Author's Note: Warning, super long chapter ahead :D Thanks for reading and as always, reviews make me unbelievably happy :)
"No."
A prison of her own mind was a terrible place to be trapped, Naomi had quickly realized. While there were no guards or torture chambers, she was still being punished. It was her own memories that tortured her.
She tried to tell herself that's what they were, just memories. But when they began, it was almost like they were real, like she was reliving them again.
And, of course, they were never pleasant.
It was starting again, and no matter how much she muttered, "No, no, no," and tried to force her eyes shut, she could see it.
This was one of the most frequent.
She walked into her bedroom. She was tired, having spent the afternoon in a meeting with her father. She couldn't remember what the topic of the meeting was, but she knew that it had been boring and couldn't wait to get out of it.
Naomi shook her head. No, that wasn't true. She'd loved going to meetings with her father, she loved learning how to govern Illéa.
But she could feel her past self's irritation, how antsy she was to get away from the castle.
Was that what it had really been like?
She kicked off her heels and pulled her blonde hair up into a bun. Before she could change into pajamas or pick up her phone to call Ben, the door to her bedroom burst open.
"Namie!"
She rolled her eyes. Lydia was one of the few who refused to let go of her childhood nickname. But her usually scatterbrained younger sister looked oddly serious. "What's up?" Naomi asked.
"Namie, I found it," Lydia whispered. She was clutching a bunch of books and, strangely—even for Lydia—a map in her arms. She dumped them all onto Naomi's bed. A pen that had been holding the place in one of the books skated against her duvet, leaving a mark on the clean white fabric. Anger ebbed at present Naomi, making her feel what she had felt in that moment.
No, she hadn't cared about that, she tried to tell herself. It was just a blanket, she wouldn't hate Lydia for something like that. She tried to tell herself it wasn't real.
In the memory, she picked up one of the books that Lydia had dropped. "Found what?" she asked. Her eyes widened when she saw the title. "Agnimitra's castle?"
Lydia nodded her head excitedly. "I don't know how I didn't see it sooner," she explained. She began outlining the process, her hands jumping to show Naomi all of the signs and dots that she had connected.
"Lydia," Naomi countered in a comforting voice, "No one has found Agnimitra's castle since she disappeared."
"I did," Lydia insisted. "You know how long I've been listening to Hazel's stories, and I've found every mention of Agnimitra. And I told you, I saw it when I was flying, and from above, that grove is so weird, like something was there and just got picked up and moved—"
"Or masked," Naomi added. "With a spell."
"Exactly," beamed Lydia. "This has to be it."
It actually made sense to Naomi, as crazy as Lydia's ideas could be at times. "We should go," Lydia continued.
"Go?" Naomi raised an eyebrow. "Did you miss the stories where Hazel told us how Agnimitra could kill scores of people at once with a wave of her hand?"
Lydia rolled her eyes. "She's been gone for generations," the younger sister countered, "but this could be our chance to find out about the curse, Namie."
Naomi hesitated. "I don't believe in the curse," she countered, dropping the book back onto the bed. "Mom and Dad said it's not real."
"Mom and Dad also told me that Santa Claus was real until I was twelve," Lydia argued. "Not exactly the most trustworthy sources."
"Why would they lie about the curse?" Naomi asked.
Lydia looked flabbergasted. "Why wouldn't they?" she retorted. "How do you tell your kids that? 'Sorry kids, but our family is cursed and has been for generations'?"
Although she always denied it when Lydia brought up the Schreave curse, Naomi had often wondered if their parents were entirely truthful with them about it. It ate at her, and sometimes, she thought she was even more consumed by it than Lydia—her sister just expressed it, while Naomi kept her thoughts hidden. She glanced down at the map.
"Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just check it out," she reasoned. "If we don't find anything about the curse, though, Lyds, you have to drop it. It's probably not healthy to live your life thinking you're cursed."
"Don't worry," Lydia countered brightly. "It's not just me, I think we're all cursed!"
Naomi laughed and rolled her eyes. "Meet me out by the barn around ten tonight," she instructed.
Naomi wrapped her arms around herself on the cold, gray beach. She didn't want to see what came next. But as always, the memory continued, bringing with it all of the regret, anger, and misery.
Lydia had taken to sleeping in the tower with Naomi.
She had arrived one morning to find all three fairies hovering over her sister's body. When she had asked what had happened, Iris had reluctantly told her that Naomi briefly stopped breathing. Iris had assured her that Naomi would be fine—she was, after all, an air fairy, so oxygen fell in her domain—but Lydia couldn't shake the fear that something would happen to Naomi and she wouldn't be there.
