A few of you made some amazing guesses as to what would happen, or mentioned things you were looking forward to. Sorry to say, I didn't always deliver. Here's hoping that this chapter satisfies you regardless.

Happy Valentine's Day to all, and as always, thank you so much for sticking around and reading (and commenting on) these random fics I write.

"What do you mean I have to get married?" Mathias demanded.

"Francis didn't have to get married," Leon pointed out. He glanced at the man in overly flamboyant gold clothing, who was looking out the window at the garden that was now Mathias's.

"Francis didn't go around buying titles for himself the moment he came into giants' money," said Arthur sharply.

"Not that I would have minded the spouse with a title, cher." Francis gave a quick wink to Arthur, who flushed. Mathias was slowly beginning to understand what Leon had meant by "they'll be busy for a while" when they finally reunited.

"So how about we back up and you tell me why I have to marry?" Mathias interrupted. For emphasis, he put his hands on his new writing desk. He raised his eyebrows at Arthur and Leon sat before him on separate chairs, and glanced at Francis near the window. He already felt out of place in this study, but it was his now, bought with the lordship.

"Well, that's how it goes in the nobility of this country," said Arthur. "If you're a lord, you need a lady. One manages the accounts, the other the house and maybe a few charity projects."

"A…lady." Mathias was blanching already. There was only one person he could even consider marrying, and that person would never pass as a woman. No matter how beautiful he was, no matter how sweet his voice.

Not to mention that, as always, he was jumping the gun when it came to Lukas. When he was younger, he'd assumed they'd be friends until they died. Then, when Lukas had told him—reluctantly, meekly—that he was a wizard, Mathias had decided they'd be friends even after death, due to some magic he was sure Lukas would arrange. But in the end he hadn't even been able to promise they'd see each other in the forest, let alone in school, and now Lukas's younger brother had been Mathias's for four years and Lukas was still indentured, and Mathias wouldn't fault him if Lukas took one look around his town as a free man and decided to leave.

And Mathias would let him, but that didn't stop him from hoping that Lukas might reconsider once he saw that Mathias…

What? Loved him? Could he even say that, having only glimpsed him a few times since they first re-met as adults?

But at the thought of marrying someone, his heart only gave one name.

Arthur was looking at Mathias strangely. "I don't suppose you have someone in mind."

"Probably Emil's brother," said Leon, examining his nails.

"What—how did you—?" Mathias gaped.

Leon glanced up, and mimicked a too-deep voice that was supposed to be Mathias's. "'So, uh, Emil, did your brother have a lot of friends? Like, in town? Emil, what did he do in his free time? Does he still like the woods? What about books?'"

Mathias glared. Leon was now eighteen years old in human years, and he didn't seem to want anyone to forget that by experience, he was the oldest person in the room.

"Well," said Arthur before Mathias could retort, "I certainly don't see any problem on the mage side of things, as we've always been a people with more…" His eyes flickered to Francis. "Varied tastes. But on the non-mage side, I believe you'll face some challenges."

"Like?" asked Mathias.

"Well, for one thing, he's a man."

"What about Lord Braginsky in the next province over? He just recently married his former servant, Alfred. I mean yeah, it was a scandal, but no one revolted."

"Hm, maybe so. But Alfred isn't a mage."

"So?"

"So, can you imagine the backlash if you married one?"

Mathias thought of how willing his home village was to chop down the beanstalk once he'd hinted that a wizard might harm them from above. He could only imagine how they would handle a wizard nobleman, even one in the role of "lady" instead of "lord".

"No, we need to be as impartial about this as possible," said Arthur, already furrowing his brows in scheming. "Maybe a random selection, or a contest…"

"Or a 'chance encounter' that turns out to be fated," Francis jutted in. "Who says that Mathias cannot be with the one he loves?"

"I mean," said Mathias, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm not sure love is the word I would use—"

"Interest, then, or romance!" Francis seemed downright eager at the thought of it. He turned to Arthur, suddenly matter-of-fact. "We need a ball."

"We don't need a bloody ball, we need a solution!"

"The ball is the solution, mon chou!"

"Don't call me a cabbage, frog."

"Don't turn me into a frog again, then, cabbage!"

"What is this ball solving?"

The four men in the room turned to find Emil walking through the doorway. At sixteen years old he was resembling his brother more every day, although every time Mathias would try to mention something, Emil would mutter something about how he was mistaken. Emil knew Mathias thought Lukas was handsome, and seemed not to share the same opinion of himself. But, through Arthur's and now Francis's tutelage, he was growing into his own as a surprisingly powerful wizard. Mathias made sure to comment on his skills too, though of his immediate circle of friends and family, he was the person who least understood Emil's magic.

Emil looked between the four of them, and then seemed to settle on Leon for the most complete explanation.

"Mathias needs to marry," said Leon in his nearly trademark evenness, "and he clearly wants to marry Lukas, but Lukas is a mage and Mathias doesn't want to say he's in love with someone he's barely talked to since they were kids."

Emil snorted. "And the ball?"

"Francis?" Leon turned to Francis, who had steadily stepped closer to Arthur in his argument and looked halfway to either hitting or kissing him.

"Right." Francis straightened his clothing and looked around Mathias's new study, as if reminding himself that he was in a noble setting. "We must make this ball the most magnificent one in living memory. A full orchestra, gold décor, and of course foods from my home—"

"Because?" intoned Arthur.

"Because we will be promoting the name and power of our new Lord Mathias Kohler, and hosting every eligible lad and maiden in the land for the honor of becoming his lady."

The others stared at Francis in silence.

"That's ridiculous," Leon said.

