By the time it came for the family to return from their various daily activities and prepare for the evening, Marie-Fey had decided she would attend with them.

She informed Zaydan in the most flippant way possible, refusing to state openly that she wanted him to attend with her while also wanting him to attend with her, but he just smiled and said he would get ready before leaving for his rooms, soon distracted by Beldon who shot something snide in his direction and earned a snap in return, the pair setting each other off before they were even half way up the stairs.

Marie-Fey, like the rest of the family, ignored them and went to her rooms, where she opened the doors to her dressing room and stared into the depths as the mass of gowns.

She pulled out a pale pink one, set it on the bed... and then just stared it.

The dress didn't fill her with confidence. If didn't feel like armour. Not the way a good outfit should.

It felt like she was trying to imitate Rosalia.

She shoved the gown on the floor in disgust and spun away, eyes falling on her vanity and she froze, staring.

There was a blemish on the mirror surface, like it had been misted up.

She frowned at it. It hadn't been damaged that morning.

Striding over, she reached for the glass to wipe a finger across it – to check if it was a fog or damage – when, between blinks, words appeared amidst the mist and her fingers stilled inches from wiping them away.

Stay. Here.

Marie-Fey stared at the words for a long, long moment, then blinked twice, to see if they would vanish as quickly as they'd appeared.

They were still there and Marie-Fey's brow creased.

Apparently, she had stumbled into a ridiculous ghost story that should be reserved for winter fireside gathering.

She shook her head. There was undoubtedly a reasonably explanation behind this, not that she could think what it would be.

But whatever it was, she wasn't playing into it. How muddled must her brain be if she was seeing ghostly women and magically appearing words?

Stupid.

She grabbed up one of her handkerchiefs, bent down and swept the cloth diagonally down through the mist, destroying the words as quickly as they'd appeared as the glass came back into focus and a face that wasn't Marie-Fey looked back at her from the reflection, deathly pale, horrified.

And with the left-hand side of her face smashed in, like someone had taken a mace to the once-beautiful face of the dead women who stood where Marie-Fey should have stood.

Marie-Fey screamed, recoiling backwards, the face recoiling with her as she stumbled backwards and slammed into a body that caught her and held on until she had her balance.

The next time Marie-Fey focused on the mirror, her own highly disturbed face staring back at her, pale and stunned and in Maanah's arms, her lady looking down at her with a calm, untouched expression, seemingly unperturbed by her mistress's outcry and certainly not having seen what Marie-Fey had seen.

Marie-Fey wrenched out of her arms, stared at the mirror for a moment, then round on Maanah.

"What?" she snapped.

"Are you alright?' Maanah asked calmly.

"I'm fine. Lost my footing, I'm sure!"

"I'm sure," Maanah replied and there was an edge to her tone that set Marie-Fey's teeth on edge.

She levelled her dark eyes on Maanah. "What do you want? You should be getting ready for the party."

"I thought I might help you get ready."

"Why would you do that? You haven't helped me since we arrived here," Marie-Fey shot back and something flickered behind Maanah's eyes.

Marie-Fey didn't retract the statement, though she figured Maanah might have misinterpreted it. She had genuinely only meant neither Maanah nor Gharam had needed to help her with her day-to-day prep because she had staff, Maanah hadn't seemed to take it that way - but she didn't correct her.

She just spun away and snatched her gown from the floor.

"My maids will arrive soon, no, you do not need to help me get ready," Marie-Fey said and Maanah's hand settled over hers, gently squeezing the one that crushed the fabric.

"Then might I at least suggest a gown more befitting your beauty?" Maanah asked and Marie-Fey stilled.

She was silent for a moment, then looked away.

"You don't think I'm beautiful enough to carry a gown like this?"

"I think this gown would become Rosalia more than you. You can wear this, but she will always look better."

Marie-Fey dropped the gown and Maanah caught it, setting it aside before she walked into Marie-Fey dressing room and retrieved another gown.

It was a blazing red, off the shoulders with diamonds all along the edges, the full skirts heavy and full and glistening with tiny fragments of glass painstakingly stitched in to catch light without being too visible.

"I think this gown becomes you," Maanah said as she walked back into the bedroom, "Rosalia could wear this, but you will always look better."

Marie-Fey looked up at her and Maanah gently set the gown aside.

"I did not believe you really had insecurities."

"Excuse me?" Marie-Fey asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I didn't believe there was really anything that could get through your armour. That your aggression and unshakeable confidence went right down to the core."

Maanah slowly took a seat on one of the dainty armchairs, looking at her.

"Someone tried to kill you and your response was to try and put the fear of god in them in return."

"There is no use in showing them that they scare me," Marie-Fey snapped.

"And yet that woman affected you like I have never seen before," Maanah pointed out and Marie-Fey closed her mouth, before looking away.

"We all have our weaknesses," she muttered.

"We do," Maanah said, getting back to her feet and picking up the gown. "And I dislike that some fool of a courtier can access yours so easily."