"Again?" Hazel asked as she walked into the room. She offered Lydia a cup of tea.
"I can't help it," Lydia admitted. "I'm just so scared."
Hazel sat down in the chair beside Lydia. "Don't be," she countered encouragingly. "Everything is going to be alright."
"It doesn't feel like it right now," the princess sighed.
Hazel studied Lydia for a long moment before she quietly stated, "Lydia, you know I won't let Naomi die, don't you?"
Lydia met the fairy's gaze, a pit of unease growing in her stomach. "What do you mean?"
"I would give Naomi a healing power," Hazel explained, confirming Lydia's fears.
The dread started in Lydia's chest and quickly spread. Desperation clawed at her. "But you'd fade."
Hazel gave a sad smile and simply nodded her head. "Yes."
Lydia could remember the first time Hazel had explained fading to her. Fairies didn't die, at least not by human standards. When the source of their magic was sufficiently drained, they simply faded. Hazel had described it as "becoming one with nature once more." But Lydia had known that it meant basically the same thing as dying, and she dreaded it.
When she was thirteen, Lydia had learned that she was the last Schreave that Hazel would grant a power, for if she tried to imbue a human with magic one more time, she would fade. In some ways, it was part of what made Hazel and Lydia so close: Hazel had one last gift to give, and she'd chosen Lydia.
Pain filled Lydia's chest, the kind of pain that her power couldn't heal. "Hazel, you can't…"
"Not even for Naomi?"
It was an impossible choice between two people that she loved immensely. Tears burned Lydia's eyes. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered.
"I will never leave you," Hazel promised, as she always did whenever they had discussed fading in the past. Even when she had been close with her parents, Lydia's relationship with Hazel had always been different. She had once asked Hazel if the sort of closeness they shared often occurred between fairies and the humans they granted gifts to. With an affectionate smile, Hazel had answered, "No. You're just special."
"Do you think it would even work?" Lydia asked, looking at Naomi's broken body. "I can't heal her."
Turning her gaze to Naomi as well, Hazel explained, "It would be different than you trying to heal her. Instead of being projected onto others, her power would work constantly within herself, using the healing to fight off the effects of Agnimitra's curse."
"So it wouldn't even end the curse," Lydia sighed. It seemed an awfully high price to simply bandage the problem.
"No," Hazel admitted. "But she would be awake and alive."
Lydia didn't know what to say—or even what to feel—so all she could do was grab Hazel's hand, squeezing tightly. After a long silence, Lydia asked, "Is that even possible? To constantly use your power on yourself?"
She wasn't sure, but Lydia thought she felt Hazel's fingers tense. "I've seen it done before," the fairy admitted. Before Lydia could ask any other questions, Hazel stood up. "But try not to worry yet," she instructed, "I still have a few ideas up my sleeves. And besides, don't you have a party you should be getting ready for?"
Lydia groaned. "I forgot about the masquerade."
Hazel laughed. "Wasn't this your idea?"
"Yeah," sighed Lydia, "but I forgot I'd actually have to go."
"Well, I'm sure Rebecca has already taken care of your outfit," Hazel noted, "so all you have to do is show up."
"If only that was all," Lydia grumbled as she pulled herself to her feet. "Will I see you at the ball?" she asked innocently.
"Most likely," Hazel shrugged, "if you can spot me through my mask."
Lydia laughed. "I'd know you anywhere, Hazel."
With one last glance at her sister, Lydia left the tower and started back to her room. Even though it was barely time for breakfast, Bex was already waiting in Lydia's room. "Where were you?" Bex demanded. Her face brightened. "Were you on a date?! Ugh, please don't tell me it was with Joey—"
Lydia laughed. "Chill out," she instructed, "I just went to get a cup of tea. Also, why would I be on a date at eight in the morning?"
"You know that's what you have maids for, right?" Bex asked with an arched eyebrow.
Lydia almost laughed at her friend's failure to notice that she didn't have a teacup in hand, but instead asked, "So, what's up? This is early for you."
"I know," Bex groaned. She flopped dramatically onto Lydia's bed. "But we have a ball to get ready for!"
This time, Lydia did laugh. "Bex, we have like nine hours before we have to be ready."
"I know," Bex lamented. "Short time, really, if we're going to dye your hair green."
"What?" squawked Lydia.