"That's quite possibly the most expensive way we could do this," said Arthur.

"But it could work."

"See? At least one mage believes in me," Francis said, gesturing to Emil in gratitude.

"You think so?" Mathias swiveled to look at Emil. He'd been too cautious to hope such a flamboyant plan could work, but if Emil, a mage and Lukas's brother, thought they had a chance to…

Save Lukas, was probably Emil's priority, and it was Mathias's too. But marry Lukas may not have been a bad addition.

"I think so," said Emil, and he looked at Mathias levelly. "But the plan needs a few extra steps."

Lukas was twenty-three years old and quickly losing hope.

All correspondence went through Aldrich, so if Mathias had sent any word that Emil was safe, if not living with him, Lukas had no way of hearing about it without letting Aldrich know too. Ever since Aldrich had realized that Emil was gone for good, he'd roped one of his own sons into accompanying Lukas to town each day. The only time Lukas was unsupervised was when he was in the potions shack.

The only saving grace Lukas had was that Aldrich still didn't know Emil was a mage. If he'd known that, his casual search for a lost son would have turned into a manhunt. And he had power on his side. Aldrich was becoming busier, having more meetings, and more carefully counting the money Lukas brought in. Lukas suspected a growing side business that he frankly wanted no part in.

He'd seen Mathias only three times in the four years since he'd sent Emil to him. The first time, only a few weeks after Emil had left, Lukas had been with Ludwig, so he could afford a full minute of distraction as Mathias stood at his carver's stall and made desperate eye contact. He mouthed things, but Lukas couldn't make them out. He only surmised that Emil was well and Mathias was concerned, and that was all he needed to know, so he turned away before Ludwig could notice who had drawn his attention.

The second time, Lukas had been accompanied by Gilbert, who was loudly chatting with a friend of his in town while Lukas stood waiting a respectable distance behind him. Lukas was the first to see Mathias, setting up his cart with a thinness and a weariness that mismatched Lukas's memories of him.

Lukas knew that stance, that hunger. Mathias was giving his food to Emil, just as Lukas had done before him.

Something clenched his heart, something warm and yet painful. The ache of love he already recognized and nursed when it arrived, but this new feeling was shame. Lukas had placed a burden on one of the only people in his life who didn't deserve it.

When Gilbert ended his conversation and summoned him along before Mathias could look up, Lukas was almost glad.

The third time, a year and some months after Emil's disappearance, Mathias whistled to get Lukas's attention.

He was with Gilbert again, but Gilbert was trying to flirt up the flower peddler and had no intention of stopping for a mere whistle, so Lukas was the one to look up. Mathias still looked tired and hungry, but with a happiness about him that he hadn't had that day in the rain. He only looked at Lukas and smiled.

Emil is okay, Lukas hoped he meant to say. Going to school like you wanted. He's happy.

Of course, there were other things he wanted. For Emil to learn about his wizard background, more than Lukas had. For Emil to be loved. And secretly, in that quiet part of him that was shaped like Emil's old space on the bed, Lukas wanted most of all to be there with them—with Emil and Mathias, doing every chore he'd done for Aldrich but now for himself and for the people he loved.

With those dreams in mind, unguarded for just a second, Lukas had smiled back.

Then Mathias stopped coming to the village.

It began around the time the beanstalk in the sky popped up near Mathias's village. Lukas could see it in the horizon if he went to the far end of his family's land and peered over the trees. The beanstalk disappeared into a layer of clouds that never disappeared, no matter how sunny the day became.

But as quickly as it appeared, the beanstalk was gone, leaving a sight in the morning that most people had forgotten by sundown. If it weren't for the tremor of the beanstalk's collapse that rattled Lukas's potion bottles, he might have thought he'd dreamt the beanstalk too.

He didn't think to worry about Mathias or Emil until Mathias stopped coming to the village market. But as weeks turned to months and the wood carver from the neighboring village never came, Lukas's concern turned to worry, and worry to dread.

How many houses had been crushed when that beanstalk fell?

He became desperate enough to ask Ludwig, who—of the three men in the house—seemed to distrust him least.

"The beanstalk mostly landed in the forest," Ludwig said, disgruntled to be interrupted from the book he was studying from. He took another bite from his lunch as Lukas scrubbed dishes at the sink. "I'd imagine anyone who lived there might have been in danger."

Lukas dropped the dish he'd been cleaning.

A year after the beanstalk's fall, Lukas still hadn't seen Mathias. He dared to ask around about the woodcarver whenever one of his "brothers" wasn't listening, but no one in the village seemed to remember his name or even what he looked like, he'd come so infrequently. And only the politest had thought to ask how Emil was doing.

Lukas didn't know anymore.

He refused to think they were dead. As stunted as his magic had become, as much of it as he poured into potions, he swore he would have felt some sort of immense pain if his brother had died. He'd felt it when Mother passed, after all, he and Emil both. But whether Emil was alive or not said nothing about Mathias, and now he had no way to find out about either of them.

At this point, he was carrying on with his life for lack of other options.

Things changed, distantly. A new lord came into ownership of the province, some boy who'd come into money. One of the new lord's first policies was a hefty tax on moneylenders, and Aldrich now spent more time at cafes with other older businessmen, muttering and wondering what else the young lord might do that would ruin their savings. As a result, Aldrich became considerably less scrupulous of what money Lukas brought in.

Lukas started saving the smallest coins first. He hid them in the same chest where he kept the pictures Emil had drawn him as a child and the one portrait he had of his mother. He'd set Emil free four years ago; now, with the chance to finally earn some money for himself, it was his turn.

