The music faded away as she stepped through the curtained glass double doors. The stars were out, and the birds she'd composed the evening portion of her song to were out and singing. It was a lovely night.

"You came."

His arms encircled her waist and she felt his breath at her neck. He held her from behind and she steeled herself, willing her emotions to subside and let her say what she needed without breaking.

"Will..."

"Don't. Please. Not now. For just this moment I want to pretend you want me, too."

She swallowed and closed her eyes.

"It doesn't matter what I want. You're marrying my sister. Garten will love her, but they cannot think the same way about me."

"And why not?"

He lay small kisses to her hair and she shivered.

"It's like the Duke of Wells...you might hold some regard for my appearance, but in the end everyone will talk."

"Then let them. Our visage from birth is only how others can see us, and yet you see yourself as some sort of monster. I don't. You're lovely in every way."

She felt like her heart would break. How could he express such things to her on the eve of his wedding? What sort of gentleman was he? And why did she care for him so?

"Please stop. You're making this harder."

"You don't know my choice. No one really does. I've told them they're in your family, so why is it so hard to believe it could be you?"

She pushed away from him and turned.

"Because I'm not beautiful! I am intelligent, strong, and worth so much more than a mere trifling fancy! What sort of marks do you see on my skin? What sort of whispers do you think reach these ears?"

She didn't want to cry and held her ground. He couldn't make her.

And then he did.

"Chammielle..."

He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. She shook with rage and fear and passion she didn't know she had, her fists balling and beating on his shoulders, but he held her tighter still. His lips came to the left side of her head and lay slow and soft pecks into her hair and neck about her ear.

"You're beautiful...you're beautiful...you're beautiful...you're beautiful... you're-"

"Stop!"

"You're beautiful...you're beautiful...you're beautiful...you're beautiful..."

"Please... stop..."

"You're beautiful...you're beautiful...you're beautiful..."

He went on and on. A whisper and a kiss. A whisper and a kiss. Her tears flowed freely and her fists went limp then clung to him. All the anger she felt towards cruel people, stupid gossips, and the loveless marriage she knew she'd wind up in some day, it all came out. And she wept.

"Chammielle...don't cry. I'm here."

"Will..."

"Tomorrow everything will be set right. You can hold your head high. No one will be able to say those things to you again. Please don't say you're not beautiful again. Not ever."

She buried her face in his waistcoat.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to Aster. She was so close to the Prince and she would only know him after tomorrow. Chammielle had stolen his time. Stolen her sister's time with her husband before they could marry.

But she'd needed him.

She didn't know how much until now. His words, his attention to her, his strong arms. He was exactly what she'd needed.

Something to give her hope that she could have something like this again.

"Thank you. Thank you for noticing me, Will."

Her tears slowed to a stop and he stepped back from her. His knuckle coming under her chin to tip her head up.

"Will you dance with me?"

She shook her head.

"I don't want to dance again tonight."

"Then I won't dance with anyone else."

She closed her eyes. He was making promises with his words he could not keep.

"No...dance with Ianthe. At least all my sisters should have a chance."

"She seemed otherwise engaged, but I'll give her my congratulations."

His face drew near and she held her breath.

Slowly, his lips descended and met with her cheek just beside her lips. His freshly shaven face tickled the corner of her mouth and she sighed. Then a gloved finger rested atop her lips and she opened her eyes.

He kissed his finger between them. A barrier between them she both wished was not there and was glad for. If he'd actually kissed her, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to let him go.

"Go rest then."

He spoke over her mouth and she caught the scent of his breath: rosewater and basil.

"Don't tire yourself out any longer. Go and rest. I will see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

He stepped back and sank into the shadow by the railing. He would remain while she reentered the ballroom. It would give her time to leave and he could join the festivities after. This was a secret meeting after all. A prelude to the friendship that would grow between them once Aster was on the throne. And she would be forever grateful she got this chance to tell him goodbye.

