It's Part 1 of the Imperial Ball arc!

Thank you all for your patience and for your lovely and kind comments! It really does keep me going to see your support, enthusiasm, and hypothesis, and I hope you enjoy the next parts ?

.

.

.

.

"And that's when I said: 'Warehouse? More like where house - you've blown up the entire building'!"

The table laughed at Mr Blackbell's joke, and Anya smiled as she took another sip of her champagne - but none laughed more heartily than Loid Forger.

"One would think a seasoned technician would know the difference between ammonium citrate and ammonium nitrate," he chuckled, genuinely entertained by Mr Blackbell's story. "It's lucky that you hadn't yet had the rest of the stock moved over!"

"A toast! To intact warehouses and competent technicians!" Mr Blackbell raised his glass once again, the redness on his apple cheeks making his suit look even more purple, somehow.

Yor enthusiastically joined him in his toast, miraculously managing to keep all liquid inside the wine glass. "To intact techniciansh! And competent warehoushes!"

"She's only had one glass…" Damian whispered to Anya, the surprise in his voice masked by another wave of raucous laughter.

Anya nodded quietly. "Mama is the biggest lightweight on the planet."

"How have I not seen her drunk before? I had dinner at your house!"

"She only pretended to drink wine in front of you to look normal," Anya quietly explained. "She's really letting loose here though…"

She really was. Yor Forger had enthusiastically joined in the conversation of the table, to the point that Anya had to rein her in several times. The last mishap almost made Damian choke on his drink:

"Yor, my dear - Anya mentioned that you love plants! My wife kept a beautiful tropical conservatory, she especially loved the azaleas-"

"Oh that one's my favourite too! It's very effective," Yor smiled happily.

If Mr Blackbell, or any of the Watkins' had noticed Yor's strange responses, none of them commented on it. (Only Damian leaned towards Anya to whisper into her ear: "I think I'm beginning to understand your parents a bit more…")

In fact, Bill Watkins and his parents had joined into the conversation with almost as much gusto as Mr Blackbell, and the booming laughter of Mr Watkins managed to make everything within sight vibrate from his bass tones, while his wife - statuesque in her own right - looked on in faux-disapproval, though her lips curled up elegantly at the edges. So, Anya felt grateful to be seated right between Becky and Damian, two of her favourite people in the world, who both knew her deepest secret, and still loved her despite her unsavoury past.

Warmth bloomed in her chest, and Anya let it wash through her. She had had enough of crying for a long time, and she wanted to enjoy the night with her best friends as she was supposed to, just like a normal student of Eden College.

Only if she made herself forget about everything else…

Anya's eyes fell to the scrunched-up pieces of card on the floor. She didn't miss when they had arrived at the tables for the evening after receiving their welcome drinks, and Damian darted ahead, crushed two of the name cards into his palm, and dropped them under the table.

Under the watch of anyone else, it could have been a sleight-of-hand trick, but Anya had grown up watching movements and body language more subtle like this. But she didn't challenge him, didn't ask, didn't let him know that she had seen it. She already knew whose names were on those cards. Why the school even bothered to continue to save seats for them was a mystery.

The Imperial Ball was the event of the Eden College school year that brought parents together for them to coalesce and mingle, congregate and negotiate, and quite frankly, it was almost unheard of for a parent of an Imperial Scholar not to attend. All the elite made an appearance - no exceptions.

Except…

She couldn't imagine how he must have been feeling, and even worse, she couldn't even tune in. Her powers were still very much on the fritz, and it left her with a sense of impotence that she didn't know how to manage, or fix. She knew that he felt embarrassed to be the lone Desmond representative, but she imagined that he felt even more embarrassed to wish his father could be there, and at the same time, grateful that his evening could be free of that man's imposing presence. Anya was certainly grateful for it. If Donovan had indeed turned up for the dinner, she had no idea what she would have done.

How does one sit quietly and converse with the man who oversaw your childhood trauma - as if nothing had happened? As if she didn't know the part he had to play in her experimentation? She didn't know if she had the restraint.

She remembered Damian's crushing fear that her hatred of Donovan would extend to him, exactly because of the past that had tied them together. So, Anya purposefully brightened her smile as she took her seat next to him, showing him her appreciation, but also hoping that she would be able to take his mind off the shadows that haunted the both of them. All throughout dinner, she oriented herself to him, touched his elbow, his back, held his band, distracted him when she felt him pulling himself away, encouraged him to enjoy the ten courses of the most wonderful food she'd ever had.

