Chapter 8

As the Queen of Mystacore slowly opened her eyes, a familiar face swam into view through the haze of sleep. Unfortunately, it was the wrong face. "How are you feeling?" Teela asked quietly, her voice hardly louder than a whisper. "The surgeon said you might have a headache. Do you?" Castaspella nodded, even that slight movement setting off hammer falls of pain behind her eyes. She grimaced, and the captain silently handed her a glass of water and two pills. "Take these." The wizardess sat up just far enough to down the medication, then sank back onto the pillow, her eyelids feeling unaccountably heavy.

"Thanks," she muttfered, fighting to keep her eyes open as the other woman swayed in and out of view. It was difficult to make out much, but the Etherian thought it must be nighttime, for the room beyond the captain was deep in shadow, lit only by small pools of light along the base of the walls.

"You're welcome," Teela replied, her voice still very soft. "Actually, I wanted to thank you for... "

Castaspella tried to keep track of what the other woman was saying, but it was impossible. Her eyes closed and in less time than it took for the Eternian captain to say thank you, the Etherian queen was fast asleep.

Adora looked up from reading when something blocked her light, and was surprised to see her brother standing over her, a bemused expression on his face. "Well, that was quick," she said, setting the book aside. "I expected the two of you to be holed up for at least a couple of hours."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "It's been three hours, Sis."

Blinking, the princess looked up at the chronometer on the wall of the queen's solar. Where did the time go? she wondered. Who would have thought reading political history could be so engrossing? Giving the prince an identical, lop-sided smile, she patted a spot on the sofa next to her. "Have a seat, oh brother mine."

Adam stretched out beside her, arms crossed behind his head while he contemplated his crossed, booted feet. He let out a long, deep sigh, and Adora's eyes widened at the sheer weariness he projected. "Tired," he mumbled, as his eyes closed. One of his feet was swinging slightly, however, so she knew he wasn't asleep yet.

"How did things go with Father?" When he didn't immediately reply, she reached over and poked him in the ribs. "Adam?

"Hmmm?"

"How did things go with Father?"

He shrugged, not opening his eyes. "It was okay."

Okay? It was okay? The princess scowled at her brother, but, eyes still closed, he neither saw nor reacted to her annoyance. Sitting up straight, she poked him in the ribs again... hard.

"Hey!" Adam yelled, bolting upright. "What's the idea?"

"Adam, quit being such a man and tell me what happened. Details. I want details." That said, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited. The prince blinked at her, yawned, and dropped back onto the sofa cushions.

"We talked," he said with a yawn. "We haven't really done that in a long time, so I guess we'd both saved up a lot to say."

"And?" she prompted.

"And everything's fine," Adam said, watching her out of the corner of his eyes. "Don't poke me again."

"Adam!" she snapped, stomping one of her feet on the floor.

"Seriously," he insisted. "We talked. We're fine. There's nothing more to tell. Do you want a blow by blow description of the conversation?" He turned his head toward her on the cushion and eyed her tiredly. "You and Mother were right. We needed to have a long talk and we did. But on top of everything else that happened today, it was pretty emotionally draining. I am dead tired, and - "

The prince's words broke off abruptly as his sister made a small squeaking sound and covered her face with her hands. "Adora! What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, as he pulled her quickly into his arms. The princess leaned into her brother's embrace, inexpressibly thankful to be able to hug him one more time. It seemed ridiculous to be crying over what was no doubt a simple slip of the tongue, but it hadn't even been a day yet. Just a few short hours since he'd been...

"Sis, are you all right? Did I say something to upset you?"

"Adam, I love you with all my heart, but if you make one more joke that involves the words death, dead, or dying, I swear I will strangle you myself." She squeezed him tightly, immensely satisfied by the gust of air she knocked from his lungs, and then pulled away. The baffled look he gave her as she impatiently brushed away the tears from her eyes was almost funny. Almost.

"What?" he asked. "What do you - " realization dawned - "Oh. Oh! Oh, Sis, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I never should have used that word." He stopped and cleared his throat noisily. "What I should have said is that... ummm... I'm real tired. Like, heavy sleep, Cringer's breath couldn't wake me up kind of tired. So please don't ask me to rehash the whole conversation with Father. Okay?"

