Melia changed her mind about going to see Kallian alone. When she'd tried, she lost her nerve at the transporter to the hospital ward. So, she ended up seeking out Sharla. Though the healer showed no sign of it, Melia expected she was ecstatic that her offer had been accepted.

A mousy nurse in training led the pair to the prince's space. It was in the back corner of the infirmary, away from all the other patients. He pulled open the curtain for them then returned to his duties. Melia hesitated. She couldn't help the images that flitted through her mind like pessimistic dragonflies. Maybe it was a bad idea. She shouldn't be here… But then Sharla gave her a gentle nudge and her courage returned.

Kallian was awake, though his eyes were clouded with fatigue. At the sight of his sister, he perked up. Then he seemed to remember where he was and why he was there. He shrunk back into the bed. "I… didn't expect you to come. And you brought a friend." His head tilted to one side as he studied Sharla. "I've seen you before."

"We met this morning," she said. "Kind of. You spoke with Dunban for the most part. But I was there. I'm Sharla."

His eyebrows drew together. As if he searched through his memory and couldn't access the one he wanted. He nodded anyway. "Ah, yes, of course. Forgive my forgetfulness." Then his attention returned to Melia, eyes catching on the bandages at her neck. "I'm glad you're here. Mostly unharmed."

"What happened?" Her voice trembled as she asked. "You said you'd…" She couldn't decide how to finish the sentence. He'd said he'd get help. He'd said he'd be there when she left the Tomb. It seemed foolish now, to be so concerned that he hadn't waited for her. But the hurt clung to her.

"It's hazy," he said, dropping his gaze to his wrists.

One of his guards coughed, drew their attention. "If I may… I can answer your questions, Your Highness."

The princess nodded once.

And so, the guard began his explanation. He spoke of the encounter with Dunban and the others, Kallian's stress over Melia's safety. When he reached the suicide attempt itself, his voice lost its clarity. He mumbled through a description of the state he'd found the prince in. And, of course, he skimped on the details. He was too happy to move on, praise himself for knowing first aid.

"The emperor is pleased with your service," Melia said stiffly. "It is likely that your actions saved my brother's life. We are all in your debt."

"I wasn't trying to die. It just… got out of hand." Kallian grimaced as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Then he jabbed a finger toward the guard that had spoken. His wan face flushing and voice rising. "And you, acting like a hero. Disgraceful—"

"Kallian!" Melia's eyes were wide.

He let the insult fall away, unfinished. The anger that had taken hold faded. His lips pressed into a tight smile. "I'm fine. Everything is alright."

She wished with every ounce of her existence that she could believe him, but she couldn't. There was something wrong no matter what he said. Even if she couldn't see it. It manifested in actions she failed to prevent. She opened her mouth to argue, but a healer bustled into the room with a rickety cart of supplies.

"Oh, hello. I wasn't aware His Highness had guests," she said, hurriedly bowing to Melia. "Unfortunately, I have to ask you to leave. It's time for his medicine."

"I won't take it." Kallian tried to get out of bed but the doctor pushed him down. His body had no energy to fight back.

Melia glanced between the two of them, frowning. "What sort of medicine is this?"

"A sleep aid. As you can see, your brother has been a… difficult patient." The healer's face gleamed with sweat. She wiped at her hairline then grabbed for a bottle from her cart. It was made of pale green glass, filled with a blackish liquid. "We determined that he should remain asleep for now."

"We?" the princess asked. But the woman brushed aside her concerns. Her skin crawled with unease. "Surely, that's not necessary. He was perfectly behaved before you insisted on the medicine." Well, not exactly. But the medic didn't need to know that.

Sharla tensed beside her but stayed silent. She knew she should do the same – her royal training demanded it. Obey authority, don't speak out, handle disputes through official channels. And yet, the doctor's attitude needled her. She gritted her teeth. What would her father say if she made a scene? Would he be proud that she'd stood up for what she believed in? Or would he be disappointed? No… He couldn't possibly agree with this treatment.

"He didn't consent."

"He isn't of sound mind. As his physician—"

"Then it is his family's decision, is it not?" She set back her shoulders in an attempt to make herself appear larger. More threatening. "In which case, choices regarding his care are my responsibility."