"Not like gross, swamp monster green," Bex continued in a reassuring voice, "but a tasteful emerald."
Lydia's eyes bulged in surprise. There were few things that Bex loved more than a theme party, but this was a bit far for Lydia. "Sorry, B, I'm gonna have to veto that one."
"Lyd, it's necessary," Bex tried. "It'll make your costume."
"I don't have eight hours to dye my hair a 'tasteful emerald,'" Lydia countered. "I have plans."
Bex's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah? With who?"
"Creed Rosario," Lydia answered.
"The cruise director," Bex recalled, "Must've been hard to plan that date."
Lydia frowned. "What makes you say that?"
"I mean, the guy literally goes on cruises like every day of his life," Bex pointed out. "A regular old trip to the movies or something must seem boring."
Lydia's stomach gave a nervous turn. She hadn't even gone as far as planning a trip to the movies. "Right…"
Bex turned a calculating gaze on Lydia. "You didn't plan a single thing, did you?"
"I did!" Lydia countered. Bex didn't look convinced. "I did," the princess insisted, "I told the kitchen to pack breakfast for us so we could have a picnic."
"You poor, naïve thing," sighed Bex. "Lydia, feeding someone a meal that they were already going to eat is not a date."
Lydia's eyebrows scrunched together. "That is not true at all, Bex," she countered. "People go on dinner dates all the time."
"Yeah, lazy dudes who live in their mom's basements and are only trying to get their nagging girlfriends off their asses go on dinner dates," agreed Bex. "Are you a lazy dude?"
"You are crazy," Lydia decided. "N—"
She froze. Naomi loved when Ben took her on food dates. It was true, but it was something she couldn't point out to Bex. Like everyone else, Bex didn't remember Naomi. "Now get out," Lydia instructed, forcing her tone to be playful. "I have to find a perfectly boring outfit for my apparently perfectly boring date."
"If you won't do green hair, I'm at least going to make you a headpiece," Bex decided. "And make sure you're back by one at the latest so we can start getting ready!"
Lydia assured her she would before she locked the door behind Bex and started to get ready for her breakfast with Creed. It was still weird to think about the time she was spending with all of the Selected as dates, but she figured she owed it to them to at least try—even though the Selection would be over as soon as Naomi woke up.
One of the biggest adjustments for Lydia during the Selection was the pressure to look put together. She had always known how to dress for events—and if she didn't, she was usually directed—but in her everyday life, she'd never had much of a style. It was something that Bex reminded her of frequently. Naomi had always said she'd grow into it, but Lydia was pretty sure she'd missed out on the fashion gene.
She tried her best, but she usually just went back to things that she felt comfortable in. The weather in Angeles was still warm, and the temperature would only increase as the morning went on. She threw on a white t-shirt, tucked it into a pair of olive green shorts, and grabbed a pair of brown sandals. She gave her hair a rough towel dry and pinned it back, deciding to let it dry in its usual messy waves. Bex could deal with it later that evening when they were getting ready. As always, she secured her starfish necklace around her neck.
One of her maids delivered the basket that she had requested the kitchen prepare for her, and she blushed when she saw the note that Tom had written on a napkin and affixed to the outside: Have fun on your date! Go get em, tiger! She laughed and shoved the crumpled note into her pocket.
Creed was waiting in the entrance hall like she'd requested, and he looked excited but a little nervous as Lydia made her way down the stairs. "Good morning," she smiled brightly.
"Good morning, Your Highness," he greeted her, giving a slight bow.
"Oh, gosh, please don't," Lydia requested. "Lydia is fine, and bowing makes me really uncomfortable."
"Really?" he asked, sounding surprised. "I just thought you'd be used to it after… you know, your whole life."
It hadn't been Lydia's whole life though. She'd been so young when Naomi had been the crown princess that she had rarely gone to engagements without one of her parents, and they usually got all the bows. And she hadn't had that many responsibilities to begin with. It made her uncomfortable to feel like people owed her some kind of physical show of her respect.
"Thanks for joining me," Lydia beamed, changing the subject. "Bex said that breakfast might not be the most exciting thing to do, but I love breakfast food, so I hoped you might think this was all okay."
"Thank you for inviting me," Creed countered politely, "It's just cool to get to hang out with you."
"Really?" Lydia asked, her eyebrows raised.
"Of course," Creed shrugged. "That's why we're all here."
"So weird," she chuckled.
"That people would want to spend time with their princess?" Creed laughed.
That was exactly it. Because she wasn't their princess.
