Amidst the opulent grandeur of a sumptuous ballroom, bathed in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, stood Liliana. She seemed to shimmer like a star amid the constellations of elegantly dressed guests, a vision of grace and beauty.
Her gown was a masterpiece of silk and lace, a delicate shade of pale lavender that accentuated her porcelain skin. The bodice was adorned with intricate embroidery that seemed to come alive under the warm, golden light. The dress flowed like a cascade of moonlight around her, revealing glimpses of her graceful form as she moved with a dancer's poise.
Her hair, a cascade of red waves, was elegantly swept up, with tendrils of hair framing her face like a halo of soft shadows.
Everyone turned toward the large golden doors as the sounds of a trumpet blared and Prince Darren appeared.
He wore a doublet of deep crimson silk, its surface shimmering like molten rubies in the soft candlelight. The fabric was richly embroidered with intricate gold and silver thread, forming delicate patterns of vines and florals that seemed to come to life with every step he took. The doublet's sleeves billowed gracefully at the shoulders before tapering down to his wrists which were embellished with cuffs of cascading lace.
Liliana busied herself talking to one of the other girls, a pretty brunette who was sure of her luck in becoming the Queen, but her eyes were drawn to Prince Darren. Often. And every time she looked toward him, she found his gaze already upon her, sending delightful shivers down her spine.
"Huh. He's a lot uglier in person."
She rolled her eyes, turning to Jacks, a soft smile on her face. He had colored his hair a black darker than the night. "I will not have you insulting my future husband."
"So?" He spread his arms out and spun, his midnight outfit swirling with him. "What do you think?"
Liliana shrugged, her hands moving to adjust his collar. He never did like wearing clothes properly. "I don't like it. You're a lot more showy. I'll fix it after tonight."
She made to move her hands away but he caught her wrists in his slender fingers. "Liliana, I-"
A cleared throat ripped her hands out of his loose hold. They both turned, cheeks flushing as though they had been caught doing something indecent, to see Prince Darren standing right in front of her.
"Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" he asked, extending a gloved hand towards her. Jacks smiled, tight and stiff, and took a step back, waving his hand toward the Prince.
Her heart fluttered at the request, and she c ouldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. She placed her delicate hand in his as she replied, her voice soft and melodious. "It would be my greatest pleasure, Your Highness."
As they glided onto the dance floor, the world around them faded into a blur, and for that moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. They moved in perfect harmony, their steps synchronized as if they were destined to dance together.
Whispers of admiration and envy rippled through the crowd as they watched them twirl and sway, a living fairy tale unfolding before their eyes. In that fleeting moment, a bond formed between them, uniting a future ruler and an unknown girl in a dance that would be remembered in the annals of royal history.
Liliana woke up to sunlight streaming in from the window, casting her skin in a pale golden glow. Unfamiliar warmth and a rustle in the sheets next to her served as a reminder that she was not alone.
She sat up, the white silk blanket pressed to her chest, and turned to find the stranger from last night lying next to her. His features were partially obscured by tousled hair that clung to his forehead. She traced the contours of his face with her gaze, noting the faint lines of a beard.
Her gaze fell on the grandfather clock facing the bed and she darted to her feet. Shit. She was late.
She kicked the man out and dressed hurriedly, grabbing her black leather-bound book and hailing a carriage to Florence's, which was, according to practically everyone, the best dress shop in the north, made of red bricks and dark columns.
As the brass-handled glass door swung open, a soft, tinkling bell announced her arrival.
The dimly lit interior of the shop, adorned with intricate lace curtains, exuded an air of quiet sophistication. She liked it.
The space was compact, but every inch was a treasure trove of modern fashion. Rich mahogany shelves lined the walls, showcasing a meticulously curated selection of dresses, blouses, and accessories. The smell of fine fabrics, a blend of crisp cotton, and the faint scent of lavender sachets permeated the air.
In the center of the shop, a wooden pedestal held a mannequin dressed in an exquisite, high-necked gown with delicate lace trim. A crystal chandelier suspended from the ceiling cast a soft, warm glow over the scene, making the garments seem to shimmer with a kind of ethereal radiance.