Hypothetically, it was simple. Walk the same forest path Emil had, approach Mathias's house (or what was left of it), and trace whatever path he found there to find Emil (and maybe Mathias, he desperately hoped for Mathias) and take his younger brother and flee. Aldrich would pursue him, so he'd need a spurt of distance, and to travel that far required money.

And a distraction.

Two years after the beanstalk had fallen, four years after Emil had left, it was Ludwig's turn to take Lukas to sell potions. But Gilbert was bored and tagged along, and so all three men were present to hear the messenger approach the town square. He was a lean young man, a foreigner most likely, with dark hair and eyes and thick eyebrows. He wore a fine waistcoat in red, the color of the new young lord.

"Hear ye, hear ye." The young man seemed unimpressed with his own words, but as he unrolled a parchment to read from, it became clear to Lukas that he had a script to follow. "Let it be known," he read, "that our gracious Lord Kohler invites and welcomes all in this village to his Noble Ball, on the night of the next full moon, at his lordship's castle. He especially extends an invitation to all the eligible youths of the land, noble or common, in the hope that on that night, he may find his lady."

A smattering of feminine gasps resounded throughout the crowd. Beside Lukas, Gilbert snorted but maintained interest.

"Our gracious Lord Kohler hopes to come to know his subjects, and bids you come." Having reached the end of his script, the young man ceremoniously rolled up his parchment and stepped down from the makeshift platform to his waiting horse. From across the crowd, Lukas nearly swore that the young man made eye contact with him, as if to say, you too.

"Must not be much of a looker, if he has to ask every maiden in the kingdom to attend," Gilbert scoffed to Ludwig. "He'll probably just take the first one who'll take him too."

"From the sounds of those gasps, Gilbert, most of these women don't care about looks over title," said Ludwig. He eyed the crowd. "And I suspect that goes for your flower girl, too."

Gilbert and Lukas followed his gaze. Sure enough, the flower peddler, Elizabeta, was giggling with some of her friends and, from the looks of their gestures, talking about gowns they might wear.

Gilbert frowned. "Well. I suppose it wouldn't be such a bad thing to see what all the fuss is about."

"I think I'll ask the new lord to set up a university in this town," said Ludwig.

Gilbert eyed his brother.

"What? The announcement said he hopes to 'come to know' his subjects. He should know what citizens like me want, or else he's failed at his duty."

"Lud, I think you're the only citizen who wants that."

Lukas, meanwhile, was making calculations in his head. The full moon was only two weeks away, hardly enough time for him to save the money he'd need to whisk himself and Emil away from this place. His plans were further damaged when Gilbert and Ludwig told Aldrich of the ball.

"You'll need coats," said Aldrich. "Fine coats and britches, and a visit to the barber."

"And a carriage," Ludwig added. "The lord's castle is an hour's journey from here by horse."

"This is why I invested so much into our savings, for these tough times," said Aldrich with a sigh. He disappeared into his study and reappeared with several gold coins. "Gilbert, run to the tailor and tell him to start work on three sets of clothing fit for a ball."

"Three?" Lukas interjected.

Aldrich, Gilbert, and Ludwig all turned to stare at Lukas, who had been waiting beside the doorway.

"That's—very kind of you," Lukas added. "To think of me."

Aldrich breathed once through his nose. "You won't be going. The third suit is for me. I have hopes of speaking to our new lord about this lending tax, and I won't be entertained in the threadbare clothes you keep us in."

Despite himself, Lukas reddened. He hadn't even really wanted to go to the ball, but in his one moment of presumption, he knew he'd brought himself to Aldrich's attention, which meant another warning about—

"And besides, you're a wizard," Aldrich added, settling the coins into Gilbert's palm with a clink. "I imagine you'll be much better off here, preparing potions for those who have drank and eaten too much, than at the ball ruining our good name."

"The servant did say all eligible youth should attend," said Ludwig, less for Lukas's sake than in the name of fairness.

"But is he eligible?" Gilbert demanded. "In the history of the kingdom, no wizard has ever been eligible for anything. Not to mention he's a man. And he has nothing to ask the lord for."

Lukas could think of a great many things to ask the lord for, starting with labor laws for employed wizards and ending with better care for orphans like himself and Emil. But he'd already spoken once and doomed himself enough. He nodded sharply and retreated to his shack.

"Alright," he said to himself with a shaking breath, as he retrieved his stash of coins from his hiding place. "I can assume Aldrich will want to regain his savings, which means…he'll be counting coins again." He looked at the five pithy copper coins he'd scrimped away. They wouldn't even buy him a horse.

He sighed and closed the box. "But it's the only chance I have."

Two weeks passed faster than Lukas had imagined they would, now that he had something to count down to. He spent more time in his shack now that the rest of his family occupied themselves with assembling a wardrobe, learning all they could about the new lord, and generally preparing for the ball. He prepared potions to be sold after the ball, but also for himself: emergency healing potions and disguise potions and potions to be sold along the way (regardless that they'd leave a trail for Aldrich to follow, they were the best chance he had at money now), and a tiny one with a courage charm he thought he might need.

Only when the carriage and driver came to the door did he realize that the night of the ball had arrived.

Lukas scurried to the main house, where Gilbert spotted him first.

"Lukas!" he huffed. "I can't get these damn cufflinks on, help me out, will you?"

Lukas came over and silently buttoned them. He pushed away the thought that this might be the last time he'd ever see these men again. If all went well.

"Now, Lukas," Aldrich said, walking down the stairs as if he were his own sort of lord. "You'll be ready to sell at dawn, won't you?"

"Of course," said Lukas quietly.

"We rely on you to rebuild our savings after tonight, you know."

"I know."

