Lukas stayed in the tent-like booth for a while after Elias left. Of course he wanted to seek out Aria and resume their dance, but his mind was left too rattled by his brother’s antics to hold that kind of conversation.

Later, he promised himself. Later.

He stepped out of his booth, plucking a glass of table wine from a tray along with a small assortment of pastries, then ducked back inside the rich silk curtains into his private nook. From there he took some time to watch over the dance, absentmindedly chewing on pastries, lost in thought enough not to mind the overly sweet nature of them. He’d never much liked sweet things, after all.

Just where was Sarian? Kurtis and Leon as well, but mostly Sarian, given that this entire dance was for him. Or rather, his and Alyssia’s betrothal announcement. Surely he would be somewhere front and centre?

He spun the half-empty wine glass around slowly in his hand, sending the glossy red liquid swirling lazily, never quite reaching the lip of the glass. It took some effort, he wasn’t quite used to the repetitive motion yet, and he pursed his lips as a few drops sloshed over the edge onto the table.

He set down the glass and the half eaten pastries, got up from the table, and left the booth. He had a brother to find.

The next hour passed in a blur. He made countless attempts to pass through the seemingly infinite crowd, only to be stopped by some baron or count or other random noble for a brief chat. Each of them were overly excited, enthusiastic and friendly, in that way Lukas knew was sincere, but hiding true intentions. They weren’t happy to see him, they cared about his name. His father’s name, that is. He held himself to perfect form, imagining it was Sarian standing in his shoes, not himself, bowing and smiling and saying all of the right things at just the right volume and the right speed. It was tiring work, keeping it up for so long, especially when he had something occupying his mind. But of course, he could only rush the conversation as much as was polite, or allowed, of someone of his standing. The lower ranks, the barons and the like, he would address more curtly, a polite yet forceful way of telling them he wasn’t interested, and things were over quickly. The problem came with the higher nobles, and the higher they were, the longer it took him to get rid of them, and the more delicately he had to do so. He wouldn’t be caught dead insulting the wrong person tonight.

“Hahahaha!” A middle aged man laughed a little too loudly at a halfhearted joke Lukas had said, and the three other nobles standing in a circle with them chuckled along as well.

It… really wasn’t that funny, Lukas thought dryly, even though he’d been the one to make the joke. Humour had never exactly been his thing.

“My, you’re a true charmer, my Lord,” the man said heartily, ending his forced laugh with an equally forced smile. “So, will you consider my offer?”

“I’ll keep it in consideration, good Sir,” Lukas said with a perfect smile, having already forgotten whatever the man had offered in the first place.

“Excellent. To the good health of our young Lord, and may his family live long and hearty!” The man, a bit flush from his wine, raised his glass in a toast. Lukas raised his own table wine, clinking glasses with the group of nobles, before all took a drink together. With that, Lukas bid them farewell, and they departed, leaving him standing alone.

“I’ve always thought it a peculiar tradition, the toast,” a young girl’s voice said from behind him, and Lukas smiled.

“Which part, the honeyed words or the clinking of the glasses?” Lukas asked, turning around to find the angelic face of Aria Krystia standing patiently behind him.

“The glasses. Why touch them together so?” Aria said, looking down at her own glass of a nearly clear drink.

“It’s a sign of trust, amongst nobility,” Lukas said back. “When you bring the glasses together, like so,” he punctuated this by bringing his glass to lightly touch the rim of hers. “Drops of your drinks fly into the air, and into each other’s glass.”

“Seems rather vulgar, does it not?” Aria asked, watching as, sure enough, a few drops of their drinks splashed into each other’s drinks.

“Indeed. Yet, if one were to poison another’s drink… there’d be no way to ensure that poison does not come back to bite them, as well.”

Then Lukas took a sip from his glass with a smile.

“Well I’m certainly glad you trust me not to have poisoned my own drink to get to you, my Lord,” Aria said with a giggle. After the forced laughs of those old dogs from a moment before, it sounded like music to Lukas’ ears.

“I believe I still owe you a dance, do I not?” Lukas asked, setting his unfinished glass down on the tray of a passing servant. The servant bowed low, holding the tray out for Aria’s glass without a word, and for but a moment a smile crossed her face at the sight of the servant. Then, she put her glass down next to Lukas’, and held a hand out to him daintily.

“I believe you do,” she said back.

Being farther into the night now, the dance floor was much more sparsely populated. Many of the prior dancers had moved off to the tables to dine and converse, and the band was playing slower, quieter music now. Lukas recognized the song and pulled Aria into a dance, settling into the familiar rhythm quickly.

“Was there something of concern your brother had for you, my Lord?” Aria asked quietly.