"Ten courses?" Anya had gasped, aghast. "I can't eat that much!"

"They're tiny portions," Damian reassured her. "Trust me, if there is one thing good about these events, it's the food."

Not only was she so busy looking out for Damian, but she noticed that Becky was quieter than usual, even fidgeting with the ends of her elbow-length opera gloves underneath the table, matching her peacock-blue halterneck dress. She sat straight and ladylike, her dress shimmering in the low lighting. She covered her mouth when she orchestrated a laugh, and smiled politely when any of the parents asked her a question, but Anya knew for a fact that Becky's restraint could only hold for so long.

Bill had leaned down to whisper in Becky's ear a few times, and each time she gave a reassuring smile, but Anya knew her best friend well.

Anya waited for the adults to pick up their conversation again, before she leaned over delicately to whisper into Becky's ear.

"Is everything okay?"

Becky jumped. "Did you read my mind or something?"

Anya was taken aback, and the shock and hurt must have shown on her face for Becky to realise her mistake.

"Oh, sorry! That was just a bad joke… um…I'm not being too obvious am I'?" Becky worried.

Anya mentally shook herself off. Becky's just nervous, she's not trying to hurt me.

"It's just… you're quieter than usual. Are you okay?"

Anya watched as Becky surreptitiously scanned the rest of the table, noting that her father had once again captured the full attention of the table, and had launched into another Blackbell exclusive. Anya understood immediately.

"Is it your dad?"

Becky flashed Anya a guilty look, and leaned in close to whisper back.

"I thought everything would be okay, but it is weird having him back - he's been away for months so I'm used to running the estate without him, but I don't know…" She sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I have definitely missed him, and I really wanted to catch him up with everything that happened at school, but it's also, like, so weird? Like sometimes he'll ask the staff to do something and it clashes with what I've already told them not to do, and honestly it is a little … frustrating…"

Their conversation got cut short by the man himself.

"In any case, I am so proud - Becky's last star! I almost cried when she told me!"

"Daddy!" Becky laughed, having snapped back into her usual persona. "Don't lie! You were like a broken faucet!"

Mr Blackbell took her correction in his stride and wiped an invisible tear from his eye.

"Ah yes fine - I admit it! I'm a weeper! But what better joy is there than being proud of your own children? And what better way to express it than through the tools we are born with?" He raised his glass again. "A toast! To our brilliant children!"

Glasses raised again to the centre, accompanied with a lighthearted and joyful "Cheers!", but as her glass touched her lips once again, Anya's eyes flicked to Damian.

It was almost imperceptible, but only because she was sitting right next to him did she notice his posture stiffen ever so slightly, how he reached to pull at his tie that was slightly too tight, and how he hid his tight smile with a drink from his glass.

Anya reached for his hand under the table, rubbing her thumb on the backs of his knuckles, and he jolted at her warm touch, looking at her with surprise. His golden eyes sparkled with the warm lights of the room, the gentle candlelight bringing out the honeyed tones in his irises. She wanted to look at them forever.

Her head still felt a little too fuzzy to trust that she would be able to project her thoughts accurately, but she gave his hand a squeeze, hoping to convey some of the words that were in her heart.

I'm here with you. I'm proud of you. I love you.

With the final course cleared away, the guests of the Imperial Ball rose from their seats and followed the flow of the crowd towards the drawing room, where the fruity aroma of expensive port mingled with the warming smell of imported coffee.

As they walked, Anya drifted further back from her parents, opting to link her arm through Damian's.

"You look amazing," she smiled at him, and he blushed fiercely.

"Oh - I was - I meant to tell you - you look-"

There was a flash of chartreuse, and a familiar face, and Becky gasped loudly behind them.

"Hey, is that Emile over there with Alice?"

Damian spluttered on his words. "Emile?" and then he gaped openly at Becky. "Alice?!"

"Oh I see them!" Anya joined in, and started to wave them over. "Hey guys!"

"I can't believe this," Damian muttered under his breath. "Emile?" He shook his head again. "And Alice?"

"It's not that hard to believe," Anya murmured back. "It's about time somebody noticed how nice he is."

Damian stared at her. "How long have you known about this?!"

But much to his chagrin, Anya only gave him one of her smug smiles.

Out of sight, Becky furrowed her brows together, but then she leaned forward to Anya, hopefully out of earshot of Bill: "Did you seriously know about Alice and Emile before me? And you still didn't know about Desmond?!"

Anya looked away sheepishly, just as Damian fixed Becky with a confused stare.