"Kind of," she shrugged. "Anyway, do you want to get going?" She held up the picnic basket.
"Let me," Creed offered. Lydia gratefully handed him the basket. "Where to?"
She led him outside. "I wanted to show you one of my favorite places on the grounds," she explained.
Eventually, they stopped at a somewhat rundown structure that resembled a barn. Creed looked surprised. "Are you a big animal fan?" he asked.
"Kind of," Lydia shrugged with a laugh, "but it's not an animal barn." She grabbed one of the heavy barn doors and threw all of her strength into pulling it open. Slowly, the door slid open.
The barn was old and had stood on the castle grounds since before Lydia was born. There were a few windows, the glass panes of which had long disappeared, that let light spill in. In the middle of the barn sat an old plane. It was inoperable now, but it had been the first plane she'd ever flown in as a child. Her grandfather's only sibling, her great aunt Princess Violetta, had been an avid flier herself, and she'd indulged Lydia's interest, to Ezra and Collette's dismay. They were always terrified when Violetta flew off with Lydia in tow.
Creed looked a little nervous. "Are we going somewhere?" he asked.
Lydia laughed. "Just to the hay loft," she countered, directing him towards a set of stairs.
She spread a blanket before they sat down. They started unloading the picnic basket, and Creed decided to have a bagel with lox, while Lydia munched on a quiche and some strawberries. "So how'd you find this place?" Creed asked as he glanced around the barn.
"Oh, I used to fly," Lydia explained. "My great aunt got me into it. That's the first plane I ever flew."
Creed looked shocked. "Really?"
"Really," she confirmed with a nod.
"I've never heard you talk about it before," he replied.
She realized she never had, at least not to the public. "I guess it just never really came up," she admitted. "It was always just sort of my own thing." The thing that she had loved the most.
It made her sad to neglect something she cared about so much, but there was no way she could justify flying when she needed to save Naomi. She pushed the sadness away and turned her attention to Creed. "So now that you know something semi-secret about me, it's your turn," she declared.
Creed looked hesitant. "Even a small secret is good," Lydia offered as reassurance.
"I love the movie Tangled," Creed finally declared, causing Lydia to giggle.
"Really?" she asked. He nodded in confirmation. "Well, it is a good one," she assured him.
"I saw it the first time during one of our kids nights on the ship," he explained, a nostalgic smile on his face. "A little girl said to me, 'It's got a princess who beats people up with a frying pan, what more could you want?' And I realized she was totally right."
Lydia laughed again, much louder this time. "I should up my game," she noted.
"I think in real life I much prefer not having to deal with the threat of a frying pan," he countered.
"That's fair," she agreed. "That kind of reminds me. I wanted to ask how you're all getting along?"
Creed looked surprised that she would ask about such a thing, but it was something Lydia often thought about. The Selected had all been thrown together into the weird situation of falling in love with one person that they would ultimately have to give up the life they had known for. Naomi had always said she was so glad she had Ben, because she would've hated to host a Selection, and Lydia could understand why her sister had been so against it.
"It's fine," he assured her. "There are some… interesting personalities, of course, but for the most part, I think we're all handling it well. Pascal keeps everyone pretty lighthearted, and it's impossible not to smile when Skadi is around."
"Well, I'm glad it's not awful," she smiled. "And you know, thanks for being here."
He returned her smile. "Thanks for keeping me around."
"What's it like being a cruise director?" Lydia asked abruptly. "It sounds so… I don't know, free. Adventurous."
Creed laughed. "It is, kind of," he admitted. "It's all I've ever really known. My mom worked on a ship since I was little."
"You must have been to so many places and met so many people," Lydia noted, her voice a little wistful.
Creed nodded. "That part is great."
"Are there not so great parts?" Lydia asked.
"I think there is with everything," Creed chuckled. "The ship can just be a little… isolating from the rest of the world. I was a little worried how I'd be able to deal with being stationary and living with normal people."
"'Normal' is probably a stretch for anyone at the castle," Lydia snorted.
"Relatively normal," Creed amended.
She continued to ask questions about the places he'd been to. She found out that one of his favorite locations was a small island in the South Pacific, that he knew several languages because of all of the different people that he met on the ships, and briefly heard about his closest friends. She noticed he seemed to steer clear of the topic of his mother though, and she didn't press him.
Eventually, when the picnic basket was empty and she had a feeling Bex would be searching for her soon, she suggested they return to the castle. Before they parted, Creed hesitantly turned back towards her. "Would you, uh, save me a dance tonight at the masquerade?" he asked.