The healer turned to one of Kallian's guards and the sleeping draught sloshed in its vial. "Please see Her Highness and her companion out. I have work to do."

Before the guard could move, Kallian sat up again, grabbed the man's arm. "I'll take the medicine. Just… leave her alone." His voice was breathy as if even those short sentences were enough to exhaust him. He shifted to face Melia. The color had drained from his cheeks, leaving him ashen. "Go. It's okay."

"But what of his work with the Ministries?" she said, her will to fight flagging. "How will he fulfill his duties if he isn't permitted to wake?"

"As I said, he isn't of sound mind." The healer passed the vial to Kallian and wiped her hands on her wrinkled apron. She watched the prince gulp down the sedative. When he finished, she snatched the glass away, focused on Melia again. "He's no longer fit to carry out such tasks. I'm sorry."

Sharla wrapped an arm around her friend. "Come on…"

Melia let herself be guided out of the hospital ward. They stepped onto the teleporter, wound their way through the palace. She wasn't sure where they were going. It didn't matter. Wherever it was, she wouldn't be happy. Eventually, they ended up in the garden outside the Imperial Villa. Sharla gently pulled her down into the grass next to a patch of delicate pink flowers.

"I don't know how things work around here, but that was shocking." She plucked a blade of grass, twisted it into knots. "That isn't normal, is it?"

"No."

"Well, who's in charge? We can go make a complaint."

She thought about it for a minute. As much as she wanted to, she was hesitant to involve the Minister of Health. Something was wrong. With how strangely the doctor had been acting and the willingness of Kallian's guards to aid her… It all culminated in a bad feeling in her stomach. Suspicion mixed with dread. What if the minister was a part of whatever was going on? And why couldn't she be smarter, see through to the heart of their scheme?

"Minister Eirena," she said at last. "She oversees everything that occurs in Alcamoth's medical community. Every hospital that opens, every new surgery or treatment plan. She has a hand in all of it."

Sharla nodded slowly. "Sounds like a powerful woman. How well do you know her?"

"Personally, I've only spoken with her a few times. But she is very close with my stepmother." She paused to sniff at one of the nearby blooms. It had a sweet scent, like honey. Her racing mind calmed a bit as she breathed in the sweetness. Then she got to her feet. "I could use some backup, I think. My knowledge of medicine is limited."

The Homs woman brightened. She stood and linked her arm through Melia's. "I might be able to help you with that."

Half an hour later, they were seated in Minister Eirena's office. It was a hexagonal room on the top floor of the Ministry of Health. The upper levels were where all ministry business occurred, while the lower levels served as a public hospital.

"I apologize for the wait, Your Highness," the minister said as she entered the office. She sunk into her high-backed chair with a sigh. "What can I do for you?"

Eirena was an older Homs Entia, around the same age as the emperor. Her blue grey hair fell around her lined face in loose ringlets. Sharp eyes studied her two visitors as she awaited the princess's reply.

"I assume you've heard the news. About Kallian." The scrutiny set Melia on edge.

"The Eryth Sea incident," she said, unclasping her necklace. A dull key was attached to the chain in place of a pendant. She unlocked one of her desk drawers, flipped through files until she found Kallian's. It landed on the desk with a thwack. Her finger traced across lines of neat script. When she reached about halfway down the first page, she frowned. "Unfortunately, I cannot discuss his information with you." She snapped the file shut.

"Then it's a good thing I didn't come here for a discussion," Melia said coolly.

A knife-slash smile flashed across the minister's face. "You sound just like Yumea. But you should be careful who you take that tone with. It's alienating." She paused to chuckle. "Oh, come now, don't make that face. I'm only giving advice."

Melia bristled at the patronizing tone, but she smoothed away her scowl. She had to remember why she was here. For Kallian. "I appreciate your concern. Now, if I may, I'd like to make you aware of…" Her mouth went dry and her tongue felt like it had swollen to twice its normal size. She couldn't finish.

Sharla stepped in, summarizing all they had learned at Kallian's bedside. The suicide attempt and the doctor's plan to keep him unconscious indefinitely. As she spoke, the minister's face paled, her smug expression gave way to horror. Eirena stood, almost toppling her chair.

