The doors to the ballroom opened and Angela finally saw what the servants had done with the place. White trees had been placed on the stairs leading up to the upper gallery, the tables were covered white crystals the pictures were framed by light cloth that had it seem like the whole room had been covered in a snow storm.

Amidst the white and icy colours the guests shone like ambassadors of spring with their warm colours fighting the cold. The theme of the ending Winter was well done, her own light blue coloured dress had her feel like a fairy from one of Daphne’s tales.

Servants brought warm beverages to the guests sitting on well crafted furniture that looked like snowdrifts. In the middle of the room throned the banner of Goldhill. Her eyes wandered through the crowd already enjoying the festivities.

Dalaria was talking to Michael on top of the stairs, he dress was a bright orange that seemed to be autumn rather than spring, although the colour was not likely to be mirrored by one of the other girls putting her in the spot of wearing the colour alone rather than sharing it like most of the other girls.

Excited to see Michael she began ascending the stairs, her tail fo cloth trailing behind her raising the eyebrows of more than a couple of girls. Angela enjoyed the attention for once, her dress was marvelous it befitted her more than she wanted to admit.

The blue colour of her dress might have seemed cold but with the sleeves and the trailing fabric it seemed to mirror a clear day.

Dalaria on top of the stairs was waving goodbye and turned to see her climb the stairs, her eyes narrowed as she looked at her dress. Her frown quickly turned to a smile when she saw Angela watching her.

The two of them passed half way on the stairs, not a word was spoken between them and she kept her eyes on Michael who was wearing his light green suit, she smiled when he reached out and helped her the last few steps.

The two of them looked at each other for a while before Michael finally managed to say something.

“You, you look beautiful today Angela.” The words had barely left his lips when Angela’s cheeks began burning from all the blood rushing into her face.

The musicians down stairs began to play and Angela knew there was only one thing she wanted to do right now, reaching deep into herself she managed to get the courage to grip the boy’s hand more tightly and slowly pull him behind her for a chance to dance with her.

She was glad she couldn’t see herself as she walked down the stairs with Michael trailing behind her like the ribbon on her dress.

“W-would you like to dance?” she finally managed to say in a voice about an octave higher than it usually was.

“Yes, I would love to.” His answer had her nearly faint in relief, it seemed like the biggest hindrance was over.

He put his hands on her and as the music continued the two of them joined into the rhythmic dancers already spinning to the music. The world seemed to change, lights in the backgrounds blurred into lines as the two of them watched only each other.

Ages seemed to pass within an instance as the two of them spun ever closer together after what seemed an eternity the two of them noticed the music had stopped.

Servants hurried past them and placed tables in the space that had been the dancefloor, food followed. Torsten waved for his son to come and with a hasty bow he excused himself, Angela decided to look for something to drink.

A waiter walked her way a single mug of steaming liquid on his plate, when she asked what it was he said something about honeyed tea.

Gleefully she took the mug from his plate and took a sip, it tasted like honey and spices, not at all like tea. Slowly moving up the stairs she sipped on the beverage and looked over the people below her, the waiter was now walking to Dalaria, she slipped him a coin.

Angela nearly dropped the mug, what had she been drinking?

There was nearly nothing left and a strange warmth spread in her stomach a feeling she had never felt before.

Her worries seemed to fade as the world became softer in a way. She drank the last of the liquid and smiled gleefully, whatever it was, it wasn’t so bad.

She continued her way to the top of her stairs, something within her warned her to be careful but the voice seemed to drown out as she reached the top and spotted a nice chair.

Sitting down on it she had a good view over the upper floor of the ballroom, there were a few couples outside on one of the balconies.

“Are you alright?” A voice sounded from next to her, when she turned her head Dalaria was suddenly in her field of view. Angela nodded, she felt great.

“I hope you liked the mead I sent you?” The girl smiled at her and Angela was nodded slightly.

“I never had tea like that, what is it made of?” She said her tongue feeling strangely heavy when she talked, what was going on?

“I am glad you liked it, I was hoping for the two of us to have a talk.” She smiled at her.

Angela wondered what this was about and smiled back slightly confused, she had always expected for Dalaria to hate her because the two of them liked Michael, had she misjudged the girl all this time?

“I would love to!” Angela proclaimed getting to her feet, the world shifted beneath her feet and she nearly lost her footing.

The two of them went past the main balcony and walked out into one of the smaller ones on the side.

The cold air was a welcome change to the hot air from inside, the balcony had a low railing and Angela wondered in which generation it had been built.beneath their feet the cobblestone had been cleared of any snow and some of the guests walked through evening.

When Angela turned around Dalaria was gone, she frowned, where had the girl gone to?

“Angela? What are you doing outside?” Michael’s voice sounded from her side. She looked his way, was he ready to dance some more?

A shadow passed his face and he opened his mouth in a scream, something hit Angela in the side. She stumbled, something was soaking into her dress she reached for it.

Whatever it was it was warm.

She reached the side of the balcony and went over, Cara twisted in the air, if she wanted a way to survive this she needed to get her legs beneath her.

The cobblestones drew closer as she desperately angled her legs and rolled over her side.

The impact had the world darken around her. Her last thoughts were about Bartholomew, the idiot had hit her.