The chauffeur awaited us just outside the entrance. Beside him stood a carriage I didn't recognise—larger than our usual, its black exterior polished to perfection, corners adorned with intricate gold filigree. The Velmire wyvern crest, ever present, gleamed on the door.

  My father, like most old families, preferred to travel by carriage to formal events. It was, he had explained shortly after I had arrived at the manor as a child, a mark of distinction—something to separate mages from nulls. The meaning of his words had been lost on me at the time.

  Sliding into the leather seat, I wondered—not for the first time, why we had to keep so many vehicles that did the exact same thing.

  The motor hummed low as we departed. Crystal-fuelled motor, I had read somewhere, designed to avoid the integration of mundane mechanics with magical engineering.

  A statement of superiority wrapped in civility, naturally. We're better, why not show it?

  But a darker, crueller part of my brain whispered—We?

  A headache began to pulse just above my brows. I sighed. I couldn't even rub my temples without ruining my makeup.

  "I would have appreciated more than one hour of sleep."

  My father turned his head just slightly, the lamps on the street illuminating his face allowing me to see his aggravated glance.

  Then, without a word, he reached inside his coat and handed me a small vial with a violet liquid.

  I downed the entire vial, sighing in relief once the headache dissolved—grateful, just not enough to say it.

  "Is grandfather not attending the gala?" I asked instead, looking outside the window. The streets were no longer lit by magical flames but by electricity, the sidewalks busy with non-magical passersby. Some stopped in their tracks to stare as the sumptuous carriage rolled past . With a twitch in the corner of his mouth and a wave of his hand, Father drew the curtains.

  "He will be joining us later in the evening."

  The trip from the Velmire estate to the centre of Lumeria took time and forced us to pass through the lower quarters.

  My father's expression only softened once the faint rush of the river Aethel reached our ears.

  The bridge ahead marked the unspoken divide of Belaria's capital.

  My heartbeat quickened as we grew closer to our destination.

  I clasped my sweaty palms together and closed my eyes.

  "What am I supposed to do? When someone brings up the accident."

  "If," Father corrected, "someone brings up the unfortunate event, you are to smile. You'll explain that the matter was exaggerated. That the Wielder's opponents are spreading falsehoods." I risked another glance at my father as the carriage began to slow.

  "It was a robbery attempt?" The excuse they had provided me with sounded improbable at best.

  Father's hands stilled on his cuffs.

  "You are not here to justify yourself, you're here to represent the family. Remember that distinction. The ones who matter already know what happened."

  I didn't know whether the words were meant to comfort or condemn.

  "All you need to do is represent House Velmire with dignity. Nothing more."

  I exhaled slowly, steadying myself, hen faced Father one last time within the privacy of our carriage and curved my lips in a practiced smile. "Of course."

  The door opened. I took the offered hand of the chauffeur for balance as I stepped outside and once both heels touched the ground, I made sure to keep my spine straight and smile for the cameras—as I had done countless times before.

  The Cassel Foundation's grand hall shone like a brand new coin. The chandeliers, adorned with enchanted crystals, spilled soft gold light over the polished marbles. Exotic small birds with vibrant colours and long feathered tails adorned the branches of the enormous tree glowing in the middle of the room. A string quartet played under the warm light of the tree, the melody filling quietly all corners of the Celestine Palace with the aid of magic.

  Despite the heels, I managed to hold Father's pace with ease, my arms looped through his, the velvet of his coat offering the warmth the man wearing it couldn't.

  We were soon intercepted by Lady Cassel—a woman who didn't appear a day over thirty, despite being father's peer, dressed to impress in a light blue gown.

  "Lord Velmire, Lady Alya. I'm so glad you could make it. It wouldn't have felt right to hold the Foundation's gala without House Velmire's presence."

  Father inclined his head in a gesture of respect that stopped just short of genuine warmth. "It's always an honour, Lady Cassel. The Foundation's work remains... admirable."

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  Her eyes shifted to me, the sharp intelligence behind softened. "My, you have grown beautifully. You look positively radiant, my dear—like the night sky itself."

  I summoned my most polished smile, dipping my chin just slightly. "That's very kind of you, Lady Cassel. Though I could never rival the dawn—and you wear it beautifully tonight," Inside, I was counting breaths.

  The older mage let out a delighted laugh, touching my arm in approval before engaging with my father in a brief discussion about the other guests.

  My hands stopped trembling as time passed and nobody seemed to muster the courage to comment on my latest mistake.

  We got approached with clusters of guests. Names that carried weight in every corner of Lumeria. House Devin, House Orapher, the silver haired Senator Clein. The conversations unfolded like a dance I had been trained for all my life—polite laughter, measured nods, knowing silences.

  All downed with glasses of champagne.

  A few of the younger heirs greeted me directly. Some recognising me from our academic years, some with devious smiles, some openly complimenting. I met each gaze with cold politeness. When one lingered too long I drew closer to father, letting my hand rest lightly on his arm as if the gesture were affectionate rather than strategic.

  Father continued speaking—something about trade reforms and taxation policies—but my mind and gaze started to wander around the glittering hall.

  Senators in crisp robes murmured near the fountain. Among them, I recognised a few members of the Union. My pulse quickened.

  I couldn't help it, my eyes skimmed once more among the guests in search of a familiar face framed by long flaxen hair. He wasn't there.

  I forced my attention back to the conversation. My smile back in place, though I could not muster the strength to have it reach my eyes.

  "Lady Velmire."