Aldrich took one firm look at Lukas. "Look at me."

Lukas looked up, trying not to hesitate. He prayed Aldrich couldn't see his real plans for the night written in his eyes.

"Perhaps I haven't thanked you enough," Aldrich murmured to himself.

Lukas's eyes widened.

Aldrich shook his head. "No matter. There'll be time for that later. Gilbert, Ludwig, the carriage is waiting."

"Try not to die of boredom," Gilbert called back with a cheeky wave. Ludwig only nodded at him before following his father and brother.

Once they'd closed the door, Lukas collapsed back onto one of the small tables in the foyer.

Perhaps I haven't thanked you enough.

What did he mean by that? He surely didn't actually—care?

Lukas found himself muttering the phrase all the way to his mother's grave, at the corner of the family plot beside Lukas's father.

"He hasn't thanked me enough, Mother," Lukas said to her headstone. This was wrong, he should be saying goodbye, but he was in turns flabbergasted and furious, and years of suppressing the two were beginning to boil over. "You meant that man to be family? That—slave driver who…"

He took several deep, gasping breaths.

"I had to send Emil away, you know," he told her. "He would have worked Emil as hard as he worked me, if not more. Emil could do the spells people really paid for. But you'd know about that."

He recalled the spells his mother had sold, the people who had worn down the path to their home with money to pay and scowls to be asking for help from a witch.

"Did you mean for our home to become a jail?" he asked. The minute he asked the question, he regretted it. His mother might have misjudged Aldrich, might have interpreted his two sons as potential kindness to two more, but she would never have meant to hurt her sons. In the best way she knew, she'd tried to keep them together and fed.

Lukas sighed. A tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. "Forgive me, Mother. I'm just angry. And scared." He looked into the woods. He still remembered the path to Mathias's home, but he'd have to wander it in the dark. He might not get far. "Tonight is my only chance to find Emil and leave this place."

"But are you sure you're going about it the right way?"

Lukas's head snapped up as his heartbeat raced. There, just underneath the edge of the trees at the border of the family's land, was a man in a dark cloak.

"…I suppose you have a better way?" Lukas asked, sounding stronger than he felt.

The man lifted his hood to reveal short blond hair, enormous eyebrows, and green eyes that glinted by the light of the moon rising over the trees. "I might. And all you need to give me in return is something to drink."

Years' worth of fairy tales flashed through Lukas's memory. His mother had mentioned fair folk in the forest, willing to make deals in exchange for trifles, silently testing the character of the humans they encountered.

Lukas eyed his mother's grave, as if looking for a sign.

The sign came from the stranger. "I only have one thing to trade," he said. He rifled through a deep pocket in his cloak and emerged with—

Lukas's breath caught in his throat. The man had Mr. Puffin.

Fair folk tests and Lukas's character be damned.

"One second," said Lukas weakly. As his shack was closer than the house, he scurried to it first and found an empty potion bottle. He took it outside to the pump and filled it with water. Let that be a test of his own, then. Let the fair folk know he was a wizard, and that he was ready to accept this bargain on his own desperate terms.

The man in the cloak raised his eyebrows and smirked when Lukas returned with the filled potion bottle. "A mage then, are you?" asked the man.

"Yes," said Lukas solemnly, passing the bottle to the man. His eyes flickered to the man's hands, but Mr. Puffin seemed to have returned to the man's pocket. "And if you can accept that, I'll make any deal you want."

With less ceremony than Lukas would have liked, the man yanked the bottle out of his hands and drank the whole bottle in several large gulps.

"Ah," he said as he wiped his mouth with his hand. Then he burped. "Do I detect a trace of cold cure?"

Lukas blinked.

"Anyway, now that we've finished that," said the man stepping past Lukas and into the land, "it's right time that we—"

"Wait," said Lukas swiveling around in the grass. "You know potions?"

"Well of course," said the man, and he grinned. "I'm Arthur, and I'm a mage too."

Lukas looked between Arthur's current stance on his land and where he'd just stood. "But you—you were going to make a deal, and you were standing right at the boundary—"

"Like a fair folk?" Arthur took a step closer and pressed the potion bottle back into Lukas's hands. "Yes, your brother told me that would earn your trust quicker than anything. That and the puffin."

Hope, unconfirmed and barely possible until now, clenched Lukas's chest. "My brother."

"Yes, Emil is alive and well. And planning to meet you at the ball tonight, I might add."

Despite himself, Lukas looked down at the potion bottle in his hands, and past it to the same worn tunic he'd mended and re-mended to the point where he couldn't remember its original color.

"Yes, well," said Arthur, following his gaze, "of course I plan to change all that. But first, I believe my assistant should be showing up any—"

Lukas and Arthur both looked up at the sound of rattling wheels on the other side of the house.

Arthur dashed around the building with Lukas in close pursuit, and stepped back to let Lukas examine the most ornate carriage he'd ever seen. It was blue, deep blue, with gold trimming around the doors and the wheels. The driver who stepped down wore a matching colored coat, but in nearly the exact same style as a coat he'd seen just recently—

"You?" Lukas asked the young man who'd announced the ball to their village.

"Me," said the young man coolly, "and believe me, it took ages of waiting for you and your not-brothers to get to the center of town."

"As if you couldn't handle a wait," scoffed Arthur. He ruffled through his pockets and once again took out Mr. Puffin.

"Give it to me," Lukas said sharply. "Wasn't that part of the trade?"

"Truthfully, it was never mine to give," said Arthur, and without further explanation he tossed the stuffed toy and his next comment to the young man. "Now introduce yourself."