"Ah, um, I should probably tell you," Anya whispered. "Becky knows about my-"

But she couldn't finish her sentence, because suddenly Emile and Alice had joined their little group. Alice glowed in a delicate chartreuse satin dress, with a silky cowl neck and thin straps, and she had cut her hair to just below her jaw, emphasising her high cheekbones.

Meanwhile, she had to admit that Emile had scrubbed up well beside her, smiling awkwardly, although with a hint of pride. His tie even matched her dress, a clear signal that their pairing was planned.

Emile lifted his hand from the small of Alice's back, only a gentle touch from guiding her through the crowd towards them.

"H-hey Boss," he started, looking a little embarrassed. "So - uh - cool party right?"

"Emile! You sneaky bastard!" Damian gave him a hearty slap on the back. "You didn't tell me you would be here, too!"

And to everyone's surprise except Anya's he grinned broadly - after all, one of his best friend's had just turned up out of the blue. Damian had been so reserved all evening, no doubt on his best behaviour in front of all their parents, but suddenly having one of his brothers by his side gave him just that bit more freedom to be himself.

As the boys launched into familiar banter, Anya turned her attention to Alice, who looked away quickly.

"It's so good to see you, Alice!" She gave her a genuine smile. "And you brought Emile! That's so awesome of you! We're going to have such a great night together!"

"Th-thanks," Alice smiled shyly, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I'm serious!" said Anya. "It's so cool to have more friends at the Ball, Damian's been worried that the Ball would be just like last year, so honestly, I bet Emile would be great for-"

"No, not that," Alice interrupted, and inhaled sharply. "Thanks for… being so nice…"

Anya blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You know… because I… confessed to… um…" Alice petered off, blushing slightly.

"Oh, that," Anya chuckled good-naturedly. "Consider it forgotten! Water under the bridge!"

And it was Alice's turn to smile. "Yeah, since you know he's only ever had eyes for you."

"Um, well," Anya blushed, once again embarrassed that Damian's crush on her was such common knowledge. "I just wish I figured it out a little earlier…"

Alice softened, and lowered her drink a little.

"I have to admit, I wasn't sure about your intentions for a while. You never seemed interested in him like that, even though our class has been shipping you two since forever-"

Anya's blush deepened.

"Sorry," Alice conceded apologetically. "I imagine that was a bit awkward for you."

"Just a little," Anya laughed, nodding.

"But…" Alice relented. "Seeing you two together… It's really obvious that you both care about each other, so, I'm sorry for sticking my nose in things, and being a bit, well-"

"Of a bitch?" said Becky, popping up between them both with an outrageously cheeky smile.

Anya hadn't even noticed Becky peel away from Bill, and with a flush, she realised that Becky was probably listening from afar the entire time.

To Alice's credit, she took the interruption in her stride, and didn't even flinch.

"I was going to say abrasive," Alice raised a cool eyebrow to Becky, a smirk pulling on her lips.

"Actually-" Anya jumped in. "You did me a favour! If you hadn't asked Damian out, I wouldn't have kicked my butt into gear."

All three girls shared a laugh. Anya couldn't believe how it felt like all of that was so long ago, when in actual fact her relationship with Damian was still in its early stages. They had been through so much together already…

Becky's voice pulled Anya out of her thoughts.

"So… Emile?"

"Um, yeah," Alice tried to hide her smile with her glass, only to blush even harder. "Well, the thing is, I expected that Desmond would turn me down, but I didn't think I would feel so… cut up about it. Elman saw me crying in the courtyard, and he gave me some chocolate, and well, he made me feel better, so I thought, what the hell, I could invite him as my date, and, well, he's really not… such a bad guy…" Alice finished awkwardly and she lifted her glass to her lips.

Anya flashed a knowing smile. "He never was."

For as long as Anya had known Alice, she was never really one to blush, or pursue romance. Alice was one of the more serious students, befitting her status as a firstborn heiress, but in contrast to Becky (who loved to socialise with everyone), Alice preferred to keep to herself, and only socialised with a selective number of people.

Which now included Charlotte… and Emile, of all people.

Anya winked at Alice. "Well, I hope you both have a fun night! I'm rooting for you!"

For a moment, it looked like Alice was going to respond, but a large shadow loomed over all three of them, and Anya looked up into the gentle face of Bill Watkins. He was so tall that his silhouette very nearly overshadowed Emile and Damian who stood a short distance behind him, but he was all too aware of his stature, and Anya could tell that he was trying hard not to impose.

"Sorry to interrupt, but the Imperial Scholar's have to make their way to the Ballroom now."