Adora sighed. "I suppose that's a reasonable request."

"Of course it is," he agreed. Reaching out and wiping away the last bit of moisture from her cheek. "So, now it's your turn. Tell me what happened with skull face. I've been dying- I mean, waiting to ask you how it is that you got back so fast. Obviously you weren't hurt..." As his words trailed off, his eyes sought hers with a beseeching look, begging for reassurance.

"I'm fine," the princess muttered disgustedly. "Unfortunately, so is bonehead."

Adam's brows knit. "I don't understand. What's wrong?"

Rolling her eyes, Adora sighed gustily. "Skeletor must have been expected a pretty serious reprisal for his attack on you, because when I got there, Snake Mountain was emptier than the stockade the day after a universal amnesty."

"Completely empty?" Adam asked, apparently as shocked as she'd been.

"Not a minion in sight. I was extremely disappointed," she drawled. "But, from the way you were talking earlier, it sounds like I'm likely to have more opportunities to tangle with him in the future."

The prince flushed and looked away. "So how did you manage to get away from Mother and Father?" he asked, blatantly changing the subject. "I thought you were supposed to be out riding with them."

His sister groaned and flopped back on the sofa beside him. "I was. I never made it past the stables. I had to tell them that Spirit got spooked by a snake just outside the stable pastures, ran off, stumbled into a ditch and then threw a shoe." She groaned again. "To make it look real I had to pry one of his shoes loose with my dagger, and then lead him, hobbling artistically, back to the stables."

When the prince began to chuckle, she glared ferociously at him. "It's not funny, Adam!" she protested. "Between the insults and the injuries, Spirit may never forgive me, and Father is convinced that I'm not a skilled equestrian. ME! Unskilled on a horse? Blah."

"Sorry, Sis," he mumbled abashedly. "I know how much you were looking forward to having a free day with them, and - "

"And you have quite handily changed the subject," she interjected. "Now, what is going on with you and Castaspella?"

"Nothing is definite yet," he murmured as he idly played with the edge of one of the cushions. "I haven't even agreed to go back to Etheria for that state visit she keeps asking me about."

Adora's eyes widened as she stared at her brother's profile. He hasn't answered her yet! I didn't know she'd asked him! Taking a long, slow breath, she said, "Castaspella has asked you to go back to Etheria with her? Did I understand you correctly?"

"Yes, she has. She's returning to Mystacore the day after the mid-summer festival, and I'm supposed to let her know by then whether or not I'll be coming with her."

"Permanently?" Adora yelped, stunned by how quickly Adam's relationship with the wizardess was progressing.

"No, not permanently," he hurriedly replied. "Just... an extended visit. You know, to find out if we do want to try something more... something more... "

"Permanent," she repeated, her mind whirling. It's happening. It's really happening.

The days leading up to the festival passed quickly - far too quickly for Teela's peace of mind - and before she quite knew what had happened, she was laying out her clothing for the ball, the culmination of all the holiday festivities. She took special care with the dress. She'd purchased it just a few days earlier for this specific event, and she wanted it to be perfect. For this, her last palace ball, she would dress as the ladies of the court did for such gatherings - she would dress to catch the eye of a prince.

Always before, she'd worn her armor, attending the dances and fetes as a guard rather than a guest. But not tonight. For once, Teela intended to dance the night away, to enjoy the music and the company. After all, she'd be leaving Eternos soon, so this was her last chance to live life as the courtier she'd always struggled not be. If I'd done this sooner, then maybe... She shook her head. No. No point in dwelling on it. I've lost him, and there's nothing I can do to change that now.

Teela had no illusions about the ball or its likely climax. Adam was as beyond her reach as the stars. As beautiful and full of life as a star, she thought with a sigh. He'd spent all his time of late with the Queen of Mystacore, and it didn't take an oracle to see that there were wedding bells in the air. The prince would marry his Etherian wizardess... that was abundantly clear. The captain was more than half expecting an announcement to that effect to be made that very evening. So I only have a few hours left to spend with him. A few precious hours before the real world reasserts itself.