“No, not a thing,” Lukas said back, the lie falling off his tongue easily. “My brother Elias worries too easily, he was afraid some old codger was trying to get one of my other brothers drunk enough to sign a marriage contract with his daughter. Nothing abnormal, at these sorts of events.”

“Oh my, your brothers must have quite a few wives by now, then,” Aria jokingly replied.

“Old codgers trying, not my brothers actually signing,” Lukas said back, the corners of his lips turned up a bit in a smirk. “Perhaps my brother Adlet might be so foolish, but the rest of us are quite well mannered.”

“It would be rather amusing to be introduced at some point, from the sound of it,” she said coyly.

“Indeed,” Lukas agreed.

As the dance and conversation continued, Lukas kept his eyes out across the crowd, stealing glances towards the throne where Alyssia remained even now. The Emperor also remained seated, although Prince Cassian had notably disappeared. Perhaps he’d gone out to mingle?

“Looking for someone in particular?” Aria asked.

“No,” Lukas said honestly. He was looking for a few particular people. “Just enjoying the sights. It isn’t often I come to the capital.”

“What’s Selerica like?” She continued.

“Every bit as impressive as Kasin, if a bit warmer,” Lukas smiled.

“Is your family here tonight, Lady Aria?” Lukas asked during a lull in the conversation, after a few moments of silence spent listening to a violinist carry an enchanting tune.

“Why yes, my father and mother are both here,” she responded, and for the very first time, Lukas heard a hint of hesitation in her voice.

Oh? Interesting…

“And what might their names be?” Lukas prodded further, the ever present mystery of just who his partner actually was coming back to the forefront of his mind.

“I should think a more proper introduction would be in order for a person of your status, my Lord,” she said back, faltering just a touch in her step.

She doesn’t want to talk about family, Lukas noted. His mood soured slightly, though he showed no outward sign of it. A suspicion he’d had for a while now was slowly creeping deeper in, and he didn’t like the direction it was going.

“What lands do your family own, then? Surely that’s not so improper to share,” Lukas said, a cold smile on his face.

“We’re from Kasin, my Lord,” she responded.

Lukas dropped his hands from her, abruptly ending the dance, though he kept the smile on his face all the same. Aria met his gaze, but now, he could see the cracks in her mask.

“Incredible, really, how quickly it can fall apart,” He said, wiping his hands on his jacket, still smiling all the same.

A whirlwind of emotions crossed Aria’s face in just a moment. Despair, hurt, and something else…

Then, similar to how they had been interrupted in their previous dance, an unfamiliar boy’s voice spoke out from behind Lukas.

“You might be Lukas Von Lichtenwald, then?” The boy said, voice clear and high.

“Yes,” Lukas said, distaste filling his voice as he finished brushing off his hands. “And my apologies, but I’ve somewhere to be…” Lukas turned around, voice trailing off as he saw just who had spoken to him.

Standing only a few feet behind him, head tilted to the side and with an unimpressed look on his face, was Cassius Kierland.

“Your Highness!” Lukas said instantly, dropping to a knee as his heart skipped a beat. Behind him he heard Aria gasp and drop low as well, though he dared not look back to see her.

“Enough of that. We’ll skip the introductions, since it seems we both know who the other is.”

Lukas slowly rose from his knee, dropping his mask back into place with a perfect, friendly smile.

“Have you come to see me, your Highness?”

“Enough of that as well. Call me Cassius. And yes, but here isn’t the place. We’re taking space out of this lovely dance floor, are we not? Let’s go elsewhere.”

There was a murmur from the crowd on all sides of them, and Lukas felt a bead of sweat form at the small of his back.

Please, for Sarian’s sake, don’t let me mess this up, Lukas thought, as Cassius guided them off the dance floor. They left Aria and a bewildered, undoubtedly gossiping group of dancers behind, heading for the staircase opposite where Elias had dragged him earlier.

Even as they kept walking, Lukas couldn’t get Aria’s last look out of his mind. That last emotion, just what was it? There’d been so much to unpack, and it was only there for a fraction of a section.

At the very far end of the upper balcony, as close as one could possibly be to the thrones at the back of the room, was a silk curtained booth not unlike where Elias had brought him. The difference, however, was astounding. Where the previous booth had been lavish, this booth was positively ostentatious. Deep purple and teal curtains, trimmed in what was undoubtedly real gold thread, lined the edges of the royal booth, and there were a number of the silver and teal armoured royal knights guarding the entrance. Cassius did not so much as address them as they approached, the knights stood to attention on their own, and then Cassius parted the curtains to invite Lukas in.

As he stepped inside the dimly lit and very closed off booth, a decorative hardwood roof low over his head and only a much smaller window of tinted glass looking out into the hall, Lukas caught a glimpse of something in his peripheral. A flash of platinum blonde, from the far end of the hall. He turned his head to look, but it was gone in a moment.

