washing the floor on her hands and knees. How filthy!" Hattie scrunched up her nose as her grip on Charmont somehow tightened on his bicep. She clearly wasn't happy that the topic of Ella came up.

"Does she still live with you?"

"Ye- No, no, no. No, she doesn't live with us anymore. I forget because her… cousin, yes, her cousin, Cinders, is our new scullery maid, and oh, do they look so alike! Almost as if Ella was meant to be a scullery maid, too, if you ask me. Now, Prince Charmont, I would very much prefer we stop talking of my sister."

Char furrowed his eyebrows, ignoring all that Hattie followed with and thinking of the beginning of her sentence. Was Ella truly away living with a husband then?

"I apologize, Lady Hattie. My curiosity has simply gotten the best of me. One last question, and I will be sated. Is that alright?" As his waltzing partner nodded, he continued, "Where does she stay then?"

"Where does she stay?" Hattie's eyes widened, clearly surprised by this question. Her eyes suddenly brightened and a proud smile settled onto her lips. "Well, she was sent to Bast. To live with her mother's family."

"Bast?"

"Yes! You see, she never finished finishing school. My family has tried so hard to teach her the proper ways of women, with my trying the hardest, spending hours on end in an attempt to teach her not to slurp soup like an animal, but we are unable to teach her even the basics. We could only be burdened so much. She is to live with her family in Bast until she can become a proper member of society."

Bast.

Char politely thanked Lady Hattie for answering his questions, tried to listen to her long, winded responses to questions he asked about her to ease the situation, and then politely excused himself from her grasp as the song ended. He almost walked into another guest as he made his way off the dance floor. But all he could do is try to make sense of the one word key that could just solve this puzzle for him.

Bast.

Bast. Ella. Lela. Could it be?

Char jumped slightly as he felt a hand land upon his shoulder. He looked to his right to see his mother smiling at him.

"You don't seem to be very present, Char. Has your mind taken you back to Ayortha?"

"Mother, I think I may have just chosen my bride."

Her mouth opened slightly, before she settled back into the smile that looked identical to the one she had before. It's a skill he blames on her years on the throne. However, this smile felt tighter. And, only because he had known her his whole life, he realized her eyebrows drawn slightly down. Was she… disappointed?

"Oh? And who is the lucky bride?"

"Lady Lela of Bast." Char felt less sure of his words after his mother's reaction, but it had to be Ella. Right?

"She seems like a very nice lass, and you two did seem to get along well. Does this mean the ball tomorrow will serve as your engagement announcement instead?"

"No, I- Mother, I'm not sure, yet. I'm not sure she's the one, yet. Could we perhaps begin to end this ball, instead? I-"

His mother put up a gloved hand up to interrupt him, before lowering it. "The crowd has already begun to file out. I will let the band know their next song will be their last."

"Thank you, Mother."

As his mother began to walk towards the other side of the ballroom, she quietly said something under her breath, and Char wasn't even sure if she meant for him to hear. But there was nobody else it could be intended for.

"A first love can be replaced, but true love cannot."

It felt like a warning. But he had too much on his mind to think about it right now. She was the one who requested these balls be held. She should be ecstatic.

Char shook his head, lightly, and approached the front of the ball room to begin to state his gratitude for his guests. Even if he couldn't focus on the words 'thank you' because the other three were currently clouding his head.

Bast. Ella. Lela.