"Okay!" said Becky. "Well, we'll see you guys later then."

As one, all the teens turned to stare at her, and Becky visibly prickled under the strange attention.

"What?"

Damian stepped forward. "Blackbell," he said, pointedly. "You're an Imperial Scholar."

"Oh!" Becky gasped, and then flashed a guilty look towards Anya. "Sorry - I - completely forgot -"

Anya didn't reply, because it felt exactly like she had just been punched in the gut. How could you forget? She wanted to say, along with some other choice words that she purposely ignored in her own mind. The jealousy wriggled inside her, wanting to be let out, but Anya kept it in check, holding back all of her pain so that it didn't show on her face.

"We're to welcome everyone into the Ballroom after they finish their digestifs," Bill explained, not just to Becky but to Emile and Anya too. None of them had ever attended the Imperial Ball before, so of course they wouldn'know.

"Oh," said Anya. "Well, then, um, good luck! And we'll see you inside!"

Bill nodded, and extended his hand to Becky, and she gave a last apologetic glance before turning away.

"That's my cue, too," said Damain quietly. He looked like he wanted to say something else to her as well, but with Alice standing nearby (not sure where to look), he seemed to think better of it.

Instead, he reached out and stroked her arm, a small touch, but one that made her heart skip a beat all the same.

His hand was so warm on her skin, so smooth. Did he even notice that he was touching her scars? Or that she had covered them up with makeup?

It was such a relief for Anya to be able to cover them up, and she couldn't thank Becky enough for helping her with that. After the lab, Anya had wondered how people would react to such distinctive markings on her skin - and after seeing Becky's reaction, she knew she was right to be afraid. But Damian had never made her feel like she was strange, or that they were ugly, or too weird to look at. Anya recalled when Damian had once delicately traced over her scars with his fingers, calming her enough so that she could fall into sleep, on the night that she had crawled into his room rain-soaked and in tears.

"I'll see you inside, yeah?"

"Of course," Anya said breathily, not quite understanding why she had suddenly become so flustered. "Have fun!"

Damian's eyes crinkled in a small smile as he turned away, taking her heart with her, and indicated to Alice. "Shall we go?"

As Anya watched them both walk away, she couldn't help but notice the emptiness that crept up inside her, feeling so inexplicably heavy somehow. She couldn't deny that Alice and Damian would have looked good together - both trained members of the elite from birth, both classy and elegant and clearly made for this world, while Anya always stood out no matter how hard she tried, and not in a good way. She was the weed in a rosebush, climbing the branches around her, desperate to reach the light, but unable to do so by herself.

The knowledge that she didn't belong gnawed inside her, and not for the first time, Anya wondered what Eden College would be like without her, if she was never adopted by Twilight to infiltrate the upper ranks, and wondered if, with all her secrets, she would ever be good enough for Damian.

In an alternate universe, or another timeline, he could have returned Alice's confession. They would have been a good couple, and - Anya thought darkly - at least Alice wouldn't betray him the way she betrayed him every day. At least Alice wouldn't have such huge secrets to hide.

A hand waved in her periphery, jolting her out of her thoughts, and Anya turned to see Emile giving Alice a last-minute wave as she followed the other Imperial Scholars to the Ballroom.

Anya softened. She couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to either Ewen or Emile alone, and it was certainly a surprise to see him that evening. She didn't even notice. More than that, it was a surprise to see him with Alice. Cool-headed Alice, so slim and sharp, while Emile was softness personified. Ordinarily, she never would have put them together, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if Emile's gentle nature would be good for someone like Alice, and if her measured approach would keep Emile's free spirit more grounded.

Perhaps in that alternate universe, Emile would have found someone else - but in this universe, she was lucky enough to be with Damian. She was able to return his love, and share his desire for a future together. Maybe, someday, that could be enough.

Someday - when she didn't have to worry about his father.

"So…" Anya began awkwardly. "Alice?"

She didn't need to say anything else, because as soon as Alice's name left her lips, Emile immediately straightened and blushed.

"Well, erm-" He rubbed the back of his neck, which was also flaming red. "She's actually really nice…"

Anya smiled and sipped her drink again, her mind drifting once again to Damian. He had told her about how much he hated the Imperial Ball over the years, how forgettable he felt, especially without having his parents there, but with so many of his friends there tonight, he seemed more in his element than she had ever seen him.

"What are you sighing about?" Emile raised his eyebrow.

"I was just thinking… It's sad to think that Damian hated every Ball he went to," she gazed after him wistfully. "I can't help but wish he had invited me years ago."

