“I’m not ready,” Liliana said, feeling her heartbeat race as she stared at Astrid. Liliana’s eyes were blown wide, panic clear across her features.

She was dressed in her gown, the deep blue stood out beautifully against her tanned skin. Lighter blue fabric was gathered around her chest and arms, almost like a sash. In the same color was lace patterned with lilies, standing out gorgeously against the darker backdrop of the dress. Her heavy hair was gathered in a complicated updo pinned through with lily ornaments featuring sapphires. On her chest rested her summoning stone, Lelantos safely tucked inside. She wouldn’t be able to summon him once they got to the ball. She’d been told there were wards in place for such things. They blocked access to spatial items and things like summoning stones for anyone not authorized for it. They also blocked spell and skill usage, further reducing threats.

Liliana assumed someone had to of caused the rule to exist. Logically, it would be because of an assassination attempt on a monarch at some point. More than likely, some noble had a few too many drinks and tried to duel someone at a ball.

Liliana turned, staring at herself in the mirror, admiring the way the dress hugged her waist before flaring a bit. It was far less ostentatious than her stepmother’s gowns, far less restricting, too. The corset she wore under it wasn’t even tied tightly, just enough to smooth the lines. She had been afraid that Alfred would deliver some tulle and velvet monstrosity for her to drown in, instead she got a gown that wouldn't look too out of place on Earth.

Would I have had a dress like this for prom? Liliana wondered idly, ignoring the spike of pain the thought gave her.

She knew that the fashion of the Cista country favored gowns like this; the trend set by the Queen and Princess. Since the Princess hadn’t been able to wear corsets for a long time, the Queen had forsaken them in solidarity for her daughter, and had set a new trend among the nobles. Liliana had to say, even if the origins of the style were grim, the result was quite favorable.

“You’ll be the talk of the ball, my Lady,” Astrid commented from her side, the woman’s eyes bright with unshed tears. Liliana felt her own heart pang. The pride in Astrid’s eyes made her want to cry.

“No, I’m sure everyone will be talking about the Princess,” Liliana answered, rather hopefully. She did not want attention. If she could find a nice, quiet corner to hide in, she’d count it a win. She couldn’t imagine trying to navigate the treacherous waters of noble society.

“That is true, but I doubt you’ll find yourself bereft of attention,” Astrid informed her, and Liliana frowned. Many would say that being beautiful was a boon all its own. She wouldn’t know. She couldn’t say her life had been any easier because of her appearance. Now it would garner more attention she’d rather avoid.

It’s a chance to make allies, allies not tied to the heroes, Liliana reminded herself as her fingers danced down the front of her gown, tracing the lace patterns. Her arms were clothed in dark blue gloves, matching her dress. Still, despite the layers of clothing she was wearing, she felt naked. She had no armor on. The dress wouldn’t stop a toddler with a sharp butter knife.

Her fingers trailed lower, dipping into the folds of her dress and brushing against the daggers tied to her thighs, hidden by the skirt of her dress. The only weapons she’d realistically have access to while in the ball. Well, that and the pins holding her hair up. Astrid had told her they were rather sharp and sturdy. It wouldn’t be her naginata, but it may be enough to defend herself long enough to run off if she was attacked.

Perhaps it was her suspicious nature talking. Astrid had told her she hadn’t heard of anyone being attacked at a ball in years. But Liliana wouldn’t say she had the best luck, and she wouldn’t place a bet on her likelihood of getting out of the ball without something happening.

“It’s time to go, my Lady,” Astrid informed her and she placed the cloak on Liliana’s shoulders. It was a light thing, the weather warm even this far north. The cloak was as much a work of art as her dress, a light blue matching her lace fading to the same dark blue as her dress. It flowed down her body like a fabric waterfall.

“Let’s go,” Liliana said, taking a deep, fortifying breath she led the way out of her rooms. Walking down the halls felt like a march to her own execution. What if she made a fool of herself at the ball? What if her stepmother pulled something?

She made it to the entrance hall, every step feeling like it took years. A relieved breath left her mouth when she saw she was the first of her family to arrive.

“The color suits you,” a voice called out, and Liliana nearly leaped into the air as she whirled to face Emyr. He was dressed far more elaborately than she normally saw, even if the suit was shades of black, embellished with teal and silver ornaments. Liliana looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, surprised he had submitted to being dressed up, though she could not say he looked bad. As with any of the nobles she’d met so far, few may they be, beauty seemed a standard trait amongst them.

“I see you’ve chosen to wear black,” Liliana commented and Emyr looked down at his clothes before back at her.

“I like black,” he stated simply, and Liliana smirked. The minor exchange had released some of the nerves she had pent up. While at first Emyr had vexed her, and quite honestly freaked her out with the whole stalking thing. She could say now they could be called something like friends. Even if she didn’t think she trusted him, she could deny she found some enjoyment in his quiet companionship.

Eventually, he would leave or turn on her. She was sure, but for now, she allowed herself to enjoy this much.