The young man caught Mr. Puffin in a fluid motion and returned him—more gently, Lukas noted—to a pocket on his coat. "Leon," said the young man, offering a bow. "Close friend of your brother's, and of the new lord."

"…My brother befriended you."

"Freed me from a curse when he was twelve years old, actually. The friendship came after."

"…Emil has been living a more interesting life than I expected," Lukas muttered to himself.

"Just wait until you talk to Mathias," said Leon, offering his first hint of a smile.

If news of Emil's wellbeing had constricted Lukas's chest, hope about Mathias nearly split him in two. Before he knew it, tears had sprung to his eyes. "He's—Mathias?"

"Yes, he's fine too," said Arthur, speaking absently as he walked around Lukas, examining his body for something unknown. "Gave me a bloody scare, though, dropping that beanstalk right beside my house. Scared me and Francis half to death."

"Where is Francis, anyway?" Leon asked.

"At the palace tittering about the party, where else?" Arthur replied with a roll of his eyes. "Now, Lukas, if you wouldn't mind standing with your arms out—"

"Why?" Lukas demanded.

Arthur gave him a look. "You can't handle suspense for one moment, can you?" He forced Lukas's limp arms into a T-shaped position, tapped his legs to force Lukas to widen his stance, and pursed his lips.

"What, no caster?" Leon asked when Arthur held out his hand. "I even have a puffin, and I'm not a mage."

"Would you be quiet and let a professional work?" asked Arthur, though not without a hint of fondness. Then, murmuring something Lukas vaguely recognized but couldn't hear, he waved his hand over Lukas.

For a few moments, Lukas saw nothing but golden lights around him and felt nothing but a slightly heavier fabric settle upon him. When he shook himself out of his daze and looked down, he saw…

Quite possibly the most beautiful garments he'd ever worn. A tailored midnight blue coat with silver stitching and shining silver buttons that mirrored the moon, soft matching britches and shining white stockings, and—

"Glass slippers?" Leon asked before Lukas could.

"He was still holding the potion bottle," said Arthur defensively, "and it was material that could be used, and it's an exhausting spell to cast—"

"Yeah, well, just wait until we get to the ball and a real professional can redo it," said Leon. "Anything else, oh mighty mage?"

"I'm beginning to regret that you were the only one available to come along," muttered Arthur. To Lukas he said, "Come on, we're your escorts for tonight. At least until we reach the castle, where you'll be free to find your brother."

Lukas paused. His eyes flickered back to the shack, where his meager copper coins were waiting. Arthur probably didn't know how little he had, but he could surely guess at Lukas's intentions.

"There'll be time enough for that later, lad," said Arthur softly. "Let's have tonight be a happy night."

Hesitantly, Lukas nodded and accepted Leon's hand to be helped into the carriage.

Lukas stared out the window as they rode, his nerves twisting his insides. They had left the village before he knew it.

"I suppose the carriage is magic too?" he asked Arthur, who sat across from him.

"No, just a carriage," Arthur replied, frankly looking a little sick from the bumpiness of the ride. "My specialty is less in conjuring than in curse-breaking."

"But Emil was the one who broke Leon's curse, I thought."

"Well," said Arthur, "I'm still learning. As is he."

Lukas bit his tongue before he could add himself to the list. He'd stopped learning long ago.

Leon had hinted that he might speak to Mathias. So, it was fair to assume that Emil and Mathias would both be at this ball, and most likely together. So that would mean that, after tonight, Lukas would have to find, hide, and protect two people, and not simply the one brother he'd expected.

The thought should have frightened him, but instead he felt oddly comforted. Emil and Mathias were both alive and well, and at least well off enough to be attending a ball. All of his wishes were coming true.

Even, for one night, his one wish for himself.

Forest gave way to lantern-lit roads, and then to a dwindling line of carriages at the foot of an enormous castle nestled between forest and mountains alike.

"His lordship must have been a lucky man, to have bought this sort of title," Lukas commented offhandedly to Arthur.

"Remarkably so," Arthur said with a roll of his eyes, but when Lukas looked at him, he didn't explain any further. Instead, his eyes widened. "Ah, I forgot something!" With more murmured words and a spurt from his fingertips, he showered Lukas in a dust of glitter.

"What is this for?" Lukas asked, trying not to inhale it.

"A glamor," Arthur responded simply. "Wouldn't want those not-brothers of your to recognize you, let alone the rest of the village."

Ah, yes. For a brief few moments, Lukas had forgotten he was a wizard and therefore a pariah. He turned to Arthur. "Why are you doing this for me? Why the carriage, why the spells?"

Arthur paused, and then gave Lukas a small and surprisingly soft smile. "I may not come out of a fairy tale, lad. But I do believe in them."

At that moment, the carriage door open, and Leon stood outside waiting with his hand outstretched for Lukas to take.

"Go on now," said Arthur with a wave of his hands. "They're waiting."

Lukas didn't have to ask who "they" were.

Leon walked him as far as the steps, but Lukas walked up the steps and through the enormous entry corridor alone. At the end of the hall, a blond man with his hair tied in a messy bun was speaking quietly with an assistant. When he saw Lukas approaching, he straightened and offered a beaming smile.

"Well, it is our late arrival!" he said with a foreign accent, stronger than Arthur's, that Lukas couldn't place. "Your name for the announcement, then?" he asked.

Did Arthur's glamor work for names as well as faces? Lukas paused, and the man caught his hesitation. "No matter," he said with the same smile. He gestured to the two men stationed near the doors.

Lukas stood before the doors as they opened to reveal an immense ballroom, decorated with several glittering chandeliers and milling with coats and dresses of all colors. At the sound of the doors opening, many guests turned to look at the new arrival.