Florence herself, a regal woman with silver hair styled into an elegant updo, greeted her with a warm smile. She was dressed in a tailored blouse and a long, flowing skirt. Her skilled hands gestured gracefully towards the racks of dresses, each one a masterpiece of intricate embroidery, silk ribbons, and lace overlays.
As she explored the shop, her fingers brushed against the fine fabrics and beadwork, and she marveled at the attention to detail in every piece. There were dresses in soft pastels, adorned with delicate floral patterns, and others in deep jewel tones that seemed to whisper of grand soirées and lavish gatherings.
A glass display case held an array of accessories - pearl necklaces, dainty gloves, and silk handkerchiefs, all displayed like precious relics from another era.
They sat down and drank tea while Liliana went over her newest designs, detailing her exact ideas. She was quite particular with how she wanted her dresses to turn out, but by what she had seen, Florence could keep up.
By the time she had returned to her suite, the sun had just about started to set. The moment she stepped in, the sounds of faint sobbing reached her ears.
Marisol, not Evangeline.
Liliana wondered if it was too late for her to turn around and pretend she hadn't come yet when Evangeline saw her. "Good that you're here! We have to leave soon."
She nodded and hummed, eyeing the crumpled ball of paper - an article written by Kristof Knightlinger - with the words Cursed Bride clearly visible. She sighed, turning to Marisol, "You shouldn't care what others think of you. It will only lead to them being disappointed and you hurt."
"He said I'm going to ruin Nocte Neverending!"
She shrugged, "Lean into it, then. Show up to whatever weddings you possibly can and terrify everyone there. You're going back to the south soon, anyways." Her gaze fell to Evangeline's silk flower-covered skirt, a damaged bit where a flower had been, clearly visible. "What happened to your dress?"
"Marisol accidentally tore it. It's alright, it's barely noticeable."
There were five purple threads poking out. Thick threads that should not have broken easily. But Liliana shrugged it off and slipped into her gown.
Her gown was liquid moonlight, made of sapphire blue silk. The delicate lace appliqué on her gown caught the ambient light, glistening like stardust against the deep blue fabric. The lace was adorned with tiny seed pearls and crystals, which sparkled with every step she took. The neckline of the gown plunged downwards from its off-the-shoulder sleeves, revealing just a hint of her porcelain skin.
From the waist, the gown flowed into a voluminous skirt, layers of tulle and organza billowing around her as she moved. Each step was a dance, and the skirt seemed to come alive, swirling and floating like a cascade of dreams.
Her ears were adorned with silver dangling earrings, twirling around a blue sapphire stone and she had a ring made of the same material on her right hand.
"Ladies, I hope you're all ready. It's time to go!" Frangelica's friendly voice accompanied two cheery knocks on their door.
A minute later, they were all heading out of the inn, walking toward a carriage pulled by four black horses.
"I'm so sorry." Evangeline stopped before stepping inside the coach. "I seem to have left my gloves in the room. I'll be right back."
Liliana nodded, her mind focused on the dread of seeing Jacks again as she left with Marisol going up to check on her a few minutes later.
Last night, when she had exited the coach, there'd only been clouds of fog and the arch. But now, Liliana barely saw tonight's new arch in between all the brawny ax jugglers and the acrobats doing flips on the backs of armored horses.
Music from minstrels in puffed sleeves floated around white-haired men dressed as sorcerers with long silver robes and large cauldrons full of everything from sparkling cranberry cider to foaming luck punch. Although more people appeared to be drawn to the woman beside them who sold gem-bright bottles of Fortuna's Fantastically Flavored Water.
It felt like the start of a Northern fairytale - what she had imagined Legend's famous Caraval games to be like - when everything was just a little more than it should have been. The happiness felt touchable, the magic in the air was tasteable, and the sky seemed a little closer to earth.
She cast a quick look about for Jacks, relieved that he wasn't in the throng of people waiting to enter tonight's arch. If he was there, he was probably already inside the actual ball, leaning indolently against a tree and infuriatingly dropping apple cores on the dance floor.
There were only two more people ahead of them now. Both were girls, dressed in gowns with bodices formed of leather book spines and skirts made of love story pages.
