When we arrived, King Chaune himself greeted us with a slight nod and showed us to the ballroom. The floors were made of pure sapphire and the walls and columns were of white marble with golden streaks and markings. Angelic women in large ballgowns of bright colors twirled and whirled across the floor in a waltz-like dance with intricate arm movements that reminded me of the movements required for element wielding. Their faces shone with joy as they danced with their significant other. The men wore colorful suits and tuxedoes designed to match their dance partner’s gown.

I folded my hands in my lap as I stood, scanning the crowd for Prince Sapphire. “I’m not a very good dancer, I’m afraid,” I admitted. Dance classes were the one part of princess training I never paid that much attention to. I always thought it was useless for people who didn’t have an interest and it wasn’t until now I realized its purpose. I should have thought of it as, “How Not to be Embarrassed at Formals in Front of Your Crush Class.”

“Don’t worry, most guys don’t care for dancing either,” Swarovsky said. “It’s more of a formality.” He winked.

“Princess Selena!” Sapphire rushed up to us and bowed. “You’re even more beautiful in person than your picture.” He took my hand and kissed it. “You look absolutely ethereal as ever. Roses pail in comparison to the beauty in front of me that glows as surely as the sun..”

Swarovsky cleared his throat loudly.

“Forgive me, Your Royal Highness,” Sapphire bowed again with an apologetic glance. “Your daughter is beautiful and I promise to treat her with the utmost love and respect. I have never seen a woman so beautiful in my life.”

“She is seventeen,” Swarovsky corrected.

“Yes, and I am eighteen,” Sapphire smiled. “Just one year apart.”

“Make sure you two stay where I can see you,” Swarovsky glared at Sapphire and crossed his arms. “Don’t go out in the garden or to some secret hallway thinking it’s romantic.”

“Yes, Prince Swarovsky,” I answered.

Sapphire nodded and led me out onto the center of the dance floor, taking my waist. “I feel like the luckiest man alive,” he remarked.

“You’re very handsome too,” I said, feeling like I should compliment him back. “I have to warn you, I’m not very good at dancing, so I’m sorry in advance if I step on your feet.”

Sapphire stared into my eyes with a distant daydream-like look. “Do you really think I’m handsome?” he said. “Would you say I was the handsomest person you’ve ever seen?”

“Yes, well almost,” I answered. “I always thought the archangel was very lovely to look at, but he practically raised me.”

Sapphire laughed. “You glide on the dancefloor very well for someone who is not good at dancing. Were you just being modest?”

“No,” I answered in confusion. “You’re somehow making adjustments for all my wrong steps.”

“I let you lead,” Sapphire grinned, pulling me closer to himself. “Now it’s my turn.” He must have read the nervousness on my face because he began to count out loud to help me keep rhythm. “One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two…see you glide like a swan…OUCH!”

“Sorry!” I cried, after stepping on his foot. I felt my face blushing down to my neck.

Sapphire laughed. “You look so cute when you’re sorry. Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you like to do for fun?” I asked him.

“I like to dance with a pretty girl like you,” he said. “I also sing.”

I let out a slight laugh. “Don’t all angels sing?”

“No,” he replied. “Singing is a rare talent, that, when given to an angel, is very extraordinary. Only angels from Cerulea, Earth’s heaven, are guaranteed a good singing voice. And even then, Cerulean angels usually don’t have as impressive a vocal range as singing angels who come from heavens where the gift of song is rare.”

“Oh,” I answered. “I didn’t know that.”

“Which tells me you must be a fantastic singer, coming from Solaria,” he said. “Your voice is already lovely as you speak.”

“Come to think of it, my brother and my birth parental, Prince Lucifer and Prince Swarovsky, don’t seem to sing,” I said. “At least I’ve never heard them sing.”

“You should come here and perform a solo for me one day,” he suggested.

I laughed with embarrassment at being put on the spot. “To be honest, I’m not really used to singing in front of anyone yet.”

“The best way to get used to it is to start,” Sapphire pressed.