"I told them not to—" She bit off the rest of the sentence. Then she grabbed a pen, scribbled a few hasty notes into the prince's file. A violent strikethrough of something that had already been written, followed by her signature. "Thank you for informing me. I trust you can see yourselves out?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Bundling the file underneath her arm, she swept out of the office like a tornado. The door slammed in her wake.

"That went… well?" Sharla said, rising slowly.

"Better than I'd expected." Melia led the way out of the room and down the corridor to the transporter. "It seems I'm in your debt again."

"We're friends; there's no such thing as debt."

The thundering of indistinct chatter infiltrated the balcony's twin doors. With trembling fingers, Melia adjusted her tiara. As she did so, her hands brushed against her hair which had been made coarse and stiff by the unnamed products the stylists had used. She grimaced at the feeling. Was it really necessary? She checked her reflection in the mirror-like surface of the doorframe. Her hair looked ridiculous, piled atop her head in a mass of curls and braids. At least her makeup was fine. A little darker than she preferred but it was manageable.

She picked at the thick choker that concealed her bandages. It was made of the same silvery metal as her tiara and studded with shards of topaz. Normally, she wouldn't have minded wearing it – it was pretty enough, just not her taste. But it chafed against her tender skin, leaving her healing wound itchier and sorer than usual.

Catlaina stood a few feet away, her back to the princess. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since that morning. Before the Tomb Trial. The guard's question still echoed in her mind: Are you sure?

Of course, at the time, they were talking about another matter – whether Dunban's offer to walk her back to her room had sexual implications. But now, in her head, they shifted to a more general meaning. The arrangement itself. It was out of her control; she had to be sure. There was no other option.

She tilted her chin up, dropped her hands back to her sides, and turned toward the transporter behind her. As if on cue, her father materialized with her husband-to-be. A gracious smile pasted itself over her lips, though it was subdued, almost transparent. Her father examined her then nodded. The approval would've eased her nerves any other night. But tonight, her heart lodged in her throat, her hands quivered.

In just a few moments, the entire city of Alcamoth would know of her engagement. And that scared her more than a whole hoard of Telethia. Perhaps they would give her sidelong glances as she passed them on the street, full of disapproval and unvoiced questions. They would wonder how such a thing could be organized in only a matter of days. At best, they'd assume she couldn't defend herself against royal pressures and outside forces. At worst… She tried not to imagine the names they might call her. Or think about the vicious rumors they'd spread for fun.

"It is time." Her father's voice boomed in her ears, jolting her out of her head. He yanked open the balcony doors, let them slam against the metallic walls with a deafening clang. The audience beyond fell into an expectant hush.

Melia flinched, a motion she disguised as a shiver. When she recovered, she took hold of Dunban's arm. Her eyes studied his features as he led her out onto the terrace. He didn't seem nervous, like she'd hoped. Rather, his face was impassive, gaze dark with focus. She wondered what he was thinking about, if he'd noticed her scrutiny, if he was at all bothered by the crowd that now judged his every move.

They stopped just before the edge of the platform, yet were close enough to see the dizzying drop to the audience below. Each time she snuck a peek at her people, her stomach flipped and twisted. Wind – even the most powerful gale she could summon – wouldn't save her if she fell from such a height. She choked down her fear. Giant screens embedded in the dome surrounding Alcamoth projected her face to all. She couldn't afford to display any weakness. Her fingers tightened around Dunban's bicep, hoping to Bionis that he wouldn't notice.

The corners of his mouth twitched in a brief smirk. Heat rushed into her cheeks as her hope was dashed. He was too perceptive. Perhaps he could even hear her heart, pounding painfully against her breastbone. Would he think her pathetic for her apparent dependence on him? It was possible. Yet she suspected he had enough sense not to insult her.

"—and I ask that you give them your blessing," the emperor was saying as he gestured to her and Dunban. The mass of people clogging the plaza didn't make a sound. Utter silence stifled the cool night air, turning it heavy with trepidation. "They shall be wed in three days. You are all invited to attend the ceremony and partake in the feast!"