With another heartfelt sigh, Teela adjusted the scarves that would hang from the shoulders of the dress. If it worked the way the seamstress had promised, they would billow out like a silken cape every time she spun around. A tiny smile curved her lips, and she steadfastly ignored the few lonely tears that spilled down her face. Adam will love this dress. He always did like to be surrounded by beautiful things. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she quickly brushed away her tears, stripped out of her robe and slipped into the shimmering golden ball gown.

The bodice was tight enough so that the sleeveless straps of the dress were more for show than for actual support, but the calf-length skirt was incredibly full, and it billowed around her legs as she twirled before her mirror. As promised, the scarves wafted along the air behind her. All in all, if any dress was worth half her savings, this one was. I knew that cloth of gold would be expensive, but I had no idea just how expensive it would be. Still, I can't complain. Even if it wasn't a last minute rush job, this dress would be amazing.

Considering the efforts that had gone into creating the garment itself, Teela felt a certain obligation not to disgrace the seamstress by any unladylike displays. So she'd done the heretofore unthinkable and actually curled her brilliant red hair. And thanks to that trick Aunt Marlena showed me, it will stay curled until morning. Now, it hung in fiery ringlets about her face and shoulders, glinting in the sunlight from the open window. With a flash of red gold, she spun in place, quickly testing the traction of her new slippers. They were a bit slick, but she figured she could get through the ball without disgracing herself.

She added a few tasteful pieces of jewelry, mostly gifts from her father, and turned back to the mirror one last time to study the overall effect. The smattering of freckles on her shoulders was a bit out of place for a pampered courtier, she supposed, but otherwise she looked the part right down to her satin dancing shoes. I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be, she thought, satisfied with the image she saw reflected back at her. I hope Prince Adam is in the mood to dance tonight, because I don't intend to sit one out.

Wrapping a matching shawl around her shoulder and gathering her courage about her as well, Teela strode from her room and into the palace, prepared to meet the rest of the revelers.

"Calm down, Castaspella. Just calm down," the wizardess ordered herself as she studied her reflection in the suite's floor-length mirror. "This is only the single most important night of your life. No reason to be nervous or anything." Taking a slow, supposedly soothing breath, she brushed her hair impatiently back from her face.

Up, she thought. Tonight I am putting this crow's nest up and out of the way for once. Grabbing a brush, she hastily arranged her auburn tresses in an artfully precarious-looking pile atop her head. With that dark and heavy mass out of the way, the creamy white skin of her neck and shoulders was shown to best advantage, contrasting nicely with the dark, wine red of her gown. The dress was low-cut, but not daringly so, and only a hint of equally creamy cleavage showed. Castaspella grinned mischievously at herself in the mirror. Not that Adam would ever be so crass as to stare at a woman's cleavage. Still, if he looks down at my face while we're dancing, he's bound to enjoy the view.

Still, the overall impression presented by her garb was once of demure elegance. With its full, flowing sleeves, high waist and floor-length skirt, the dress was proper enough for a visiting queen... or the suitor to a prince. Castaspella's heart began to pound, drumlike, as if the dancing had already begun, and the Etherian quickly sat down.

"A fine state you've gotten yourself into," she muttered disgustedly, burying her face in her hands. "Quit acting like some adolescent going to her first ball. You've been to scores and scores of these things. There's no reason to be a bundle of nerves now, for the Ancients' sake. This is just one more ball. Just one more."

Never mind that this is my last chance to court Adam before I leave tomorrow. Never mind that my entire life hinges on whether he decides to come to Mystacore with me or not. Never mind that he still hasn't given me his answer. Never mind that I love him so desperately that my very bones ache when we're apart. Oh, Adam...

Leaping to her feet, Castaspella began to pace frenetically. For several minutes she marched back and forth, wringing her hands and kicking her skirts furiously out of her way. "If he'd only let her go! If she wasn't constantly there, taunting him and –"

The wizardess' tirade ceased abruptly as someone knocked on the door to her suite. What now? She hurried into the sitting room and yanked the door open without even bothering to ask the identity of the caller. "Yes?" she said, sounding more harried than she cared to. "What do you –" Eyes wide, she yelped, "Adam! Oh... I... oh..." Flushing nearly as dark as her dress, the queen of Mystacore stared, open-mouthed, at the Crown Prince of Eternia. Ancients and Elders, he's beautiful.