  The voice belonged to a young man, maybe in his mid-twenties, with short brown hair and light brown eyes. I vaguely recognised him as a member of House Palvin. "I must say, you look spectacular tonight. Though... the rumours hardly do justice to your composure."

  My fingers tightened around the stem of my flute. "Rumours?" I tilted my head with a faint smile. I was already seething. "You mustn't believe everything you hear, Lord Palvin. The capital does love its stories."

  "Ah, but the Isaia affair was such a fascinating one," his tone was polite but his eyes betrayed the pleasure he felt in prodding the wound to see if it still hurt. "Imagine the poor candidate's horror, to arrive and find--"

  "That the security in his household was not what he believed to be? Yes, quite the scandal. I hear he's hiring an entire new staff now. Sensible of him." I took a measured sip of champagne, my eyes never leaving his.

  The young mage blinked before recovering with a laugh.

  "Sharp as ever," he conceded, bowing slightly.

  He excused himself a moment later, murmuring something about greeting my father.

  With a twist of my stomach I noticed the lingering gazes. Father, my only barrier, had been separated by a group of men before.

  My hand trembled once, barely, and I hid it by brushing the smooth fabric of my gown.

  My eyes stopped on the familiar frame of a middle aged man entering the room--candidate Isaia.

  And I wasn't the only one to notice his arrival; many were murmuring and stealing glances at us both.

  Enough.

  "If you'll excuse me, I need another drink," I didn't wait for the other's response.

  I stepped back from the group and crossed the marble hall. My heels sounding like a metronome, I couldn't let the mask slip off until I was alone.

  Once I reached an empty balcony I closed my eyes sighing. I had the urge to rub my palms across my eyes and temples. The cool night air would have to suffice.

  I allowed myself to admire the river flowing beneath me, surrounded by lavish bushes and elegant columns.

  Above, the dark sky seemed endless, indifferent, and scattered with light.

  Despite my name, I had never been good at identifying the stars and constellations. They always seemed like random points that only made sense if someone else helped me draw the lines among them. But my eyes found Sirius immediately—brighter than the rest.

  I let a quiet, humourless breath. "Of course you are."

  I shot the stars an offended look before resting back on a column. I needed to breathe, if only for a moment.

  I straightened my back as soon as I heard the door opening.

  "Enjoying the air?"

  Darius's tone and expression were gentle. But the eyes... it was always the eyes that betrayed a person's real intentions. My father couldn't allow me even a second of peace.

  "I'm just taking a moment, cousin."

  "Of course. I suppose you've earned it, after handling Arvien's disrespect before. Not to mention the excitement of the last few days," he rested his back on the opposite column. We had grown together even though he was five years older. And despite my grandfather always using Darius's existence to pinpoint all of my shortcomings—not being a man seemingly one of them—we were quite friendly to one another. Especially once Darius realised I wasn't an obstacle in becoming the next head of the house after my father.

  "I wouldn't call it excitement, more like a nuisance."

  Darius unsuccessfully repressed a smirk and shrugged lightly. "Nothing grandfather can't handle."

  I scoffed. "I'm sure he's delighted to do so." My shoulders slumped against the column. I felt smaller than a speck of dust.

  "Try to not gather too much attention for now. They'll forget all about it as soon as the next fresh wave of gossip arrives." He pulled from the column and stared at me for a few seconds. "Take a moment for yourself... just don't make it too long. Your father is waiting for you."

  I nodded at the small concession.

  After Darius left I counted five deep breaths, building the mask on, and went back.

  I stopped just as I was about to bump into someone who was probably seeking a quiet place, just like I had. I waited for the man to move out of my way. He didn't.

  "Pardon," I glared at the button of the emerald vest that was just on my direct eyeline. I raised my eyes, ready to confront him, then froze.

  Him.

  Pale golden hair that caught the lamplight. Those ember eyes, the same ones that had seen through every defence in that cell, fixed on me with that damned gentleness.

  He wore evening attire—a well-tailored, deep emerald vest with exquisite golden details over a white silk shirt—so unlike the interrogator, but somehow the same. I noticed the shine of a gold earring poking through the unbound cascade of hair. How bold of him.

  "Lady Velmire," he bowed but didn't move. I didn't find any traces of surprise in his eyes. "I was wondering how long they'd make you parade around after what happened."

  I made myself as tall as possible, even going as far as puffing out my chest. For once, I wished I had worn higher heels.

  "Did you know I was here?"

  He tilted his head slightly, his ember eyes burning into me. "It's rather brutal, isn't it? Sending you smiling and curtsying to the wolves."

  I took a small indignant step back, the doorframe pressed against my back. "You're quite bold to speak to me here, Lord Lioren."

  "Perhaps," he inclined his head towards me, "or perhaps I'm just... concerned. You must be tired."

  I took a step closer, my fist hiding among the folds of my gown. "I don't recall asking for your concern."

  "No," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean you don't need it." I almost rolled my eyes, but something in his eyes made me want to look closer, to find even a clue of his real thoughts.

  Instead, I took a quick glance at his side and wondered if I could slip through. Sirius noticed and immediately took a step back.

  "I apologise, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

  I opened my mouth to tell him exactly how uncomfortable he made me feel, but stopped. His eyes were the only ones throughout the whole event not to fall on me with hidden disdain. To the members of the Union I was a criminal. To the Wielders a failure.

  "I- I have to go back" it came out softer than I intended, almost an exhale.

  I heard voices coming down the corridor and took it as my cue to leave as quickly as my heels would allow, not waiting for his response.