At the mention of free food, the crowd broke out in half-hearted cheers. Of course, she'd been right. They didn't approve. They thought she was weak and a whore and… She glanced down to assess the damage. A hot gust of air billowed up into her face and shadows formed at the edges of her vision. Dizzy, disoriented, she swayed on her feet. Dunban turned to her, spoke words she couldn't understand. Then he guided her backward until they were hidden from the thousands of eyes that had been trained on them. He took hold of both her shoulders – grimacing as he moved his injured arm – and steadied her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I…" She trailed off, unable to finish the lie.

Catlaina appeared at her side, eyes appraising. "You're very pale, Your Highness." She gently tugged Melia out of Dunban's grasp, shooting the Homs man a dirty look while the princess was distracted. "Please, allow me to escort you to your chambers early. It's been a trying day for you."

She'd nearly forgotten about what she'd endured during the Tomb Trial that morning. It seemed hundreds of worlds away when she tried to reflect on it. The whole scene was a blur, smothered in a colorless haze. She didn't force herself to remember. Doing so would only cause more pain. Those memories did her little good. She'd received her ancestor's blessing and escaped with her life. That was all that mattered.

As if to spite her, her mind dangled little details just out of reach, shrouded in darkness. She could visualize an indistinct shape, gliding beneath the shadows, but she couldn't coax it out of hiding. Not that she really wanted to. Maybe she wasn't meant to see those details. Maybe, if she did, she'd spiral. It was safer to just let it go.

The scenery of the Imperial Palace flew by her. She wondered if, when the sun rose anew, she would be able to remember their flight. It was more dream than reality. Flashes of familiarity between blank spaces. The mundane tangled with subtle horrors, faceless people. She wanted to wake up.

They stepped off the teleporter into the Great Hall. She paused and turned to Donnis – the usual night guard – but found Kaelin standing in his place. The young High Entia had dark circles beneath his eyes, his shoulders slumped forward. Catlaina urged her to keep moving but…

"Kaelin, where is Donnis?" she asked. The concern flooded through her, clearing away enough of the fog to let her focus. "You look exhausted."

"I haven't gotten used to my new sleep schedule just yet," he replied with a yawn. "Minister Caul thought it would be best if I switched to the night shift… But don't worry, Your Highness. It's a minor adjustment."

His words confused her, but she didn't press him. After all, what Caul chose to do with his men was none of her concern. Even if there was a problem – overworking the soldiers, for instance – she wasn't the one to take care of it. Kallian was. And, in extreme cases, the emperor himself would step in. She supposed that the latter would have to be the case for now. As long as her brother was ailing.

Tremors ran through her body as she recalled her visit to the infirmary. Nausea churned her stomach. She wished the memories from the hospital ward were as vague as those from the Tomb. But they were clear. The thick black medicine, the doctor's disconcerting behavior. And Kallian giving up his bodily autonomy. For her. The guilt intensified the nausea.

"This is completely unnecessary!" The enraged words broke through her thoughts before they could make her vomit.

She cast a grateful glance toward the speaker. Lucio. The High Entia was no longer dressed in the uniform of an imperial guard, though he still wore his sword in a scabbard at his hip. She noted the time. His shift had ended about two hours ago. He stopped in front of Kaelin, noticed the princess with a jolt, and offered a hasty bow. But her presence didn't assuage his anger.

"If anyone should be taken off the day shift, it's Galvin. He started it." Lucio seized Kaelin's wrist. "Come on. Let's tell the good ol' minister what we think about his schedule change."

"I… You know I can't." He pulled his arm from the older man's grip. Then he rested his hand on Lucio's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "Look, I don't mind the night shift. It's quiet, gives me some time to really think about things. And Galvin won't bother me anymore… So don't waste your breath on Minister Caul. He won't listen." A sad smile tugged at his lips. He slid his hand down to Lucio's upper arm, gave it a light squeeze. "I'm fine. I promise."

"But what about—" Lucio cut himself off as his gaze shifted to Melia. Coughing lightly, he let his question remain unspoken.

A slight blush bloomed in Kaelin's cheeks and he withdrew his hand. "I'm sure we'll manage. And Donnis will cover for me. Hopefully…"

"Princess, please, let's not stay here," Catlaina said, interrupting the conversation and fixing both men with a pointed glance. "You're not well enough to be standing around, listening to idle chat. We must get you to bed so you can rest and heal."