Lydia's cheeks flushed. "Of course," she smiled. Creed looked relieved, and they headed towards their respective floors.
When Lydia entered her room, she was unsurprised to find Bex waiting for her. "I didn't think about the fact that I'm technically going to have over two dozen dates to this ball tonight," she noted.
"Ugh, so jealous," Bex sighed. "Also, what on earth did you do to your hair? Thank god I brought hair and makeup."
Somehow, Bex managed to turn getting ready into a full, four hour affair. Lydia didn't complain too much, because Bex considered a massage as part of the preparation. She also had to be grateful, because Bex had outdone herself with Lydia's costume.
Lydia had told Bex that she wanted her costume to essentially be a woodland fairy. It was partially as a nod to Hazel, and partially to appease Hazel's anger when she realized that Lydia had invited fire fairies into the castle. Bex had come up with a green and gold gown with gold, leaf-like appliques. Lydia's mask was mostly green with golden flowers and vines. Bex had also managed to come up with a pair of green and gold leaf-like earrings. Lydia's hair (which remained its usual brownish blonde instead of emerald) was pulled into a casual updo, and a sprig of green and gold jewels that almost resembled moss dripped from it.
However, Lydia also had a mission during the masquerade, so she had instructed Bex to make her dress much more extravagant than Lydia's. Though she had been confused, Bex complied. She had chosen a gold, embellished gown for herself that faded into a white feathered skirt. Her mask had the same gold fade into white feathers, and specks of gold adorned her brown hair.
Because it was a masquerade, she was able to sneak in with Bex without any fanfare or being announced. "Catch you later," she mumbled to her friend before she made a beeline across the room for Tallulah. She faltered when she realized who Tallulah was talking to but forced herself to keep going anyway. She was going to have to talk to them at some point, she reasoned.
She forced her mouth into a smile as she greeted them. "Your Highnesses."
"Princess Lydia," beamed Jia. "Thank you so much for suggesting this evening for us. It was so kind and generous of you."
Lydia felt a tiny bit guilty. She was neither of those things. "It's my pleasure," she replied. "How are you enjoying Angeles?"
"It's wonderful!" Jia beamed. "Ben has been showing me the sights. He took me to the most wonderful little café on the beach yesterday."
Lydia felt like she had been punched. She knew exactly what café Jia was talking about. It was tiny, tucked away, nothing that Ben would have stumbled upon on his own.
It was also one of Naomi's favorite places in Angeles.
Her eyes jumped to Ben. She was positive that he hadn't recognized her at the garden party. Was it possible that he could be remembering? Some foreign countries, like Italy, had far better histories with their fairy population than Illéa. Occasionally, it meant that their powers were stronger, because they'd been receiving them willingly for far longer.
And if that was the case, she needed to be careful. Because Ben's power alerted him when people were lying to him. If it was stronger than she had suspected…
"How did you find that?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.
Ben shrugged. "We just happened on it," he explained. "I think I might've visited it once on a prior visit."
"It's a great place," Lydia admitted, a sadness washing over her. She had spent hours there with Naomi and Ben, at their favorite table overlooking the ocean. They'd once stayed from early afternoon until nightfall. It had been such a great day that she had taken for granted at the time.
She forced the smile back onto her face. "Would you mind if I borrowed Tallulah for a minute?" she asked.
"Not at all," Ben assured her. "We hope to see you later, Your Highness. It's a shame we haven't gotten to speak much."
"I'm sorry," Lydia replied. "It's been busy with the Selection. But you certainly will."
As she pulled Tallulah away, she made a mental note to add Ben to the list of people she was avoiding. If he could see through the façade that they had concocted in Illéa, she couldn't be around him. She didn't need any suspicion. "Do you think he knows?" she whispered desperately to Tallulah.
"Of course not," Tallulah countered, putting a reassuring hand on Lydia's shoulder. She gestured to the dance floor, where Ben was leading Jia through a waltz. "He would not be that happy with his new fiancée if he knew. You know how much Ben loved—"
She cut herself off. "Loves," she corrected herself. "You know how much he loves Naomi."
Lydia wasn't convinced, and Tallulah could clearly tell. "Hazel cast the spell herself, Lydia," she reminded her. "There's no way Ben knows."
Lydia nodded. Tallulah had a point. There was no way Ben's power could possibly rival Hazel's spell. She refocused her attention. "Are they here?" she asked, glancing around eagerly.