Lukas held his breath.

"A new arrival," called the blond man at his side, "and an eligible youth."

Lukas would have contested that—he wasn't here to marry anyone, only to find his brother and his friend—if he hadn't been held stock still by the attention of the entire room. But there was no judgment in their eyes. Many of the ladies and a few of the men had their mouths open, and a whisper broke out through the crowd.

But no one was laughing or jeering at the wizard.

Lukas's heart gave a lurch when he caught sight of Ludwig. But Ludwig was busy murmuring to a young brunette man holding his arm, glancing at Lukas with intrigue but not recognition. A few people away from him, Gilbert was doing the same with a dark-haired violinist taking a refreshment.

Nobody recognized him.

Lukas straightened his shoulders.

He walked as steadily as he could down the right flight of stairs. The band started a dance as soon as he reached the floor, which detracted most but not all of the attention away from Lukas. The people near him spared him a few more glances before craning their necks, most likely for their friends or possibly for the young lord.

How was Lukas going to find who he was looking for in this crowd?

Someone whistled in his direction.

Lukas looked around but couldn't find the source of it, despite that his heart leapt at the familiarity of the sound. Then he heard it again and realized where he knew it from. Mathias had used the same call to get his attention in the village.

As he realized this, a door opened under the staircase, and a familiar shock of golden hair popped out.

Lukas dashed to the door and was yanked inside.

Mathias's hands were at his face, on his shoulders, through his hair, as if he had any right to be the one checking that Lukas was in fact alive and not just a dream. Mathias's eyes finally found his, and he breathed his name. "Lukas." His entire face broadened with his smile. "Lukas!" He wrapped his arms around Lukas, whose chest ached with something due to spill out at the feeling of Mathias's cheek against his head, of Lukas's ear against his chest, listening to both of their heartbeats thrum and sing.

Then Lukas stomped on Mathias's foot.

Mathias let go with a yelp.

"I thought you were dead," Lukas snapped, trying to hold back the tremor of his voice. "The beanstalk fell right where you lived, and you never came to the village, you never sent word—"

"I wanted to!" Mathias held his hands up. "I tried to! But I couldn't go as a woodcarver anymore, and suddenly I had to have all these meetings with banks, and then with the nobility and then the king—"

Belatedly, Lukas realized that Mathias was wearing the same red that Leon was wearing when he made the ball announcement to Lukas's village. Not only that, but Mathias wore medals, medals he surely couldn't have won for anything, and his epaulettes were almost princely, like a—

"You're a lord?"

Mathias grinned sheepishly, and his hand escaped to the back of his neck. He hadn't changed nearly as much as Lukas had expected.

"Lord Kohler," Lukas breathed. "I never knew your family name before."

"I didn't have one before," said Mathias, "but they made one up for me based on, I dunno, my ancestors or something. I didn't pay that much attention. Arthur and Francis did a lot of the management."

The mention of Arthur raised a new question. "How come you can recognize me?" asked Lukas. "Don't tell me becoming a noble makes you impervious to magic or something."

"Nah, Francis just gave me a countercharm. You met Francis, he was the guy who introduced you when you walked in." Mathias's shoulders fell, and he swept some fallen hair out of Lukas's face. Lukas became acutely aware that they were in a servant storage space under a grand staircase. "But that's not important now. I missed you. I wanted to tell you as soon as I knew I'd get the title."

"Then why didn't you?" Lukas asked. "All this time I was waiting, and…"

"Well," said Mathias, biting his lip in a very unfair manner, "I wanted you to see me on my terms, I guess. Not in my study, not from my carriage. Just me, like I've always been."

Lukas snorted. His hands somehow found their way to Mathias's shoulders. "They could put you in a crown and to me you'd be as you've always been."

"Handsome, right?"

"Good. And charming, without meaning to be, most of the time. And goofy."

"Better stop you there before you think of something worse," Mathias said, and Lukas laughed for the first time he could remember in a while. When he looked back at Mathias, Mathias was staring at him as if he were a sunset, or a night sky, like he was something to be awed and made majestic.

"You were always so hard to impress. But so handsome," said Mathias. "Your face broke my heart when I first saw you. I thought you were a fair folk."

"Close," Lukas muttered.

Mathias cupped Lukas's jaw in his hands. "You know I don't care you're a mage, right?"

Lukas's eyes slowly, slowly met Mathias's. "I know."

They held their stance for a moment. In the distance, the orchestra ended its current piece. "Well," said Mathias, "I guess we have to attend our own party."

"Our own party?" Lukas asked.

Mathias pressed his lips together, and Lukas got the distinct feeling he'd said something he wasn't supposed to. "If you want it to be," he said quietly.

Lukas suddenly, belatedly, had a very good idea of who'd sent Arthur and Leon and the carriage.

"…Can we find Emil first?" Lukas asked. He took one of Mathias's hands off of his cheek, and squeezed it. "That would make the night complete."

Mathias's expression became gentler, and he offered a small smile. "I understand."

Mathias entertained guests while Lukas scoured the crowd for his brother. He scanned the dance floor, the pockets of women and businessmen and young men staring jealously at the young lord and then at their desired women, and he even went to the second-floor balcony which overlooked the festivities. He carefully avoided Aldrich and his gentlemen, but otherwise looked everywhere.

Finally, he ended up exhausted at the refreshment table.

"Such a handsome man shouldn't be pouring his own drink."

Lukas turned around to scold Mathias for the teasing, but when he turned around, he caught the warning as well as the teasing in his smile. Nobody knew that Mathias and Lukas knew each other. As far as the onlookers—and there were plenty of them—knew, this was a first-time, potentially magical meeting.