“So you are capable of looking somewhat proper,” another familiar voice called out, and Liliana turned her head to see Alistair. Where Emyr was dressed in subtle grace, Alistair was dressed as if he expected a spotlight on him at all times. Gold and white fabric draped him, contrasting beautifully against his dark ocher skin and pairing well with the golden ornaments in his braided hair and sitting on his fingers and neck.

“I see you’ve emptied every gold mine in the province for your outfit today, brother,” Liliana returned with a small smile. They had developed an uneasy truce of sorts, and the banter they exchanged now held far less venom in it. Something to be said of bonds built in battles, Liliana supposed.

“And what a wonderful place for them to be displayed,” Alistair retorted, doing a small spin to show off the full outfit. Liliana would admit it was beautiful craftmanship. White with golden designs on the coat, dark gold with lighter gold highlights for the vest and a pure white undershirt.

“I think they may have preferred to stay in the ground,” Liliana teased, the words slipping from her mouth. Her eyes widened a little, even as Alistair responded with a raised brow. Emyr took a large step back, fading into the background and avoiding getting between the siblings.

“Careful, with a tongue like that you’ll ruin the facade you have of being a real noble girl,” Alistair warned, but his eyes held far less animosity than she remembered from even a month ago. Liliana’s shoulders relaxed. She hadn’t crossed a line and ruined the small bit of progress she’d made with him then.

“-nd I need you to double check the provisions being sent to the Athana border.” A voice preceded the arrival of the Duke and all three teens turned and either bowed or curtsied to the duke.

“Greeting, your grace,” rang out in almost perfect harmony from the three children. The Duke looked over and waved his steward off as he straightened his cuffs. His suit was a darker blue than Liliana’s, bordering on black. Silver accented it and rolling designs on the cloth looked like waves, a symbol of his preferred affinity. Many nobles of a high enough level enjoyed having their clothes designed with their preferred weapon or affinity. Liliana had forgone such things, as she had no true attachment to her affinities other than Soul, and she did not think it was a thing that would translate well to fabric.

Maybe next time I can get an image of Lelantos embroidered on a dress? Liliana wondered idly as she straightened from her curtsy.

“Good,” the Duke nodded at the three teens before he looked around, brow furrowing slightly.

“Where is Imogen?” he asked his steward, the man opening his mouth to answer right as a tittering laugh announced the woman’s arrival.

“Oh darling, you know how time can get away from me,” the Duchess entered the room and Liliana struggled to control her expression. The woman’s dress was the polar opposite of Liliana’s. Rather than a sleek elegance, her dress was loud. Both in size and color. A shifting white and gold fabric threw light off wherever it touched it, reflecting off the many gems woven into the fabric. Her corset was tied so tight Liliana was certain the Duke could fit his hands around her waist easily, and the dress must weigh half as much as the woman herself did.

As if sensing her thoughts, the Duchess’s eyes slid to Liliana, raking her up and down. The disapproval was apparent in her eyes and she opened her mouth, probably to shoot a venomous barb at Liliana.

“Now that we’re all here, we should be on our way. Mirador Palace is three hours away by carriage and I do not wish to be late,” the Duke spoke up, cutting off whatever vitriol was about to spill from the woman’s lips.

“The carriages are ready, sire,” the Steward spoke up, bowing as he opened the door. The Duke nodded and led the way out. Following in his wake was the Duchess, Alistair, then Liliana and finally Emyr tailing behind.

Liliana paused at the bottom of the stairs. Two carriages fit with the Rosengarde crest were waiting, one led by pure white horses, the other by pure black. The Duke was already in the front one; the Duchess climbing behind with a guard closing the door behind her.

Liliana followed behind Alistair silently as he opened the door to the second carriage, pausing and turning to her. She stared at him, suspicion rising until the boy held out a hand to her. Liliana looked at the hand, then at him for a moment, not comprehending the offer.

“It’s a hand, not a snake,” Alistair sighed, and Liliana’s eyes narrowed as she placed her own hand in his with more force than was necessary. In retaliation, he nearly threw her into the carriage as Alistair ‘helped’ her in. He followed her in, Emyr sliding in last and closing the door.

In moments, they were off; the carriages moving at a slow pace. Liliana, used to carriages by now, did not startle when the carriages sped up drastically as soon as they passed the gate, merely staring out the windows as the scenery blurred. Her hands played with the summoning stone on her neck, and she took comfort in the warm presence of Lelantos inside.

Liliana’s head whipped around when she heard something slam down. A small table had been pulled from the wall and Alistair was shuffling a deck of cards as he looked at Emyr with determination.

“Today, I’ll finally beat you,” he promised, and Liliana’s face twisted in confusion.

“That is unlikely,” Emyr responded evenly as he took the cards dealt to him.

“Would you wish to play?” Emyr turned to her, head tilted slightly.

“Play what, pray tell?” Liliana asked after she’d collected her thoughts.