"Not yet," Tallulah replied. "Why don't you try to enjoy yourself for a little bit?" she suggested. "I promise I'll find you when they arrive."
Lydia sighed. "I suppose I should make my rounds," she admitted.
"Please try to have fun," Tallulah repeated. Lydia gave a noncommittal grumble and made her way to the bar. She didn't love alcohol, but a glass of champagne to pull her back from the ledge of anxiety that she seemed to be toeing was necessary.
She collected her glass and paused as she inspected the ballroom. Her parents were talking to some ambassadors, so there was no way she was going over there. Some of the Selected had gathered around a table and were sampling the assortment of hors d'oeuvres, so she supposed she could start there. She stood alone a minute longer, sipping her champagne. Her eyes wandered back to Ben and Jia on the dancefloor.
They looked so happy. But Ben had been happy with Naomi. When they broke the curse, someone was going to end up heartbroken. After all she had been through, Lydia just hoped it wasn't Naomi.
"Do you dislike Princess Jia?" a voice asked.
She tore her eyes away from them to find Alistair beside her. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit, a metallic black mask covering his eyes. "I-I don't dislike her," she admitted, "I suppose I just don't know her."
"Do you know him?" he asked, nodding at Ben.
She should've lied. But she didn't want to, and so she admitted, "I used to."
Alistair didn't ask any more questions, but Lydia added, "The friend that I told you about, she and Ben…"
A lump caught in her throat and stopped her. She raised her champagne glass to her lips and tried to swallow it away.
"Sometimes, you look sad when you think no one's looking," Alistair noted.
Shame washed over her. She tried so hard to hide it all. "So do you," she pointed out.
"I suppose I am," Alistair admitted.
"Me too," Lydia agreed.
They stood together in silence for a long moment before Alistair added, "You're not quite what I expected."
"Disappointed?" Lydia asked, turning her gaze to him. She tried so hard to be the person she used to be, to make everyone think she was as bubbly and cheerful as ever. She tried so hard that sometimes she convinced herself that everyone believed her. She hadn't realized she was failing.
All Alistair replied was, "No." Then, he gave her the smallest half smile and walked away.
Lydia finished her glass of champagne alone before she decided to approach the group of Selected she had spotted earlier. Before she could though, she noticed Rowan Dagwood approaching her. She put her mask back on, smiling warmly at home. "Your Highness," Rowan greeted her with a small bow.
"Sir Rowan," she replied. She realized she hadn't spent much time with him yet, and didn't know much about him other than what she had discovered in his entry form.
"Is it okay if I ask you to dance?" Rowan asked. "I'm not sure if that's… you know, okay or not."
She laughed. "It's fine," she assured him, "and I would love to."
While she and Cohen had both had a much more traditional education than Naomi's specialized one, they were still versed in the basics of being a prince and princess. Dancing lessons had been mandatory, and one thing that Lydia had actually enjoyed.
Rowan was at least comfortable enough on the dancefloor to strike up a conversation. "You look beautiful," he noted.
She laughed, a little uncomfortable. The compliments had generally been reserved for Naomi at these sort of events. "Thank you. It's all Bex's magic."
"I think you have a lot more to do with it than you're giving yourself credit for," he countered with a smile.
"You clean up pretty well yourself," she replied, trying to take the attention off of herself.
"It was really nice of you to plan this for Prince Benedetto and Princess Jia," Rowan told her. "Are you close with them?"
"Not really," Lydia admitted. "But you know, foreign relations. Anyway, how are you liking Angeles?"
"It's a little different than my life in Belcourt," he admitted with a chuckle.
"I love Belcourt," she noted. "The mountains are stunning." She remembered the first time she'd flown over them. It had taken her breath away.
"There's some great hiking trails," he agreed. "I imagine you have some good ones here in Angeles, too."
"There are some that are nice," she admitted, "Mostly near the coast."
"I'd love to try one of those out sometime," Rowan replied.
"We should," Lydia shrugged. "We'll make a day of it."
"Just say the word when," he agreed with a smile.
"I will," Lydia promised. Their dance ended, and she took a minute to grab a snack. The convenient group that she had seen before had disbanded, and before she could decide who to seek out next, Tallulah appeared at her side with a man that Lydia didn't know.
She realized who it must be and almost choked on her sugar and gluten free cupcake. "Lydia, this is Castor," Tallulah introduced.
Castor started to bow, but Lydia took his hand and shook it energetically. "I am so happy to meet you," she beamed.