Unbidden, her eyes traveled up and down the prince's frame, taking in every luscious detail. He was garbed in a snowy white silk shirt over which he wore a tunic, breeches and boots of the richest cobalt blue. The tight-fitting pants set off his legs in stunning fashion and the full sleeves of the tunic only enhanced his already broad shoulders. The garments had been embroidered with shining silver thread, and the design appeared to involve interlocking swords and scepters, though Castaspella would have sworn that the trim on the lower edge of his tunic included of what looked to be space ships and some kind of cat. Tigers, she realized. They're Eternian tigers.

"May I come in?" he asked.

Still stunned beyond the capacity for speech, Castaspella looked up into his face, only then noticing the gleaming circlet of interwoven silver and gold that rested upon his brow. His blue eyes were lustrous, shining with life and merriment, and the wizardess found her breath quite taken away by his smile.

"Castaspella?" he said, meeting her gaze with an amused grin. "May I come in, or is this a bad time?" When she said nothing, still openly gawking at him, the prince pulled a small package from behind his back. "I wanted to give you your mid-summer present before the festivities start. I'm bound to be monopolized by the older ladies of the court for a while, but... you're not hearing a word I'm saying." His brows knit, causing the circlet to shift disarmingly lower on one side. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes!" she blurted, regaining possession of at least some of her senses. "Yes, everything is fine, your highness. I'm just surprised to see you. I didn't expect to have the opportunity to enjoy your company until the ball." Stepping aside, she gestured him through the door. "Please, do come in."

Adam walked into the suite, but he did not take a chair. Instead, he stopped roughly in the center of the sitting room and turned to face her. "Your Majesty, I wish you a joyous Mid-Summer Day," he said, once more proffering the goblet-sized package he'd brought with him.

Heart beating wildly, Castaspella stepped forward and took it. "I thank you, your highness, and I wish a joyous Mid-Summer Day to you as well." She curtsied, her knees all but touching the ground, then rose to her full height only to find him grinning gleefully at her.

"Well, are you going to open it, or is it considered improper on Etheria to open gifts in front of the giver?"

Castaspella shook her head adamantly and began pulling haphazardly at the ribbons that sealed the box. Her inexplicably nerveless fingers made a hash of it, and she shot a pleading look at the prince. Sighing and shaking his head in tolerant amusement, Adam reached over and deftly undid the bindings. "Thank you," she said, dry-mouthed as she lifted the lid from the box and reached inside. She pulled out a small velvet pouch of a dark purple shade. It was surprisingly heavy, and it jangled slightly as she tipped it, spilling the contents into her trembling hands.

The necklace was one she'd admired while shopping with Adam on that memorable day when she'd kissed him the forest and confessed her love. The intricately enameled pendant, which hung from a heavy golden chain, depicted a red rose just coming into full bloom. Though not terribly expensive, it was exquisitely crafted. And more important still, he remembered that I liked it. I know for a fact that he didn't buy it on that trip, so he must have remembered and gone back for it later. Oh, my dear, sweet Adam.

He bounced slightly on his heels, clearly waiting for some kind of response, and Castaspella smiled shyly up at him. "It's beautiful," she said. "Would you help me put it on?"

"Of course, your majesty. I'm happy to be of service." So saying, he quickly took the necklace from her hand, lifted it over her head and nimbly clasped it in place. Castaspella shivered as his fingers brushed tantalizingly against the bare skin of her neck, and the wizardess thought she felt an answering tremble in his body as well. Taking a deep, slow breath she inhaled his scent, a heady brew of soap and pure male, unsullied by artificial fragrances.

As he stepped back, his eyes strangely unreadable for the first time since entering the room, she quietly cleared her throat. "Thank you," she murmured again. "It's beautiful."

"You're beautiful," he whispered back. Castaspella's eyes widened in shock as he reached up and cupped her chin in one strong hand. The kiss that followed was hardly adventurous, but it was a marvelous beginning, a promise of better things to come.