Melia simply nodded, too tired to fight against her guard's insisting. She bid Lucio and Kaelin a good night then let herself be herded toward the Villa. The walk wasn't a long one, but by the time she reached the transporter, she swore she'd traveled several miles. And more walking awaited her when she arrived outside her home. She groaned inwardly, trudged onward. The comfort of a warm bed and sheets to hide beneath was all that kept her going. Once in bed – hair and makeup left as they had been for the announcement – it wasn't long before the nothingness of sleep consumed her.

"When were you two going to tell us?" Sharla demanded, placing her hands on her hips and huffing in disbelief. "Did you think we wouldn't find out about this?"

Dunban sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Ever since he'd accepted the emperor's deal, he'd planned at least a dozen ways to reveal that he intended to marry Melia. A dozen ways and a hundred unique scenarios. This wasn't one of them. But the truth was the only option now – his friends deserved it. The air was dry as he gulped it down. Like inhaling razorblades. He searched for the proper words. The ones that would make them all agree that what he'd done was justified. Nothing felt right on his tongue. So he settled for a straightforward explanation of what had happened after the emperor summoned him. Even the part about using the arrangement as a bargaining chip to get them into Prison Island.

"It's my end of the deal," he said. His gaze flitted from one friend to the next, trying not to look at any of them too closely. They weren't pleased, to say the least. Only Reyn seemed happy, but his triumphant grin was wiped away by Sharla's elbow striking him in the ribs.

"Riki angry!" the Heropon announced as he bounced furiously on the stark center table of Whitewing. After the announcement, Sharla had called a 'team meeting' and this was the only private place they could think of. "Dun Dun not love Melly. Dun Dun need to treasure Melly like Riki treasure Oka."

"I agree with Riki," Shulk said. "This isn't honest and she's going to get hurt."

Dunban pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending headache. How could they not support his decision? The entire point of coming to Alcamoth was to receive imperial sanction to enter Prison Island and avenge Fiora. And now that he'd secured such permission, they spurned him for the method he used to acquire it.

"What about my sister?" He rounded on Shulk, dark eyes ablaze. The boy shrunk beneath the withering stare. But Dunban didn't back off. If he could make anyone understand, it would be Shulk. "I did this for her. We can avenge her."

He could see the war waging within his friend. The part that hungered for revenge and the part that knew Dunban's actions were unacceptable clashed on some ethereal battlefield. And he watched the bloodshed through blue eye windows, wishing for a favorable outcome. Before Shulk could answer, however, Sharla pushed into the conversation once more.

She rested a hand on Shulk's shoulder as she came to stand beside him. Her lips curled into a deep frown and her usually gentle features were rigid with fury. The boy relaxed.

"Shulk," Dunban tried again, voice steadier, lighter than before. If only to avoid provoking Sharla any further. "We could put this matter to rest – put her to rest – once and for all. Just us. The two people who care the most about her." A note of desperation leaked into his tone at the end.

"The answer is no," Sharla said. Her anger melted seamlessly into her typical kindness, as if it had never existed in the first place. She released Shulk's shoulder and stepped closer to Dunban. Eyes watery, she clasped her friend's upper arm. A show of support. "We've all lost loved ones. We understand your pain, trust me. But what you've done isn't okay. Think about how Melia must be feeling… Does she know?"

"It… hasn't come up." His certainty wavered. What if they were right? What if he hurt her in pursuit of revenge? The pain he could cause her… he had to tell himself it'd be worth it.

Sharla shook her head sadly. "Tell her the truth." Then, without even the slightest warning, her anger flared up again. "Or else I will." She sighed, letting the exhale calm her. A crafted smile took over her lips as she looked around to each of her companions. "Well, now that that's settled, I think I'll get some dinner. Anyone else?"

Dunban stayed rooted to his spot as the rest of the group filed out of Whitewing.

Reyn hesitated at the transporter once the others disappeared. "Hey, uh, I'll still go with ya," he called out. "If you want, I mean… Um… Congrats on the engagement, by the way…"

The headache he'd been holding off struck at full force. He massaged his temple with two fingers, trying to ease the pain. Resisting the urge to groan, he turned his back to his remaining friend. "Goodnight, Reyn."