"We kept telling him to ask you, but you know Bossman," Emile shrugged.

Anya huffed. She did know him - she liked to think that she knew him better than anyone else, and if there was one thing about her Damian that she had learned, it was that he stubbornly refused to pursue the things he really wanted. The only thing he ever reached for - the only thing he was ever allowed to reach for - was the Imperial Scholarship, and for his parents' approval.

Damian wasn't allowed to have desires. He wasn't allowed to be his own person…

"I'm really glad Alice invited you too," Anya started. "Damian will definitely have more fun if you're here! I mean of course he gets on with Becky and Bill too, but you know, it's not the same…"

Emile shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a warmth in his eyes that showed Anya that he was touched by her words.

But still. It was hard to think about just how much of a hold his parents had on him for a long time.

She swallowed, and lowered her voice, knowing that what she really wanted to say was off-limits to speak about around Damian. "Don't you think it's sad that his parents aren't here?"

In a flash, Emile's eyes grew cold and hard, and Anya caught her breath. She had never seen that look on Emile's face before. He was normally so jovial, so supportive around them, that she had never - not once - seen him even slightly irritated at something that wasn't an unsatisfactory meal. (And even, Emile was quite forgiving of chefs who tried their best).

Emile's face hardened even more, and Anya held her breath, desperately wondering what had happened to make him feel such resentment. It didn't suit him.

"It's better this way," Emile seethed. "Trust me."

Distantly, Anya knew that staring at someone open-mouthed was quite rude, but she couldn't erase the shock from her face.

"I know they're not speaking… but… I don't know. He's always wanted them to be proud of him, right? So wouldn't he want them here?"

Emile shook his head firmly.

"Not anymore."

Anya tried to cast her mind back, wondering when Damian could have decided so resolutely that he didn't want to see his parents at all. He had barely thought of them all year, perhaps even longer than that.

She didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand, even Damian was well aware of how both his mother and father seemed to have control over giving him hope, before being able to crush it mercilessly soon afterwards. At the same time, they were still his parents, and Anya knew more than most just how much hope one could hold in their own parents. Until recently, her happiness was almost entirely in their hands - but Damian hadn't escaped that yet. They held not just his happiness, but almost his entire fate.

Maybe Emile would know something that she didn't. Cold liquid seeped through her bones, and Anya sensed that something had happened, completely outside of her awareness. What was she missing? What was it that she had failed to notice?

"Since when? What makes you say that?"

Emile's jaw tensed, and he looked away quickly, but not before Anya saw the worry on his face.

"Emile," Anya said carefully, trying to get his attention once again. "Since when?"

Emile tried to squirm his way out from beneath her penetrating stare, but Anya was relentless. She held her gaze on him, refusing to even blink until he gave her an answer.

Until something… Flickered… and she gasped quietly.

A… feeling? A vision?

Anya focused on the feeling of her breath, trying to concentrate on her body, trying to invite the feeling back. It was only a glimpse, but there was a visceral ache, a sting that was the edge of an abyss full of nothing but pain.

An image flickered into her vision.

A crowd, hands clapping, the motion of a boy walking across the stage of the Eden College assembly.

She had seen that image before: she was there the day it happened.

"The Imperial Scholar ceremony," she whispered, and Emile jolted.

She didn't quite mean to say it out loud, but with him under her stare, Anya knew that she was right. Something happened on that day.

"But that was years ago!" she continued, disbelieving of herself. "Why didn't I notice…?"

"Just forget it, Anya, it's nothing-"

"Emile, tell me what happened." She softened. "Please."

The moment held, and in the space of one breath, Emile realised that he had lost. He lowered his voice, conscious of any potential eavesdroppers nearby.

"You don't know how hard he worked for his last Stella," Emile began.

Anya bit her lip. She did know. She had seen the dark circles under his eyes. She saw the flashes of the nightmares that plagued him from the night before. She saw the way his cheeks started to hollow out over the course of the four months leading up to their exams.

But of course, Emile wouldn't know how she knew this, so she kept quiet, and let him continue.

"He stayed up all night for weeks. He stayed in the library until closing time every day. He wouldn't go to sleep - he wouldn't even eat unless Ewen or I forced him to. And he was so tired, so out of it that he didn't know what he was saying half the time, but I swear if I hear how much he wants them to notice him one more time - or acknowledge him at all - I'll hunt down his father myself and - and shove his face into a fucking wall."