Was that… Kurtis? Or Leon? Lukas wondered. It had certainly seemed so, but then, why would they be up here? Is that why he couldn’t find them for the past hour? And why did it look like they were near one of the servant’s doors?

Then Cassius pulled the curtains shut, and the outside world became muffled and distant.

“There, that’s better,” Cassius said with a sigh, plopping down rather unceremoniously across from Lukas. “Feel free to take a seat, they don’t bite. We keep the mimic cushions locked up downstairs.”

“Mimic cushions?” Lukas asked, bewildered. “Just what is a mimic cushion?”

“Well, you see, it’s like a cushion. Except it’s a mimic.”

“Of course, your Highness,” Lukas said, taking a seat a bit tentatively. The soft, burgundy cushion was just as comfortable as it had looked.

“Didn’t I tell you to drop the ‘your Highness’ bit?” Cassius said deadpan, leaning back casually. “It gets old after a while, if you haven’t noticed, my Lord.”

Lukas successfully prevented a frown from crossing his face. He liked his title… and why shouldn’t he? It was an honour not many had.

Cassius eyed him in a way that was not friendly, nor overtly hostile. It certainly did nothing to quell the nerves in Lukas’ stomach. Up close, Lukas got his first good look at the boy who was his Kasin counterpart: the youngest son of the most powerful man in the city. Both boys were about twelve, near identical in height, and held nearly equal positions in power… nearly.

Where Lukas’ hair was a platinum blonde, almost white in the right lighting, Cassius’ was a black so deep it seemed to draw in the light around it, and his eyes were as dark to match.

“So you’re to be my stepbrother, then,” Cassius said abruptly.

Lukas blinked a few times.

“Yes, it would seem so.”

“Hm,” Cassius hummed, then went silent again. Not once did his coal black eyes leave Lukas’ face, burning into him like hot embers.

“Have I something on my face?” Lukas eventually asked, uncomfortable with the extended silence.

“No.”

“...”

“...”

“Did you bring me here to speak with, or stare at,” Lukas finally deadpanned.

“To get to know you.”

“By what, staring at me?”

“There’s a lot you can tell of someone just from sight alone,” Cassius said back plainly. “As I said, I brought you here to get to know you.”

“By not speaking, just to be clear.”

“Yes.”

The two boys held eye contact for a tense, prolonged moment. Neither moved a muscle, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, Lukas finally gave up.

Lukas slumped down in the chair, sighing deeply as he lost the battle to keep up his mask. Between the disappointment and mystery of Aria, the peculiarity of Elias and now the oddity of this prince, it finally got to him.

My apologies, Sarian. I sincerely hope this reflects only on me, and not the family, though I know it is a vain hope.

“You know, it’s improper to sit so casually before royalty,” Cassius remarked without a hint of emotion in his voice.

“Yes, and it’s improper to go interrupting people in the middle of a dance. As a couple of people could stand to learn tonight,” Lukas said back sarcastically.

“I could have you executed for speaking to me like that,” Cassius said, again in the same deadpan tone.

Lukas shot upright, instantly sobered from his moment of weakness.

“Relax. This little nook is enchanted, nothing we say can be heard, even by the guards right outside that curtain.”

“How much does something like that even cost?” Lukas wondered, curiosity burning through even over the sudden fear of having insulted a prince.

“Nothing, when your father is a sorcerer,” Cassius said.

“Does this mean I’m not to be executed?” Lukas responded, beginning to relax.

“Of course not. That was a joke.”

“Oh,” Lukas said back. “I suppose that would be a joke, wouldn’t it?”

“Indeed. Did you like it?”

Lukas paused to think for a second before responding.

“Yes, I think that’s quite funny, actually.”

“Indeed.”

An awkward silence followed. Then it dragged on, and then a bit more. Lukas felt a bit more sweat build at his back, but mostly for how uncomfortable he felt now, not how afraid. The silence was somehow more unbearable than Elias’ ramblings.

“What is Princess Alyssia like?” Lukas asked, desperate for anything to break the silence.

“Good,” Cassius said back, then went silent again.

Please, for the love of all that is good and true in this world, let me talk to a normal person tonight. At this point, I would even take Adlet. Anyone.

“Have… have you met Sarian, yet?” Lukas asked, trying to push a smile back onto his face. It probably came out looking as awkward as Lukas felt.

“No.”

“...”

“...”

“Well, have you… uhm…” Lukas floundered. Nowhere, nowhere in any of his etiquette lessons had he been taught how to talk to someone like this. Why didn’t he just respond? Properly?! Like how he was supposed to!