By morning, Melia was in much better health. The dizziness had abated and so had the feeling that she was moving through a dream. She felt almost weightless as she took down her hair and scrubbed off her makeup. A proper sleep really could work wonders. And, admittedly, the night before the trial had been… rough. Better than nothing, of course. But the rest she'd just woken from was the ideal. Long, dreamless, and it didn't linger.

She took her breakfast in her bedroom. Alone, aside from the maid that served her. It occurred to her that she hadn't eaten at all the previous day. With everything that had happened, it must've slipped her mind. The attack in the Tomb, Kallian's suicide attempt, her meetings with Minister Eirena and Minister Caul, the announcement. All of it had consumed her. She was sure her hunger had contributed to her illness the previous night. At least it made her breakfast taste incredible…

When she finished her food, she dressed and set out for the day. Catlaina wasn't outside her door like she usually was in the morning. No one was. Perhaps that should've set off alarm bells in her head. But it didn't. She was too glad to accept the peace when it presented itself to her.

Most of her tasks for the morning were contained within the palace, anyway. There would be plenty of guards around so she didn't need Catlaina's hovering. Besides, she thought Caul's new rule was a bit overkill. She'd told him as much at their meeting yesterday but he wouldn't budge. He insisted the higher security was necessary after Kallian's incidents. So, she moved on, inquired after Kennet – her brother's personal guard. The minister refused to relay any specific information. Just that his 'case' was being reviewed. Whatever that meant. She didn't want to dwell on it.

Despite her budding anxiety about the day's plans, she met every person she passed with a smile. There weren't many still in the Villa at that hour. Just a guard stationed outside Kallian's door, a few more scattered throughout the corridors, and several servants. Everything was so normal. She let herself pretend a little longer that nothing had changed.

She stepped onto the teleporter and landed in the Great Hall. Once out of the Villa, the illusion broke. Her father was expecting her. So that she could select a wedding planner. How wonderful…

"Congratulations, Your Highness." The voice, laced with poison, came from behind.

Melia turned in time to see Minister Lorithia approaching her. Had she come from the Villa too? The thought sent a chill through her bones. She slowed to a complete stop, allowing the minister to catch up. Her lips pressed into a tight smile, but she didn't reply. That was one of the only ways to get ahead of Lorithia's cutting remarks. She couldn't play her game if her opponent didn't participate.

The minister frowned. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and tried again. "A three-day engagement is quite unusual. Of course, I understand. The common people, however…" Her face morphed into a mask of pity as she trailed off.

"It was to be expected," Melia said after a pause.

"Certainly," Lorithia agreed smoothly. Her manufactured pity shifted to something crueler. "Although, there have been some repulsive theories spreading around."

The sentence was so obviously bait that Melia knew she shouldn't bite. But the earlier doubt wriggled in her stomach like worms. It would be irresponsible not to have some idea of what her people were saying about her. Right?

"Enlighten me." She sighed out the words, hoping to come off as disinterested.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly." The effect of the minister's exaggerated horror was undercut by the twitching of her lips. As if she couldn't quite hold back her smirk. "I refuse to participate in gossip. It's beneath me."

Melia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The Minister of Research was exactly the type to trade salacious details with anyone she deemed worthy of her time. Anything to seize the upper hand. She couldn't blame the woman. Knowledge was a powerful tool and, at times, weapon. This whole interaction was just a way for Lorithia to add more information to her collection. And she saw through the charade easily. She wouldn't give her anything.

"I'm sure it is. Now, I really—"

"Well, since you insist, Your Highness…" Lorithia smiled wickedly, didn't even attempt to hide her twisted joy. "The commoners are so unimaginative. You owe the Homs a life debt, you're pregnant. Dull. You could've come up with those on your own."

She made a show of checking her nails. They were styled into claws and painted a purple so dark they were almost black. Then she lowered her hand, sneered. But the expression seemed almost pained. Not the self-satisfied smirk Melia had been expecting. "A word of advice, Princess: put some distance between yourself and His Highness."

"Kallian? Why?"