Castor looked both surprised and amused. "It's wonderful to meet you, Your Highness. Thank you for this kind invitation."
He wasn't very tall, about the same height as Lydia in the ridiculous heels that Bex had forced her into. He was dressed in a charcoal suit and mask. The blandness of his mask emphasized how startling blue his eyes were. "Tallulah has been a little vague about what it's exactly for," he noted with a chuckle.
"And I promise that I will explain everything as soon as I can," Lydia insisted. "It's a little… complicated for a ball."
"Of course," Castor agreed. He was so good natured that Lydia instantly felt she had made the right decision in inviting him to the palace.
Lydia hesitated before she confessed, "Just so you know… Hazel doesn't exactly know that I've invited you."
Castor's mouth formed a small 'o.' "I hope our presence doesn't cause any trouble."
"It won't!" Lydia assured him. "You are my guests, so don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I just thought it might be better to talk to Hazel once you were here, so she couldn't…"
"Cast a protective spell to keep any and all fire fairies out?" Castor suggested with a chuckle.
Lydia wanted to assure him that that was overboard, but knowing Hazel, she couldn't. "Something like that," she admitted. "But please, enjoy yourself tonight! Tallulah can show you to your rooms if you'd like to relax, and tomorrow I promise we'll talk."
"I look forward to it, Your Highness," Castor smiled.
Tallulah swept him away just in time. A moment later, Hazel appeared. "Who is Tallulah's guest?" she asked, already looking suspicious.
"Hazel!" Lydia beamed. Her palms began to sweat with nervousness, and she wiped them on the sides of her dress before she grabbed it, swishing the skirt around. "How do you like my costume?" she asked. "I'm a woodland fairy!"
Hazel eyes were still locked on Castor. "He's familiar," she noted, "Any idea who he is?"
"None," Lydia lied. "Just met him. Oh look, Gabriel's waving at me. Better go, bye!"
Hazel called after her as she zoomed across the room towards Gabriel, who had certainly not been waving at her. She actually had to tap him on the shoulder and interrupt his conversation to get his attention. "Hi, I'm in trouble, dance with me?" she asked.
Gabriel laughed but agreed. "What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?" he asked.
He wasn't as graceful of a dancer as Rowan, and Lydia had to lead a bit. "I invited some people Hazel isn't overly fond of," she explained vaguely.
Gabriel whistled. "She kind of scares me," he confessed.
Lydia laughed. "She's the best," she assured Gabe. "She's just kind of… used to things being a certain way." Hazel had stopped staring at her, so Lydia relaxed a little. Then, she realized she hadn't been alone with Gabriel since they had kissed at the lake, and her shoulders tensed up again.
"You seem a little on edge tonight," Gabriel guessed.
"I think you make me a little nervous," she giggled.
"Me?" Gabriel sounded shocked. "You know I'm just a farm hand from Midston, right?"
"I think you're a lot more than that," Lydia countered.
Before Gabriel could reply, a man tapped him, interrupting their dance. "May I cut in?" he asked.
Gabriel looked disappointed but agreed. Lydia gave him an apologetic smile before turning to her new dance partner. "Castor?" she asked, her eyebrows knit. He wasn't wearing the same mask as earlier, but she knew that the eyes behind it were the same.
He took her hand and swept her back into the waltz. "Uriel," he corrected her. "A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."
"Oh!" Lydia smiled warmly. "It's so nice to meet you too. I'm so sorry, I spoke with Castor earlier, and the two of you look… remarkably alike."
"We get that often," Uriel noted. She wasn't surprised. Perhaps it would be more obvious without the masks, but between the similarity in their stature, facial features, dark hair, and their identical eyes, she would've guessed they were twins.
"Thank you so much for coming," Lydia added.
"It's our pleasure, I assure you," he insisted. "I am very intrigued as to the reason for your invitation though, Your Highness. Mistress Tallulah was very vague in her explanation."
Lydia tried not to panic. For some reason, lying to Uriel felt a lot harder than lying to Castor. "I think that the palace has been a little too hands off with the fire community," she explained. "I just wanted to extend an invitation and get to know you and learn a little more about fire fairies."
"You aren't afraid?" Uriel asked. Admittedly, his question did send a shiver down her spine, because until now, Lydia hadn't considered that she should be.
Nevertheless, she answered confidently, "No."
"I'm sure Mistress Hazel has told you that you can't trust fire fairies," he noted. "I'm not shocked you've invited Castor—everyone loves my brother—but I am perplexed as to why I'm here."