The music was alive once more, and it was like she'd never left.

Sir Rosenblum waved to her and she smiled as if nothing was wrong. Things were exactly as they needed to be. And she was content with that.

...

"Will?"

"How did you know I was out here, Tulip?"

She skipped over to him and had a playful smile on her face. Her hands were full of baked sweets and she handed him one.

"I guessed you'd be out here kissing Chammielle."

He'd taken a bite but then choked on it.

"You little hooligan. Who taught you such things?"

"You're gonna marry her, aren't you?"

He sighed at that. He wanted to. And she hadn't exactly said she didn't want to marry him. She was his choice, a thousand times over, but would he be hers?

"I think I will. So long as she doesn't tell me no tomorrow. Then I suppose I'll marry someone else. Aster would have been the best candidate, but I cannot be with her...she's not Chammielle."

His smallest sister giggled and it was that laugh she had whenever they played a game and she had a secret. She was terrible at cards.

"Tulip...what is it?"

"You're the Prince, but you'd marry someone else just because you think she wouldn't want you? She won't tell you no."

He knelt down then, desperate to find out what information she had.

"What do you mean, Tuly?"

Her grin spread so vastly her whole face was one large smile overcoming her chubby cheeks.

"She promised me she'd marry you. If you asked her she said she'd marry you. I made her promise last night."

Hope soared in his chest and he hugged her so that her pastries went spilling out of her arms.

"Hey!"

"That beautiful, infuriating woman! Tulip, I'm buying you a new pony."

"Good. I want a gray one. With spots."

"You'll have three! The smallest I can find and they'll pull your personal carriage anywhere you want to go! You lovely girl!"

He kissed her on the top of her head and nearly dashed back inside.

"She didn't tell you she likes you, did she?"

"No she didn't, but you just did."

"Well...she made me promise not to...but I guess if I get three ponies and a carriage it was worth it."

He laughed and hugged her so that he could spin her through the air. The baked goods were all crushed beneath his feet as he danced over them.

"Will, you're squishing me."

He chuckled and set her down.

"Sorry. I'm just ever so happy. I'll get you some more of those goodies-"

Screams came from inside and his heart fell.

"Chammielle."

...

She was making her way to Sir Rosenblum when Lady Aconia intercepted her.

"Just what do you think you were doing?"

She felt like a mess but remembered herself. Ammorettallia was a nuisance but it would be rude not to speak with her at all. Her mind conjured up an image of Belladonna speaking with the Prince.

"Oh who knows what goes on in my mind. Frankly I don't remember."

Ammorettallia looked confused.

"What do you mean you don't remember what you were doing?"

She tilted her head from side to side and shrugged her shoulders, slowly walking past her.

"Oh, no, I don't remember what I was thinking. What I was thinking I was doing and what I was actually doing are two very different things. But the thoughts didn't quite align with the actions, so perhaps I don't remember after all."

And just like that she was past her and she could not believe that had worked.

"Sly little fox, aren't you. That was quite comical."

She frowned slightly. Allowing the contempt she felt for her childhood bully to show on her face in reference to his earlier false attempt to kiss her on the dance floor.

"So glad you were amused. It's just a little thing I picked up from my maid."

"Mind if I borrow it? There are a few distasteful gentlemen I'd love to sidestep with something that leaves them looking as miffed as she does."

"More distasteful than you?"

He chuckled and she guessed she'd never offend him. Then again, she didn't dare try.

"Why are you really here, Bram?"

He handed her a cup of punch and she held it without drinking, feeling quite full of liquids.

"The Duchess of Columbine got me in. I'm here to be your personal aide in the future. My dealings are all secret, but I still wasn't on the original guest list for this sort of private swaree."

She paused at his words.

"Then...you're not the one who sent me these...then who?"

Her fingers played with the jewel at her chest and she saw him staring at her actions.