"Far be it from me to deny a chivalrous man," replied Lukas, feeling like one of his old fairy tale books. He set the bottle of wine down for Mathias to pour from him. When he'd finished, Lukas bowed in thanks.

"Many thanks, my lord." Now he felt like a servant.

"Could you be troubled for a name?" replied Mathias. "Or shall I call you the mystery gentleman all night?"

Lukas offered a slight grin. "Perhaps you shall."

He'd only taken a sip of wine when the orchestra began with a new tune, a waltz. As if on cue, Mathias offered his hand. "Might I have this dance, then, mystery gentleman?"

Lukas had no idea how to dance. But the steps of a waltz didn't look overly complicated. "If my lord desires," he replied, and took Mathias's hand. The fact that he was doing it before an increasingly large crowd of spectators electrified the motion. But when he looked up into Mathias's eyes, Mathias was smiling with such reassurance that Lukas forgot about the crowd.

Mathias pulled him to the edge of the dance floor, where the other dancers made way for the nobleman and his unknown partner at the center.

Mathias held him close and took the lead. "I'm so glad I can finally dance with you," he murmured. "I think the most people are going to say about me tomorrow is that how many feet I stepped on."

"If you dare step on my feet, my lord, I'll be adding to the gossip."

Mathias laughed as if he'd said something coquettish, but Lukas heard the real amusement. "Any luck finding Emil?" he asked. "He said he'd arrive right around the time you did."

"Why—where did he go?"

"He didn't say."

"I'm worried about him."

"Hey, he's sixteen years old—he's pretty mature now."

"He's still too young."

"Hey, you sent him to me when we were only eighteen—"

"And I wish I hadn't—"

"Wait," said Mathias, now hurt, "I know I was young, but I think I took good care of him considering—"

"No, I meant I wish you didn't have to—"

A loud CRACK resounded over their heads.

A shower of glistening dust fell over the two of them, not unlike the dust that Arthur had showered Lukas with to disguise him to the guests. Belatedly, Lukas realized that this was exactly what it was—the same charm done twice, and therefore, the countercharm.

The attendees from his village began to gasp.

"LUKAS!" shouted Aldrich from the overlooking balcony. "Get away from his lordship at once!"

"He will not!"

The dancers parted for another man in a cloak, similar to Arthur's. But the wearer was younger, his hair lighter, and his expression angrier.

"Emil," Lukas breathed.

Emil kept his eyes trained on Aldrich for a few seconds, and then expanded his gaze to the crowd's. His shoulders were strong, but his hands were hidden under the cloak. When Leon silently stepped behind him, he spoke again.

"I, Mage Emil, breaker of curses and protector of villages," he pronounced in a voice too strong for a sixteen-year-old, "have witnessed the treatment of witches and wizards in these provinces. I have seen their shame and their slander.

"But you were wrong," said Emil, raising an open hand to gesture at Lukas, who was still halfway in Mathias's arms. "Lukas was the son of Witch Valka, but he is no wizard." He raised his eyes to meet Aldrich's again, and raised his voice for all to hear clearly: "I am the only mage in all the province."

Lukas glanced around. He couldn't see Arthur or Francis anywhere, but he knew instinctively that Emil was either lying or not counting them. Not to mention himself.

"It was I who grew the beanstalk to find a nobler lord than our own. It was I who favored the one who climbed it. And it is I, now, who protect your villages, your homes, from what lurks in the woods."

Behind him, Leon snorted and nearly smiled.

"And the potions?" Gilbert had the nerve to call out. "You're telling me Lukas never made those potions?"

"Any fool can put together the ingredients, but the charms to activate them were mine, hidden in the bottles he brewed with. Even now, he wears my mark."

Lukas's feet suddenly felt very hot, and the floor beneath him lit up. Mathias stepped backward to reveal that Lukas's shoes—made of the potion bottles, he realized, he remembered now—were glowing for all to see.

Emil stepped closer. "My potion bottles were used throughout your village. But only the true lady, to match the true lord, would find the potion bottles turned into slippers on the night of Lord Kohler's ball.

"The man who climbed the beanstalk," Emil concluded, moving to stand between Mathias and Lukas, "and the man who discovered the shoes. These were my tests, to preserve our towns rather than divide them in hatred. To discover kindness and compassion"—and here he definitely looked at Lukas, with the smallest hint of a smile—"in ordinary men." He snapped his head to the crowd. "You have your lord and lady."

And then, with a crack to rival the one that had broken Lukas's glamor, he disappeared.

The crowd launched into talks and arguments, far from a murmur but not quite an uproar. Lukas looked between accusing and confused eyes, wishing more and more that he could have seen his brother again in a more normal fashion.

Mathias stepped to his side. "I can signal Francis. He'll send for the carriage again, he can take you away if—"

"Ahem."

Beside them, Leon stood on one knee with his head down.

"Long life the lord, and"—he looked up at Lukas for a brief moment—"other lord."

The dancers surrounding Leon examined him and murmured.

"If the same mage," said Leon loudly, "the only mage who tames huldre and brews healing potions, has chosen these men as our best leaders…" He lowered his voice as he bowed his head again. "Then I will follow them."

"Long live the lords!" called a voice from the balcony. It was Francis, Lukas knew, but he disappeared from sight so that anyone might have said it.

"Long live the lords!" echoed the brunette man on Ludwig's arm. Ludwig turned to look at him in confusion, but with a single glance from the young man's soft eyes, Ludwig sighed, turned to Lukas, and bowed his head.

"Long live the lords," recited the orchestra as one. Gilbert, who lingered near the strings section—waiting for the violinist he'd spoken to earlier?—frowned, but echoed them.