"I don't really go off of rumors," Lydia protested. "I mean, rumor has it I'm cursed, right?"
To her surprise, Uriel laughed. "I'm surprised you know," he noted, "I think most people have forgotten about that… rumor."
Before Lydia could press further, someone tapped Uriel's arm, interrupting their waltz. "May I?" Fallon asked.
Uriel stepped away from Lydia and gave a polite smile. "Of course. I look forward to speaking with you further, Your Highness."
Fallon held his hand out to her to resume the dance, and Lydia took it, even though she was somewhat nervous that Fallon would struggle with dancing because of his leg. "Who was that?" he asked, his face hard.
For a moment, Lydia felt like she should lie. The Selected weren't pleased the last time she'd invited a man to be her guest at the palace, and now, she'd invited two more.
But she didn't want to lie to Fallon. Or any of the Selected, really. She was already lying about so much that it made her feel ill to think about adding to that list. "His name is Uriel," she admitted.
"Is he a friend?" Fallon asked.
Lydia hesitated. "He's a guest," she replied carefully.
"Seems to be a lot of those showing up lately," Fallon noted. He didn't sound jealous, but there was still something about his tone that made Lydia feel like she needed to justify herself.
But she couldn't think of how to explain it without just explaining it, so before she could help herself, she blurted out, "He's a fire fairy."
Lydia hadn't realized it was possible for Fallon's face to grow any more serious, but somehow, it did. He stopped dancing and took her hand before pulling her over to—of all people—Joey, who was lingering on the edge of the room with Baloo. "Well?" Joey demanded of Fallon.
"She invited a fire fairy," Fallon explained.
Joey's eyes bulged before he pinched the bridge of his nose, like he'd developed an instant headache. "Okay, first of all," Lydia began, "I never would have guessed that you two were friends."
"We're not," Fallon assured her.
"Second of all, why are you guys acting so crazy?" she continued.
"Look, Lydia," Fallon sighed. "Sometimes, I get these feelings."
Before Lydia could respond, Cohen materialized out of thin air beside her. Lydia jumped, Fallon reached for his hip like he forgot he was no longer in the military and armed, and Joey spilled his drink. "Like the romantic kind?" he asked wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Fallon glared at the prince. "Like the foreboding sensations of death and destruction kind."
Cohen raised his eyebrows. "Wow, this is definitely not what I thought I was walking into," he noted. "I'm gonna go now."
After she was sure that her brother had in fact departed, Lydia turned back to Fallon. "Did something like that happen today?"
"Yeah," Fallon confirmed. "Right before that guy started dancing with you."
Lydia frowned. "How can you know it was about Uriel though?"
"I saw his eyes," Fallon explained. "My power is a sort of premonition. And a lot of the time it's just how I feel, but sometimes, I can see things, and I know I saw his eyes."
Lydia didn't feel convinced, and her face must have reflected it, because Fallon added, "It's not just me, Joey has a similar power, and he felt it too."
Lydia turned her gaze to Joey. "Really?" She was surprised he hadn't mentioned his power to her until now.
"Well, kinda," Joey admitted, scratching the back of his head. "It's not as put together as G.I. Joe's over here. Most of the time I just feel like I'm gonna hurl, and then something bad happens."
Lydia's frown deepened. One overprotective Selected she could write off. But two…
"Look, I appreciate your concern," she began, forcing a smile, "but there has to be a better explanation. Castor and Uriel are here to help me."
Joey and Fallon exchanged incredulous looks again. "Two?" Joey demanded. "You invited two fire fairies?" Lydia crossed her arms, indignant. Joey turned to Fallon. "She's nuts."
"Part of the reason I did it is because Illéa needs to get over its prejudice towards fire fairies," she declared. It was a lie as to her motivation, but a valid point on its own.
Before Joey could go off again, Fallon replied, "That's an admirable cause, Your Highness. But please, be careful."
"You both have nothing to worry about it," she insisted with a smile.
"Oh, I'm not worried," Joey declared, snagging another drink from a passing waiter. "I know this is a bad idea, and I'm not even gonna get involved. Just gonna be here, waiting for the chips to fall, you know, all over the place." He nodded at Fallon. "He's the one that's worried."
Fallon looked annoyed by Joey but didn't refute his claim. Lydia gave his hand a quick squeeze. "Please don't worry," she requested with a smile. "Everything's going to be fine."
At least, she hoped it was.