“What are your family’s intentions for my sister?” Cassius shot out suddenly, catching Lukas totally off guard.

“Wha- intentions? For Sarian to marry her, as far as I have heard. What do you mean?”

Cassius stayed silent, watching him intently, for longer than Lukas would have liked. Then, all at once, the statue-like demeanour around the young prince dropped. He exhaled, closing his eyes in a sigh as he breathed out in what seemed to be relief. The forced casual pose he had taken before, and now Lukas could see how forced it had been, relaxed into a true casual slouch, and it was like Cassius’ eyes had taken on a whole new light. No longer did they burn into Lukas’ own, rather, they now looked all but normal.

“I must say, that’s a relief, of sorts,” Cassius said, pushing open the curtain to the booth, revealing a servant standing at the ready with a tray of more light foods and drinks. The servant placed the tray on the table, not meeting either boy in the eyes, then left without a word, pulling the curtain shut behind him.

“A relief?”

Cassius smiled, waving a hand over the drinks and foods prepared. It was a lavish, expensive spread of appetisers, even for someone as wealthy as a Lichtenwald.

“We all have our fears and worries, don’t we? Not just Elias.”

How does he…

Lukas gave a tight lipped smile, beginning to feel much more relaxed, in spite of the obvious threat.

“I take it the other booths across this hall aren’t so precious as to be enchanted as well?” Lukas pried, taking a glass of red table wine from the platter. Cassius responded with his own glass of white.

“Most certainly not… not that I would know.”

So they aren’t enchanted, but Cassius wasn’t listening, Lukas translated, he hoped correctly. Cassius didn’t seem to be implying that he was listening, and based on that assumption, then…

“You seem a bit familiar with Elias’ quirks, aren’t you?” Lukas questioned, raising his glass for a toast. Cassius smiled, then raised his own.

“I like to do my research.”

Clink.

They both drank.

“Is that a confession that Kierland spies are in Selerica? I could bring us to war over that,” Lukas teased back.

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” Cassius responded seriously.

“That was a joke.”

“Ah, I suppose that would be, wouldn’t it?”

Lukas chuckled, and Cassius smiled in response. A genuine smile, if only for a moment.

“I am truly relieved, though. And forgive me for my lack of trust, on matters such as this,” Cassius said, his voice darkening.

“Matters such as this? And, I’m not sure I quite see where your lack of trust was… at least nothing beyond the typical,” Lukas commented.

“That would be because I’ve yet to do this,” Cassius said, and then raised a single hand.

Snap. His fingers twitched, and Lukas watched in amazement as two magic circles of interlocking blue runes of light appeared in the air, as if they had been there all along, and then instantly faded away as if being washed down a stream. The blue lights were pulled quietly by an invisible force, bleeding into the air until nothing remained but the memory.

“A spell…?” Lukas said, wonder in his voice.

“Indeed. A rather simple rune, for detecting lie from truth.”

Lukas’ head swam with the possibilities of such a thing. Certainly, he’d heard of such things before in textbooks and from tutors, but to see it himself…

“But I had thought-” Lukas said, trailing off in amazement as he watched the air where the runes had been, as if they could reappear at any moment.

“That I lacked the sorcerous powers of my family blood?” Cassius said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. Lukas focused back on the present, realising how he may have just said exactly the wrong thing.

Cassius’ black eyes bored into him, watching just as intently as before.

“While my eyes may lack the sorcerous light of my father,” Cassius muttered darkly. “The wizarding arts require no bloodline to learn, if you’ve the right mind and resources.”

Lukas nodded slowly, as he came to understand just what the prince meant.

Cassius sighed, then lost the dark, heavy look to his eyes.

“The spell has many flaws, unfortunately. It is far from all-powerful, so I had the need of putting you off-balance, to assist the spell in its function. My apologies for the earlier conversation as well, then. It certainly was… uncomfortable.”

“You can apologise by explaining yourself, then,” Lukas said, taking a page from the book of a certain girl in yellow.

“I suppose I owe you as much, don’t I?” Cassius said, an amused smile playing at his mouth. “Very well.”

“Why did you wish to know my family’s intentions with Alyssia, when we’ve already agreed to a betrothal? And why did you come to me individually, why not any of my brothers?” Lukas inquired, pushing his luck with how forceful he was being.

“I came to you because you were the least likely to be involved. As for your family’s intentions, that was to see if you were involved, since you would surely know, if you were,” Cassius said cryptically, as he casually took another sip of table wine.

“Know about what?” Lukas asked, following suit as he took a large sip of his own.

“About the plot to assassinate my sister.”

Lukas choked on his drink, coughing some of it back up into the glass.

“The plot to do what now?”