"Believe me, I would love to be the one sending you secret gifts to annoy you in the hopes of winning your hand. But your hand is quite spoken for."

Her head jerked up at that.

"By who?"

"CHAMMIELLE!"

Lord Godfrey's large arm came around her and she felt something tear through her dress. She was pinned to the marble floors, his body over hers. The room was in an uproar, and women were screaming. Her sisters were screaming.

"Let me up!"

"Are you hurt?!"

"NO! LET ME UP!"

She got to her feet and finally saw the chaos around them. People were running everywhere, huddling in corners. Some of the suitors were protecting the Ladies Phlox and Lady Clarendine with their bodies. The royal guard filed into the room and seized the culprit. But what had happened?

And then she saw them.

Ianthe, Chryssia, and Aster.

Blood everywhere.

The sobbing and shrieks.

She no longer felt her own body.

"No...no...NO!!"

She ran to the huddle of bodies.

"Chammielle..."

Ianthe held a hand over her mouth. Tears streaming from her eyes. Chryssia was unconscious and being carried away by Sir Rose. It was Aster.

"No! She can't be dead!"

"She's not dead. Move aside."

Xavier guided her away from Aster's limp form. She heard him mumbling it to himself over and over.

She's not dead.

She's not dead.

She's not dead.

It did little to give her hope.

She stared, pulling at the hands that were holding her back. The blood dripped from her dear Aster's face, and her dress was half stained with it. Blood continued to run from her side, though Lord Applebalm held the wound.

"She can't be dead..."

Maestro could be heard behind her but she couldn't decipher what he was saying. Guards and palace doctors came with a large blanket to carry her away. Xavier remained at her side and shouted orders she didn't understand.

Ianthe looked lost and she grabbed onto her. Holding her tightly.

"She was just laughing with me. ...Teasing that I'd found a love worthy of my passion for gothic novels."

"Ianthe...what happened to Chryssia?"

"She was so lively...and then there was blood."

"Why was Chryssia not awake when I arrived?"

Her violet eyes looked distant, and something inside of Chammielle snapped with an audible sound. Like a tree branch cracking in the silence. She shook her sister once to urge her to answer.

"She fainted. She screamed and then she fainted. Her knight carried her off to be checked on. But Aster..."

The blood was seeping into the seams of the marble floors you wouldn't have known were there otherwise. Her body was being carried away. No one had announced her death. It was possible she was still alive.

For now.

Who had done this?

She looked into the pale pink eyes of the Duke of Wells, his white hand had not left Ianthe's shoulder.

"Did you see anyone?"

"A man...he ran into the hall. A guard cut him down, but I think he is alive."

She pulled the two together and wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders.

"Keep her safe."

He nodded, his mouth in a firm line and his hands gripping her to hold her up.

She turned and saw Bram speaking to Sir Rosenblum, a hand gripping his collar like he was threatening him. She marched up to them and pushed the two men apart.

"Follow me."

William burst through the crowd and called her name, but she couldn't look at him. Not now. She had an assassin to take care of. The Crown Prince of Garten could wait.

"Maestro!"

He was at her side in an instant and the four of them strode quickly to the main entrance, in the direction the assailant had gone.

"Lady Kuchen, need I remind you this is a situation meant for the royal guards?"

"Damn the guards. If they'd done their jobs my sister would not be losing her life blood this instant. We have work to do."

She would not look at their reactions. She would not argue with them. They had signed on to helping her, and Alfrina had set two of them to be her personal attendants for just this sort of reason, and the third had pledged his life to prevent these things. Perhaps none of them had believed this could happen so soon. She hadn't. But it had. And they were going to have a name.

Maestro directed them down a series of halls until they came to a small door that lead to a stony interior. It was a tunnel. They passed through it until she could hear shouting coming from the other end.

"WHO HIRED YOU!"

She entered the room and found it torchlit. A guard was striking the prisoner across the face with the back of his hand. Small drops of blood sprayed to the side onto the floor. She stepped into the light with her entourage. Bram closed the door behind them.