The first girl giggled as she approached the entry. It was a different arch from last night. The words May You Find Your Ever After were boldly emblazoned across the top, and instead of a variety of symbols, there were two figures carved on either side - a groom and a bride. The groom's strong face was that of Prince Apollo, but the bride's carving shifted so that she looked like whichever girl was about to step through next.
Liliana could see pure delight on the faces of the girls who entered just ahead. Hope spilled through them, clear as light filtering through glass, as they no doubt imagined that Prince Apollo might choose one of them. Which was unlikely considering Jacks had most definitely spelled him to fall in love with Evangeline.
This evening, she was in the ballroom of an aged stone castle. Most of the ladies - and several of the gentlemen - appeared to be looking upward toward the tapestries and decorative balconies as though in search of Crown Prince Apollo, but just as many seemed to be losing themselves in the party, literally.
All around the great room were tall doors with words like chance, mystery, or adventure burned into the center of them. A pair of young men holding hands slid through the door labeled love. Just beyond them, a girl with straw-gold hair topped off with a paper crown took a shuddering breath as she stepped onto an enormous black-and-white checkered board. There were other players on the board as well, all either wearing bishops' cloaks over their colorful doublets, gloves of pawns, or other identifying markers as they played a type of chess where the human pieces kissed one another instead of kicking each other from the board
"The game is really rather fun," said LaLa, appearing by her side in a spark of shimmering gold and orange. Her strapless gown matched the dragon fire tattoos on her brown arms, and the slit of her skirt flickered around her exposed leg as if it were aflame. "You both look marvelous!"
Liliana smiled, "Candles all over the world must be jealous of you tonight."
"Thank you! I've always wanted to make fire envious." LaLa executed a little bow. "Now back to the game," she continued, nodding toward the chessboard where the young woman in the paper crown was now standing on her tiptoes to kiss a tall young man in a black bishop's cape. The girl's hands were trembling, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and the boy appeared almost as nervous. He stood completely still as though he was both afraid of the kiss and that the girl might change her mind.
"Are you going to give it a go?" LaLa asked. "Liliana, you'd definitely enjoy it."
"Oh, most assuredly." She replied, moving toward where the game was held. "You both keep each other company, I'll be back."
The game ended quicker than she had expected, and Liliana headed toward Evangeline and Lala to see the former watching Jacks.
He was near the edge of the dance floor, lounging on a winged chaise and tossing a black apple with one hand.
His midnight-blue hair was unruly, and his sable half cape was rakishly crooked, hanging over one shoulder to reveal a partially buttoned, smoke-gray doublet.
She stiffened.
She had designed the clothes he was wearing - something so incredibly out of time - and he knew it. And was wearing it for the sole purpose of unnerving her.
He dropped his apple, shoved off the lounge, and approached a nearby girl in a frothy pink sugar gown. A girl who bore an unnerving resemblance to Marisol.
Liliana blinked as if the vision before her might shift and she'd see Jacks conversing with the pink fountain of punch instead. But the girl was definitely Marisol, and she was beaming so brightly, that she could see her glow from across the ballroom.
Marisol smiled coyly and he turned his mouth into a tempting twist, and he gave her a gentlemanly bow. Last night, he had ignored everyone except for her, Evangeline, and Apollo, but now it appeared he was asking Marisol to dance. She doubted it was purely a coincidence. She still had no idea of what sort of game he was really playing.
She turned to Evangeline, noting her expression as though she were about to march over to the couple and physically yank them apart when the entire castle began to rumble and quake. The stone balconies filled with trumpeters in crisp copper coats.
Every head looked up. Then every head turned as a doorlabeled Majesty flew open, and Crown Prince Apollo Acadian rode into the ballroom on a thundering golden horse.
"Your Highness!"
"Prince Apollo!"
"I love you!" people shouted as if they couldn't help themselves.
Apollo looked less refined than he had last night. He'd forsaken his crown, and he didn't even wear a doublet. Tonight, he was dressed like a hunter in rugged boots, wood brown breeches, an open-collared shirt, and a fur vest decorated with crisscrossing leather straps, which held a golden bow and a quiver of arrows against his straight back.
A hunter searching for his prey. That thought made Liliana uneasy although she didn't know why.
His outfit was based on an old story, The Ballad of the Archer and the Fox.
As he searched the ballroom, his eyes burned with the same level of intensity they'd had when he'd watched Evangeline leave the balcony last night.