Lorithia regained her arrogance. If the warning had been sincere, she was now back to the game. But the fun of it must have waned. When she delivered her killing line, she didn't revel in it. "They think you're trying to pollute his bloodline."

Nausea stabbed through Melia's stomach. She clamped a hand over her mouth, took a moment to recover. A hundred questions buzzed in her head. Who'd said such things? Why would they ever think that Kallian…? Her temper flared. "That's vile. How dare you slander him!"

The minister spread her hands in surrender. "I am merely a messenger."

"This conversation is over." She whirled around, storming down the corridor. She hated her anger. She hated the rumors. And, most of all, she hated how Lorithia could always get under her skin. For all she knew, the minister had made it up on the spot.

But it felt too realistic. Something someone who hated her would spread for fun. How many people believed it? What if there was worse gossip? Although, she didn't know how it could get much worse… Her mind stuttered as she tried to invent more heinous tales. As if it was trying to protect her. So, she let it go. Whatever happened, she would just have to face it and, perhaps, taking Lorithia's advice would help. It certainly couldn't hurt. Just stay away from Kallian until Alcamoth accepts her engagement.

A hand brushed against her arm, jerking her out of her thoughts. She flinched away from the touch as her heartrate increased to the point of causing physical pain. Yet, she managed to keep her face a placid mask. When she turned, it was a smooth motion. Deliberate.

Minister Asdis beamed at her from behind her sharp-framed glasses. The spectacles balanced at the end of her nose, slightly crooked. But the minister didn't seem to notice. Or, if she did, she didn't have a hand to correct it. Her left arm linked through Melia's right and her other one cradled the usual stack of documents and writing utensils.

"Your Highness, I'm so glad I caught up with you!" she exclaimed, practically dragging the princess along behind her as she strode briskly toward the throne room. "Lorithia visited me last night, after the announcement. Congratulations, by the way – he's so handsome! Anyway, she had an exquisite idea for me to propose. To you." She paused, eyes narrowing as they passed Lecrough on the stairs. Then the expression vanished and she continued. "See, what if, rather than hiring an expensive wedding planner, I take that role, free of charge? Wouldn't that be such fun?"

Melia's skin prickled. Of course it was Lorithia's idea… "Uh… Yes, I suppose so, but—"

"I knew you would agree!" Asdis said, pulling her captive toward the Ascension Hall teleporter. "Good morning, Donnis!" Without waiting for the guard to respond, she stepped onto the faintly glowing platform. Melia stumbled after her. She spoke again the moment they both materialized. "We must settle this with your father, but I'm sure he'll have no objections."

"He certainly will be pleased, but—"

"Oh, I'm so eager to begin, I can scarcely contain myself!" She took a breath. A long one. As if her lungs had been so occupied with talking that they hadn't taken in fresh air in several minutes. Her warm blue eyes shifted to the princess. "Were you saying something, Your Highness? Please do forgive me. I tend to go on a bit." Then she turned her attention back to the throne. "Wait just a moment. I'll speak with the emperor and get this whole situation sorted. Don't worry!"

Melia sighed as she watched Asdis trot into the Audience Chamber, leaving fallen pens and papers in her wake. So, this woman was to be in charge of the wedding planning… She knew it wouldn't be as bad as she imagined. That little habit of hers – assuming the worst – arose and she tried to force the negativity away. Surely, the Minister of Records wasn't completely useless. Otherwise, a more suitable candidate would've been chosen.

Her flaws were minor ones. Disorganized, overly talkative, easily sidetracked… Melia froze. Those traits could be taken advantage of. After all, if the minister lost focus, the princess could substitute her own ideas into the plan. As long as Asdis didn't forget a vital part of the wedding, everything would be fine.

But if she did forget, it would only buy Melia more time.

A subtle thrill of excitement surged through her. This could be her chance to… She let the feeling crash into hopelessness. Her chance to do what, exactly? There was no convincing her father to change his mind once it was made up. The extra time would only give her more sleepless nights, fretting about that which she couldn't control.

Although, more time to get to know Dunban wouldn't be such a bad thing…

Asdis's heels clicked against the glass stairs as she descended. Melia smiled to her, though she wasn't sure if the expression was anything more than polite.

"All the details have been figured out," the minister said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Let us begin."