"Lady Kuchen! You cannot be here..."

"Silence. I will speak with the assassin myself."

"We cannot let-"

The guard came forward and she moved.

His sword was out of its sheath and in her hand, raised to point directly at his nose and drew just the tiniest sliver of blood.

"I will have my sister's murderer. Stop me at your own peril."

The idiot backed down and she lowered the sword to be level with their chests. Bram and Augustus stepped forward and blocked the men, swords in both of their hands. Maestro put a hand to her shoulder.

"My lady, ask your questions. But avert your eyes when he fails to speak. A grown man's screams will be haunting enough."

"I am haunted already. Never you mind what I will or won't see. Do whatever it takes."

He made an excited chirp and headed to the man tied to the chair. The well dressed assassin looked like any other party goer. In fact, he looked like part of the staff.

"What is your name?"

He sneered, a quiver in his jaw. Most likely from being hit upside the head. It was the least painful thing he'd suffer tonight.

"John."

"John what?"

"Ashpole. I go by that sometimes."

"You work for Lady Ammorettallia Aconia."

He laughed and it was cut off by a shriek as Maestro broke his thumb.

"Oopsie...can't be about to lie to my lady. No you cannot."

"Yes!"

"Yes you were hired by her? Be specific."

"Yes! She hired me! I work for her!"

"How long have you worked for her?"

He was catching his breath and she raised her sword below his chin. He grit his teeth and swallowed. Fear beginning to form in his eyes as he began to truly understand his situation.

"Tell me."

"Two years...she...she brought me on a while back...I'd never killed anyone before..."

"Liar."

His screams echoed across the stone walls and not a shadow of emotion crossed her face. She couldn't feel anything. Her sister was dead. Her best friend was dead.

"I swear! She only assumed I'd killed before!"

"Why? And why Aster?"

He was sobbing and trying to speak. Maestro looked like he was itching to break another bone. And she couldn't find it in her to tell him to stop.

"It...it wasn't supposed...to be her...you were her target...the crossbow...it malfunctioned...she told me to kill you...but I couldn't. ...Killing a Noble...it means death for me...*hic*...I have a family-"

She lunged forward and stuck him in the shoulder. The blade went to the bone and his screams pierced the air. Her voice lowered and she punctuated the air with a hushed tone that he held his breath to hear.

"I have a family. And you took one of them from me. You're already dead. Tell them everything, swear upon it, and maybe your family will live. Better yet, maybe they will never hear of why you disappeared. A mercy to their memory of you. If you choose it."

"I am! I will! I swear!"

She almost could have believed Maestro was whispering into his ear threats or poking him with other devious instruments to get him to talk. He'd only broken two fingers. He was answering to her.

Deep fear in his face mingled with his agony. The loss she had suffered finally touching her throat as she spoke the next words.

"You should have killed me."

She took a step back and took a breath, addressing the royal guard who had captured him in the first place.

"You've heard it from him yourselves. I shall lend you Sir Rochester for the time being, but do not speak of his presence here. Get everything you need. I have what I came for. Report it. Exactly as it was said."

She headed back towards the tunnel and Sir Rosenblum opened the door for her.

They moved, slower through the tunnel. And then the events began to catch up with her. It was as if the slower she moved, the slower they came to her. She stepped quietly, then timidly, then inching, and then stopped.

"I...I don't...I don't want this to be real..."

Bram was at her side, a hand on her shoulder.

"Chammielle, have a drink. It will help."

A flask was before her and she took it. It didn't matter that Lord Godfrey had given it to her. She'd take anything at this point.

"Tastes funny..."

The dark tunnel seemed pitch black. And then her knees regained their weight.

"...Oh."

Strong arms caught her. And then they seemed just like the dark. The sword clattered to the ground and she didn't remember still having it.

Then she didn't remember having it at all.