“Tarocchi, everyone has played it,” Alistair said, tone heavily patronizing as he dealt her a hand. Liliana picked the cards up, eyes widening as she recognized the type of cards. She’d seen tarot decks in her last life, but hadn’t thought she’d see them in this life.

“It’ll be odd with three players, as it’s meant for four,” Emyr spoke up and Alistair turned to him with an aggrieved expression on his face.

“You offered to let her play,” Alistair accused, and Emyr shrugged, looking over his cards.

They took a brief amount of time to let her know the rules. She couldn’t say if they had a game like this on earth and if it differed at all from it. They were playing with more cards as well from what was typically done, as they were missing the fourth player. Liliana thought she had a grasp on it, it felt like an odd mix of go-fish and card against humanity in some ways. Whoever had the most points, dictated by the cards they had gathered from winning rounds, won the game.

Liliana mostly watched, not trying to win. Alistair slowly got more and more agitated as Emyr continued to win rounds, his pile of cards growing considerably larger than Liliana’s or Alistair’s. By the end of the first game, Emyr had won and Alistair was gathering the cards to deal again, glaring at the other noble.

“Do you understand better now?” Emyr asked, ignoring the murderous muttering of her stepbrother.

“Yes, I think I comprehend the game to some degree now,” Liliana nodded as she picked up her own cards, organizing them to make it easier for herself. Trumps went by ascending value, right to left. Suits went descending from left to right. Emyr set down his first card, a six of cups, and Liliana placed her own eight of cups down and the game began.

The hours passed quickly as the games progressed, Liliana managing to win more games than Alistair, much to his despair. Though neither came close to Emyr’s record, and Liliana was almost certain he let them win to keep their morale up.

“How? How does someone win eight times in a row? You have to be cheating,” Alistair accused as he recalled the deck into his storage ring. They’d arrived at the palace and were waiting in a line of carriages to enter. Liliana was paying more attention to her window than the boys as she tried to catch glimpses of her queendoms movers and shakers.

What women she saw mostly followed the style Liliana herself was wearing, though there were some who still held fast to the style her stepmother preferred. Liliana mentally made a note to avoid them. From the distance they were at, she couldn’t get a good look at their faces to place them with the images she’d been shown by Miss Beckett. Funny thing about magic, this world hadn’t discovered cameras yet, but it didn’t need them. Not when Illusion magic could capture an image of someone’s face in an enchanted crystal.

“Looks like Marquess Coppercolt was finally dragged out of his workshop,” Alistair remarked as he looked out the window, finally tiring of accusing Emyr of cheating.

“Runehold is here, too. I heard they were having some troubles with an incursion of Wraiths, it’s a surprise they made it,” Emyr joined in and Liliana resisted the urge to hiss like a cat as both boys leaned close to the window, unconscious or uncaring of her personal space.

“Well, their family is known for wards. Perhaps they have faith that their magic will hold their territory safe.” Alistair shrugged, and Liliana soaked in the information. She knew the names, knew their lineage as well.

Marquess Matthias Coppercolt was known to be a rather accomplished metal-crafter. His affinity, and his family’s general chosen affinity, being metal, was unsurprising given his name. Their territory was one of the biggest supplied of copper and iron ore in the kingdom, and the family itself almost rivaled some Duchy’s for money.

Baroness Blanche Runehold came from a family that specialized in enchantment and warding magic, said to have some of the strongest defenses in the southern portion of the Cista queendom. Many noble names could give someone an idea of their magic specialization, since families tended to follow after one another. Had Liliana been born normally, with a loving family, she’d likely have picked up her father’s water affinity.

Rosengarde didn’t sound like it had anything to do with water until one knew that the large river covering the portion of their border with Athana kingdom stretching up to the Frostfang mountains had been created by one of her ancestors. A woman named Rose. The river was named ‘Rosen’ after her and their family ennobled not long after, as the river creation had turned the tides of a war. Rosengarde was simply what they were originally, the guards of Rosen river. Eventually they became the guardians of a second bored, this one with Gadria Kingdom to the west. Also guarded by a river enhanced by another ancestor of hers.

Water ran through the veins of the Rosengarde family, same as Light ran through the Thornebell family, or Metal through the Coppercolts. Yet Liliana was one of the few to take a different path than the one set forth for her by her ancestors, though not of her own volition.

Liliana felt her heart pick up its pace once more as their carriage approached the point they’d need to leave it. Ahead of her, she watched her father exit his carriage and offer a hand to her stepmother. Then they were moving, Alistair not hesitating before he opened the door.

“Just imagine they’re all potatoes,” Emyr whispered to her, and Liliana was too distracted by his words to fully register that she’d taken Alistair’s hand and descended from the carriage. He released her hand as soon as her feet were firmly on the ground and she didn’t look at risk of falling on her face.

“Time to meet high society, don’t disappoint,” Alistair warned, though his words held no heat. Liliana gulped and nodded as they joined the Duke and Duchess, following them inside. Liliana’s hands gripped together tightly as she stared at the giant and ornate doors, the gateways into the high society Liliana Rosengarde been banned from for fourteen years.