Adora grimaced as she stared at herself in the mirror. The seamstress had delivered her ball gown days ago, but the princess hadn't been able to bring herself to try it on since the final fitting she'd endured for two horrendously boring hours. At that time, the dress had still consisted largely of the light muslin that tailors used to create their precisely fitted patterns for the final garment. Now, wearing the actual gown, Adora was appalled by how heavy it was. The fabric was a thick, red silk brocade, and it did not like to bend in the places that women normally bent. Instead, it had a habit of bunching up and scratching the princess when she turned too fast or tried to sit down.

This is what I get for telling the seamstress to make me something appropriate and not bothering to involve myself in the details. Ick. Adora supposed the dress was pretty enough for a ball, but for someone used to the freedom of soft, pliable, form-fitting garments, it felt impossibly restrictive and bulky. Muffling, she thought as she scowled at the full, heavy skirts and trailing sleeves. It's like I'm being smothered by my own clothing. I've worn armor that weighed less than this. What was I thinking? And how am I supposed to do my hair when I can't even lift my arms over my head?

Adora was still scowling and grumbling when her wallow in dissatisfaction was interrupted by a peremptory knock. Certain that she was going to look like a witch-haired courtier in overly formal dress, she stomped to her door, skirts hitched up to her knees, and yanked it open. "What?" she barked, uncaring who the caller might be.

"Oh dear," the queen of Eternia sighed, eyeing her up and down. "It's worse than I thought." The princess gaped at her, speechless, until the queen slipped past her and into the room. "Close the door, sweetheart. I don't think everyone in the palace needs to know what we're doing."

Still too nonplussed for words, Adora did as she was bidden, then turned back to face her mother. "What? What are we doing? Isn't this the right kind of dress?" she asked, sounding alarmingly shrill and pathetic to her own ears.

Marlena smiled sympathetically as she shifted a large, unmarked box in her arms. "Let's continue this in a more appropriate setting," she suggested. Adora followed her perplexing parent in the suite's dressing chamber. Her mother set the box down on a be-ruffled divan, then turned and eyed her daughter once more.

"Well?" Adora asked. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong with this hideous thing or not?"

Marlena laughed, and hurried over to give her daughter a tentative hug. Despite the gentleness of the queen's embrace, the princess flinched when hard-edged seams dug into her skin. Pulling back, her mother said, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with that 'hideous thing' provided that you don't mind being dreadfully uncomfortable for the duration of a rather long evening." Chewing delicately on her lower lip for a moment, the queen then added, "I would have helped you choose something more suitable, but you were so determined to do everything on your own... so independent and grown up."

"I am a grown-up," Adora said pitifully. Then, giving her mother a mournful look, she cried, "What am I going to do now? I can't dance in this thing!"

"Well, I know you said you didn't want me to interfere, but..."

"Interfere! Please, interfere!" the princess begged. "I sorry I ever said I could do this on my own. I'd rather face an entire Horde squadron than one couturier. I wasn't raised to this like Adam. I don't even know what they're talking about half the time. Help me. Please?"

Marlena smiled, clearly basking in the smug satisfaction of a parent who has heard the magical words from their adult child, help me. "Of course I'll help, Adora. In fact, I just happen to have brought my midsummer present for you with me, and it just might –"

"A dress!" the princess exclaimed, somewhat annoyed to have had her difficulties so accurately foretold despite her urgent request for assistance. "You had another dress made for me, didn't you?" She stared wide-eyed at her mother. The queen shrugged.

"Something like that. You must remember, sweetheart, that I went through a very similar experience many years ago. I was no more raised in this society than you were." Marlena chuckled wryly, absently smoothing her own, immaculate skirts. "And astronaut training doesn't really cover how to dress sensibly for a ball."

"I... don't entirely understand what being an astronaut means, Mother," her daughter admitted. "Adam seems to think you were some kind of warrior, but Teela says you're the best pilot she's ever seen. And Father says that you arrived here with all the skills of a trained diplomat."

The queen's eyes widened, the smile lines in her face standing out sharply but in no way detracting from her beauty and charm. "Goodness. They said all that, did they?" She shook her head. "Well, we don't have time to go into it all right now, but I'll be happy to tell you all about it later. Maybe even tomorrow if either of us manages to get out of bed before sunset."