Anya couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had no idea that Emile could hold a grudge so strong. He was normally so caring, so gentle, but Anya had underestimated his protective instincts when it came to his brothers.

"And then…" Emile clenched his fists. "He got his eighth Stella, the last one he needed to become an Imperial Scholar and finally earn his father's respect, and he was over the fucking moon."

"I remember," Anya smiled fondly, though there was no real joy behind her eyes. "He was so smug."

"That's how you know he's happy, that bastard," Emile half-laughed, but quickly lost his smile. "He really thought that would be it. That his mother and father would finally…"

Cold seeped through her as she remembered the day of the ceremony.

"But his father didn't turn up. Neither of them did."

"It gets worse," said Emile. "They showed up for Demetrius."

"Oh no," Anya paled. Poor Damian…

Emile nodded. "They just see him as the 'spare'."

He said it with such venom that he almost spat the word out onto the floor, and Anya did a double take.

"The… spare?"

"You know," Emile affirmed. "'The Heir and the Spare'."

"Oh," said Anya, and her own hands clenched into tight fists. Once Emile said it out loud, it was obvious, like it was something she should have absorbed from the elite, but the phrase spoke for itself, and Anya understood Emile's seething rage.

Damian Desmond, the second son. While Demetrius was no doubt first in the eyes of their parents, Damian didn't stand a chance to gain attention in the race, because they didn't even see him as a contender.

Second. Anya thought the word with bitterness. To the Desmond's, it might as well have been synonymous with 'dead last'.

It was so unfair. Damian deserved so much more than to feel overshadowed by his brother, overlooked by his parents, he deserved so much more than what he was given. Damian had accepted her weird powers, he loved her unconditionally, he had even somehow managed to wrap his head around her parent's roles and it still didn't affect how he felt about her. He opened his heart to her, gave nothing but kindness, but he had to fight so hard to receive any in earnest return.

Anya gritted her teeth as anger flowed through her. His parents had no idea what they had. They had no idea how lucky they were that they had someone like him to represent the family, a boy that didn't think much of himself, but had a beautiful soul.

Those bastards, Anya seethed.

"All that hard work and they still didn't recognise him."

Emile's eyes glazed over with a dull anger as he remembered it. "Boss held it together during the ceremony, but afterwards - he lost it," his breath hitched. "He absolutely lost it. It was really bad. The worst I'd ever seen him. Ewen and I…" Emile forced out a heavy breath. "We'd never seen him like that before."

Colours emerged in Anya's vision, and she pulled them closer, trying to see behind their opaque blur, trying to see the memory that emerged in Emile's mind - and what she saw made her stop breathing.

Damian. Standing in the middle of a wreck. Everything broken around him. Shattered glass glittering on the floor. Upended chairs and broken furniture. Feathers everywhere.

She recognised the room. She had been in it once before.

Anya tried to focus on her breathing, to sharpen the memory before her, even though she was terrified at what she would find.

Red. Drip drip dripping from shredded knuckles. Shining black eyes, wild as a storm. Mouth wide open in a soundless scream.

Anya pulled herself out of the memory, chilled with sweat and panting for breath.

What had she just seen?

"So, it's better that they're not here" Emile finished and with a start, Anya gulped in the air that had stilled around her, trying to use it to fortify her own strength.

"It's better that they're not here, and they can rot in hell for all I care."

Emile took a large gulp of his drink, signalling that he was preparing his next words, but Anya didn't miss the faint shake of his glass, the ripple of the liquid inside.

"Thank you for telling me," she said, and even though she tried to keep herself steady, she couldn't hide the slight tremor in her voice. "I didn't know."

There was a moment of heavy silence, before Anya gathered herself.

"Well, that settles it!" She exclaimed with such vivaciousness that Emile reeled back, eyes wide in caution from her change in energy. "We'll just have to make this the best Imperial Ball ever! And Damian will be so happy with us that he will forget about his parents not being here and he will enjoy our company instead because I am his girlfriend and you are his best friend and together Damian will have to enjoy himself with us!"

For one small moment, Emile looked at Anya like she had grown another head, before he burst into sudden laughter.

"You really are something, Forger," he shook his head with an exhausted laugh.

.

.

.

.

I am hoping the new Wednesday schedule will work for me, but in the meantime I appreciate all of your patience ? This is when I announce that I am 'lassify' on bluesky, discord, tumblr, and twitter, and if you want any updates about posting feel free to message me, or follow me on twitter!

This is just the beginning of the Imperial Ball. We still have more surprises to come and things to get through... ? Next time: The Imperial Ball (Part Two)