There was a loud crash and I turned, startled to see a broken glass of apple juice on the floor. An angel with bright, glowing emerald hair appeared to have been holding the glass, or, at least it shattered at his feet. He had eyes of deep forest green except that they turned lemon yellow in the places that were full of highlights. He was glaring directly at me with a suspicious look that made me wonder if he had me mistaken for someone else.

“You!” he said. “I can’t believe they invited you here!”

“Zomerald, get a hold of yourself,” King Chaune chided him. “Princess Selena has nothing to do with what happened between Lucifer and your daughter, Beryl.”

“Has nothing to do my foot!” Zomerald yelled. “Her brother is a terrible influence who ruined my daughter’s life and broke your oldest daughter, Raven’s, heart. Not to mention that Selena has everything to gain since she’s obviously Beryl’s replacement!”

“Enough, Zomerald!” King Chaune rebuked. “Keep in mind that certain things are not to be spoken of in the presence of the younger generation,” he added through gritted teeth.

“Speaking of that,” Zomerald continued. “Slowly but surely, the libraries that held secrets restricted to the guardians or first-generation angels only have been breached with some sort of telepathic power. Telepathy, as you should know, is a filthily invasive ability that is exclusive to Swarovsky’s family line. So, it’s likely that Princess Selena knows exactly what she stands to gain by Beryl’s fall.”

“What?!” I said. “That’s preposterous. I would never want anyone to fall. And I never went into any of the restricted access libraries." Zomerald still looked skeptical. "I promise you, I’m telling the truth!” I added.

“What truth, you snake?” Beryl’s seething voice echoed out from the entrance of the ballroom. I turned to look at her and felt a cold, sick feeling wash over me as I took in her appearance in horror.

Beryl did nothing to try to tend to her hair or mend it after I had redirected her fire magic toward her earlier that day. In fact, she looked worse than before, with bald patches and more ashen areas not only on her scalp but spread out over the side of her face, chest, and arms.

“Selena attacked me this morning,” she complained. “I just wanted to give my husband flowers and wish him to get well soon, but she threatened me about taking my kingdom and,” Beryl became tearful, “replacing me as the angel of Azuria.”

“That’s not even true!” I exclaimed.

“Of course you would say that,” Zomerald argued. “I don’t know what happened with Swarovsky, but your whole family is cursed with sin. My daughter was meant to marry the archangel himself, but she ended up with your brother, Lucifer the so-called bearer of light, instead.”

I looked around bewildered. People were staring at me and it was overwhelming because I didn't even understand what I was being accused of, aside from Beryl's injuried. Even more confusing was the strange word that Zomerald had used. "What does sin mean?"

“That’s enough!” Swarovsky said with firmness. “Prince Zomerald, I’m sorry that your daughter is going astray, but this has nothing to do with Selena. If you would just let me explain, I could easily tell you how Beryl injured herself while trying to hurt my daughter.”

“Any explanation from you would be infected with lies like your two children,” Zomerald said in a vicious tone. “Besides, obviously Selena was the attacker," he pointed at me. "She looks unscathed.”

“Stop it!” the archangel’s voice rang out. He appeared from the back end of the ballroom, making his way towards Zomerald. Angels standing in the way on the ballroom floor parted to make a path for him.

“Archangel Michael!” Zomerald shouted, startled. He bowed. “Please forgive me for causing a commotion in your presence, I had no idea…”

The archangel lifted a hand and continued, “For as long as I have helped Swarovsky raise Selena, she has never lied to me and she has painstakingly done everything she can to make sure she is doing what is pleasing to God and that she is adhering to the ethical principles of love and truth that should bind every angel’s behavior. If you do not believe me, we can have a trial tomorrow. But I strongly suggest that you not to interrupt this event again.”

Zomerald bowed again, “No, Your Majesty,” the words rushed from his mouth as he placed a fist on his chest. “That will not be necessary. I believe you with all my heart.”

I sighed in relief, but then, stiffened again as a bigger conflict formed in my soul: How was the archangel so sure I never lied to him and of my motives? Was he telepathic too? And why did Zomerald address him with the honorific reserved for kings and queens?