"I think he wants to find you!" LaLa threaded her arm through Evangeline's, tugging her close as she squealed, "You must be his Fox."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Evangeline murmured. "I still don't know how that story ends."
"No one can remember how that story ends, but it doesn't matter. He's not trying to re-create the tale. He's making a romantic gesture!"
His golden steed slowed its steps and stopped in the center of the ballroom. "Good evening," Apollo announced, his deep voice quieting the sound of his subjects. "I know I'm supposed to ask five ladies to dance, but I can't hold up this full tradition tonight." He paused, looking briefly torn. "This evening, I only wish to dance with one girl."
His dark eyes finally locked onto Evangeline's. Ladies all over the ballroom swooned.
"I knew it," LaLa crowed.
"You're right beside me. He could be looking at you," Evangeline whispered, trying to be as nice as possible.
Liliana rolled her eyes, "We all know he's not."
More swooning followed. Apollo dismounted his horse, and then he was striding their way with unabashed confidence, the way only someone who'd never been rejected could move.
Evangeline unlinked her arm from LaLa's and stepped forward to curtsy. But Apollo stopped a few feet away and reached his arm out for another girl, a very pretty girl in a champagne gown with a shining curtain of straight black hair, topped off with a slender golden circlet. Serendipity.
That didn't make sense. She had said that there was no chance of him choosing her to be his bride.
Liliana quickly took Evangeline's arm once and drew her back into the crowd, but it wasn't before several laughs and snickers reached her ears.
"Did you see her?"
"She thought the prince was coming for her."
"Ignore them," LaLa said. "I thought he was going to ask you, too."
"I suppose I've learned my lesson about listening to what they say in the gossip pages," Evangeline joked, although her cheeks were tinted with embarrassment.
"I knew it."
"She's so sophisticated - and she speaks twenty-seven languages."
"Her family has such good blood. There really was no other choice."
With every comment, Liliana could see Evangeline grow smaller, shrinking inside the crowd.
"Stop it." The girl looked at her at that, confusion marring the space between her brows, "You're embarrassed and that's fine, but you can't show it. Not here."
Not when they were surrounded by people who would pick apart the slightest hint of weakness.
Evangeline extracted herself from her arm. "I think I'm going to go get some punch."
Self-pity doesn't seem to suit her, don't you think so, my Siren?
She froze. The low voice in her head sounded a lot like Jacks. She had never heard his voice like this.
"Excuse me," a deep voice said from right behind them.
She turned around and curtseyed at Prince Apollo, although the girl beside her kept still.
"Evangeline," The voice was a little louder and followed by a brush of soft leather gloves touching her bare shoulder. "Would you mind turning around? Lovely as your back is, I'd much rather see your face."
Liliana stepped back, fading into the crowd that had started to form around them as Evangeline looked over her shoulder.
"Hello again." His voice went hoarse and soft. "You look like a dream come true."
Evangeline finished turning and gave the prince a steady curtsy. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Your Highness."
"I'd hoped that after last night, you'd just call me Apollo." He took her hand to his lips and gave her knuckles a careful, almost reverent kiss.
The prince only swallowed. Several times. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down. He appeared to be at a loss for words. Nervous.
"I thought you were only asking one lady to dance tonight," Evangeline asked.
"I wouldn't have even done that, but there's an unfortunate law that says I had to ask at least one girl." Another swallow, and then his voice went a little deeper. "I would have asked you, but I knew that if you were in my arms, I wouldn't get through an entire dance before doing this."
Apollo went down on one knee.
The whispers were starting up again, and the crowd around the two was increasing, caging them in a circle of ball gowns, silk doublets, and shocked faces.
Liliana's eyes found Jacks and he was staring at her. When he saw her watching, he lifted his glass and smiled, tilting the liquid to his lips. She still had no idea what he was planning.
Apollo took both of Evangeline's hands in his warm grip. "I want you, Evangeline Fox. I want to write ballads for you on the walls of Wolf Hall and carve your name on my heart with swords. I want you to be my wife, and my princess, and my queen. Marry me, Evangeline, and let me give you everything."
Evangeline was silent, but when she finally spoke, her voice was soft and confident. "Yes."