Marie-Fey glanced at her as Maanah spread the gown out on the bed and returned to the dressing room, gathering the appropriate underskirts and cage, along with shoes, stockings and shawl.

"You have to face all those people again tonight, you know that," she said returning, "You are not going to feel confident in the first moments, no one can blame you for that and there is nothing wrong with feeling insecure and anxious, but you may as well help yourself a little by feeling confident in your clothes and appearance. Clothes how power over confidence, and I would like to help you regain some of your confidence, it is my responsibility as your lady's maid to make sure you present at the best you can be in any situation."

Marie-Fey eyed her for a long, long moment, then clicked her tongue and turned away and Maanah became to unhook the back of her day gown, quickly and efferently loosening it and pulling it off, removing the various layer until she was down to her undergarments.

She then turned back to Maanah who became to redress her in the clothing she'd picked out.

Just as she was tying Marie-Fey's dancing slippers, there was a soft knock and Gharam peered in, looking beautiful in a mint green gown – a colour even Rosalia struggled to wear.

"Um... I was hoping I might dress your hair," she said, her hair almost a whisper.

Marie-Fey just shot her an indecipherable look before sitting down at her vanity, eyes cast anywhere but at the mirror – even though she could see it was just her face reflected out of the corner of her eye.

Gharam quickly but expertly pulled her coiled hair into a rolling waterfall that fell down her back, half pinned at the top of her hair with silver and ruby ornaments shaped like birds and... what appeared to be tiny jewelled daggers.

She stared at them for a moment, before giving her ladies and incredulous look.

"Lord Zaydan had them commissioned back home and brought them with him. He decided you might like a little sass in your hair this evening," Maanah replied as she clipped Marie-Fey's necklace and earrings into place.

"Of course he did," Marie-Fey muttered, rolling her eyes as Gharam locked the last hairpin in place and blew dust-silver into her hair to make it gleam before she shoved to her feet, turning to her full length mirror as Maanah draped her chiffon shawl across her arm and handed her her red fan laced with silver.

She looked at herself for a moment, and visibly saw the tension roll out of her shoulders.

She wasn't exactly looking forward to the night, but Maanah was right. She glanced at the reflections of her ladies and something strangely akin to pride seemed to have settled in their eyes as they examined her gown and hair and makeup.

After a moment's viewing, she snapped her fan shut and ended the moment.

"Maanah, you still need to dress. Go. Now."

Maanah bowed and swept out.

"Gharam, go help her, she must be quick if she wishes to attend."

Gharam quickly curtsied and hurried to the door before pausing and looking back.

"What?"

Gharam seemed to choose her words first, then nodded. "You are always incredible to me," she said with a bright, honest smile before gliding out.

Marie-Fey stood stunned for a moment, then blinked and pursed her lips, turning away, gaze falling on her vanity mirror again.

She hadn't actually seen... whatever she thought she had seen...

But clearly she was more stressed than even she thought she was because the memory of that... that face loomed into her minds eyes and she turned and hurriedly walked out of the room, ignoring the chill that rolled down her back as she walked away as fast as she could without being obvious she was walking away as fast as she could until she reached the main stairs and rushed down them, coming to a stop beside Zaydan.

He turned from where she was speaking to Braydon as he felt her reach his side and his face lit up in a warm smile.

The word 'adoring' came to mind, judging by the look in his eye, and Marie-Fey hurled that word out of her thought process and glared at him.

He clearly didn't care as he took her arm and wrapped his around his, kissing the back of her hand before saying, "You look beyond divine."

"You have to say that, apparently you bought these hair ornaments," Marie-Fey replied.

He grinned at her. "Another little gift from your husband," he said.

"I don't believe you. Maanah said you bought them for me."

He winced at that. "Yes, alright. I had them made under the pretence they'd be from your husband. Something to show his adoration for you, and sorrow to not be able to attend with you."

"It hardly matters anymore," Marie-Fey said with a cool shrug as her icy eyes fixed on Zaafira who was sat neatly on a stool in a stunning peacock gown. "Everyone now knows I've been abandoned by my husband. I'm the laughingstock of the whole society."

Zaafira just gave her an uncaring shrug in response. "I didn't say anything that was untrue," she replied.

Zaydan's muscles tensed under Marie-Fey's fingers.

Zaafira calmly crossed her legs and folded her hands on her thigh, delicate and proper, like she had lived her entire life in this society rather than her own.

"I shall certainly be interested in how you command the room this even, Marie-Fey," she said, expression innocent and respectful, "I'm expecting a lot from you. We shall what you can do beyond your fancy gown and pretty hair."

Marie-Fey narrowed her eyes and Zaafira's wicked grin bled through her prim and proper smile.

"That's better," she growled.

"Zaafira," Zaydan hissed and Zaafira held up her hands and rose, smoothing out her gown, glancing around as Maanah appeared in a deep green gown.

With her arrival, everyone was ready and Zaydan tightened his arm around Marie-Fey and turned away, pulling her out of the doors and towards the waiting carriages and the night.