More and more voices joined, some less enthusiastic than others, and the crowd increasingly bowed, curtsied, and even kneeled as Leon had done. Lukas heard their cries echoing around the rafters and looked to Mathias for confirmation—that this was really happening, that Emil was the one who had done it, that for once in his life he was in a room full of people and safe.

Mathias took his hand.

They both stood taller.

"That was the best improvisation I've ever seen," said Leon as they watched their brothers dance from the balcony. Lukas had finally gotten some wine in him and was loosening up, and Mathias seemed drunk on Lukas's presence alone.

"What, the crackling magic?" asked Emil as he sipped from his own cup of wine. He'd placed a glamor on himself, but taken the cloak off and cast a quieting spell around himself and Leon just to be safe. His coat was light blue, not a match to Lukas's but nowhere near Mathias's dark red.

"No, the potion bottles as glass slippers," said Leon. "I mean, I know you were going for the whole 'he was never a mage' thing, but making it sound like you charmed the bottles to fulfill some sort of prophecy…"

"Really? That felt like a bit of a reach to me."

"The sonorous charm probably helped."

"If my voice broke during that…"

"It didn't."

"Good."

They took sips of their wine cups and leaned on the balcony's banister.

"Wasn't Francis going more for that fairy tale from his homeland?" Leon asked. "Wasn't Lukas supposed to go home and be found by Mathias later?"

"Not enough of an audience for that," said Emil. "I wasn't about to rely on rumors to tell everyone Lukas wasn't a wizard."

"Which he is."

"Of course he is."

Leon looked at Emil, who was fighting a smile. "But you're a better one than him," he teased.

"I wouldn't say that—"

"Just younger, better studied, better with spells—"

"At least Lukas does potions better—"

"Come on Emil," said Leon evenly. "Admit it. You're proud of yourself."

Emil looked down at his brothers, who couldn't bear to look away from each other for even a moment. He hadn't seen Mathias look so happy or Lukas look so at peace in a long while. "…Okay. I'm a little proud of myself."

"Yeah, well." Leon kissed his cheek. "I'm a little proud of you too."

Emil widened his eyes and very nearly dropped his cup off the balcony. When he turned back to Leon, Leon was staring out at the dancers again.

"…What?" said Leon, when Emil didn't look away.

"How long have you been saving that for?"

"Shut up, I'm not a pedophile."

"Technically you are. You're eighteen and a few centuries, and I'm sixteen, and—"

"And maybe I've just always been grateful to you for breaking my curse, alright? Now can we drop it? I'll take it back if I have to."

Emil stopped examining him and gazed out. Leon swirled the wine in his cup.

"Suppose, hypothetically," said Emil, "that I wanted to kiss you back."

"How long would you hypothetically have been wanting to do that?"

"When was that time I accidentally walked on you changing?"

"Before the beanstalk?"

"Or maybe it was that time you saved that last strawberry for me instead of eating it yourself."

"Way before the beanstalk." Leon grinned at him. "A little kid crush."

"I was thirteen," Emil grumbled. "And you ate everything your first year of being human again, or don't you remem—"

Leon kissed him on the lips.

Emil trembled out a sigh as they broke apart.

"So what now, oh mighty only mage?" Leon asked. It should have sounded teasing, but it didn't.

Emil flickered his eyes down to Lukas and Mathias, who were engaged in a kiss of their own. "Not sure," he admitted. "The fairy tales always ended at happily ever after."

"Sounds to me like the best part," said Leon. "We get to decide what that is."

Arthur and Francis left soon after Lukas's and Mathias's wedding. The province now had a competent mage, Emil, and so they were no longer needed. They argued about whose home to return to, Francis's or Arthur's, before Francis mentioned a friend named Antonio a few days away who might want some help. Apparently he'd fallen in love with a young man and his angelic voice in a forest, but was due to marry a prince whose entire castle had fallen asleep and become guarded by a dragon. Arthur figured he had just the spell.

Lukas moved out of his family home the day after the ball. He wouldn't let anyone accompany him except Emil. What words were exchanged between Lukas and Aldrich remained a mystery, but when they parted ways, they shook hands.

Aldrich was ready to help his son Gilbert join in business with the local flower girl, but Gilbert had fallen in love with a dark-haired violinist and decided to take up a flute and follow his company. (By coincidence, he became drinking buddies and then friends with the mage who took care of the company, a spirited young man named Vlad.) Aldrich instead turned to his other son, moving with him to two villages away, where Ludwig had discovered both a university and the bright-eyed professor's grandson who met him after class.

Mathias and Lukas worked in tandem to make life better for those with the common lives they'd sprouted from. After several years of wise and prosperous leadership, they asked the "only mage" to help them divine an heir. Mage Emil only led them to one of the newly-erected orphanages and smiled as they took home the first child they fell in love with. She was raised with fairy tales, the occasional health potion, and a sworn determination to find her prince before he found her.

Mage Emil and his former huldre partner guarded the woods, just as Mage Emil claimed he always had been doing. Once they'd cleared the enormous beanstalk, they set to work reviving the magic of the province. Leon led them to unexplored corners and unmet creatures of the forest, and Emil helped where he could and passed their larger requests back to his brothers. They alternated living between Emil's childhood home and Arthur's former cottage—now Leon's, reclaimed—for years upon years, until they wearied of the woods just as Mathias and Lukas wearied of ruling. Mathias's and Lukas's daughter relieved their duties, Lukas relieved Emil's and Leon's, and Emil and Leon spent a happy retirement exploring the world and what it had to offer.

And so, through magic and love, they all lived happily ever after.