I sighed heavily as I adjusted my hold on Tritetia’s hand, starting to feel fatigued with all the attention. As soon as we were announced, all eyes had turned to us, the hum of conversation shifting as nobles whispered. Some watched us with polite interest, others with poorly concealed intrigue, but I hardly cared for any of it. I presented myself before the Emperor and Empress, exchanging the expected pleasantries as they acknowledged me publicly. It wasn’t much different from when I had been presented the first time, save for the fact more people were present. When Isadora first adopted me, only those who held a high noble title were allowed in the throne room, but at this formal ball, many lesser nobles and families were present.
I glanced at the Emperor and Empress, who were walking around the room and casually talking with some of the court that was present. The Emperor was as composed as ever, his expression unreadable as he moved through the crowd and the Empress seemed more relaxed than she had the first time she saw me. She still looked at me as if she was staring at someone else, but the haunted, grieving weight that had once clung to her gaze had lessened.
I exhaled quietly, shifting my weight as I allowed my eyes to scan the room, barely suppressing another sigh. The ball was exactly as I had expected—tedious, exhausting, and filled with more meaningless small talk than I had the patience for. Most of the evening so far had been spent greeting nobles with Isadora and Caspian, or listening to people try and ingratiate themselves to me. The ones that weren’t trying to curry favor were attempting to charm Tritetia, their smiles too wide, their compliments overly rehearsed. It was painfully transparent, and I had to keep my expression neutral as I watched one particularly desperate noble’s son attempt to impress her with a poorly told story about his family’s military victories.
Tritetia, to her credit, handled it with her usual soft-spoken grace, nodding politely and offering the occasional word to keep the conversation from dragging. But I could tell she was uncomfortable, the way her shoulders tensed ever so slightly, the way her fingers curled subtly against my sleeve. It was clear she didn’t enjoy this kind of attention and I started to consider using her shyness as an excuse to leave early.
“So, you’re the brat Isadora adopted.”
A new voice made me glance up, and I saw a girl with golden blonde hair and silver eyes glancing down at me as if my mere presence offended her. The dress she wore had a neckline that barely avoided being scandalous and all the accents and gems made it clear that she wanted everyone to know who she was. I did my best to keep a neutral expression, bowing my head as Tritetia did the same.
“I am indeed Isadora’s son,” I said smoothly, my voice calm despite the irritation prickling at the edges of my patience. “And you are?”
“You mean your mother didn’t even tell you how to recognize your own family?” the girl sneered and I hummed thoughtfully, resisting the desire to roll my eyes. If she was insisting she was family, then she was Amalia Norac, the only child of the Emperor’s sister and future Grand Duchess. The Grand Duke and Duchess were known to be polite and kind to those who lived in their duchy, and I forced a smile as I bowed my head again.
“Forgive me, cousin. I must admit that I didn’t recognize you at first,” I started, glancing back up to see her expression. From what I knew, she was about sixteen, and she must have thought that I would simply cave to her because she was older, a triumphant smirk settled on her round face. Not a chance .“But I didn’t think the daughter of the Grand Duke would be so mean.”
Her smirk immediately disappeared, and I watched as she tried to keep composure. Isadora had warned me Amalia was a bit hot headed, but this seemed like more than simple pettiness–this felt like jealousy. I held her gaze steadily, unbothered by the way her silver eyes narrowed slightly, irritation flickering across her face.
“I think it's worse that I’m not allowed to learn about my own cousins until the rest of the empire,” Amalia managed and I chuckled slightly.
“That’s not my fault, cousin. Perhaps you should discuss such with Grandmother and Grandfather,” I continued, keeping my tone light but firm. Amalia's expression twisted, and I could tell she hadn’t expected me to throw that back at her. For a brief moment, her silver eyes flickered toward the Emperor and Empress, and I saw the flicker of anger in her expression. “After all, they are the Sun and the Moon of Naera; the rest of us merely follow their light.”
Amalia’s expression twisted further and I smirked slightly as I realized her issue. She was upset that she wasn’t a member of the Imperial family, and since Isadora was nearly twice her age, she had decided to take out her frustrations on me, someone younger than her. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to goad me into making a scene so she could accuse me of belittling her or something worse, but I wasn’t in the mood to entertain her petty jealousy.
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“I’m sorry, cousin, but I–”
“There you are. I wondered where you had gotten off too,” the scent of something earthy and slightly sweet tinged with magic filled the air, and I turned to see the man approaching us. I immediately recognized his short brown hair and hollow black eyes, forcing myself not to squeeze Tritetia’s hand as my anger grew. Amalia immediately changed her expression, shifting from anger to joy as she clung to him, as if he was her entire world. “I had someone I wanted to introduce to you.”
“I was just talking to my new cousin,” Amalia cooed, smiling up as the man patted her arm. “After all, it’s my first time meeting him.”
“Is that so?” he finally turned to look at me, and I forced myself to meet his gaze with an expression of neutrality, despite the way my stomach churned. “Good evening, Young Star. I am Duke Miller’s eldest son, Seymour.”
I nodded as he bowed, my eyes taking in his appearance. He was taller than he had been three years ago, his features more refined with age, but I would have recognized him from scent alone. That magic weed he always smoked, the slight hint of sun and sand from where he accompanied his father to Pyraxia and worst of all, the scent of disinfectant that clung to his hands. Unlike Yssac, who seemed to have been defanged, it was clear that Seymour had not changed from my previous life.
Yssac was the man who had ordered my mother’s death, but it had been Seymour who mutilated her body. He had an unhealthy obsession with magic, and developed a hobby of dissecting magical beings and creatures to try and understand how their magic differed from a human’s. Yssac had given my mother’s body to him so Seymour could see if eating Kapral’s flesh had affected her in any way, and I still remembered the dismissive and disappointed way he talked about her. How he had simply dumped her body in the lake near his home, denying my mother the right to be buried.
Hatred simmered beneath my skin, but I swallowed it down, keeping my expression calm. Seymour was watching me, his black eyes scanning me with a kind of lazy curiosity, as if he were appraising something in a shop rather than looking at a person. I forced my grip on Tritetia’s hand to remain steady, keeping my breathing even as I spoke.
“It was not my intention to keep my cousin’s attention.”
“It’s no matter. You are family after all, and I have yet to join,” Seymour rebutted and I felt a shiver run my spine. I recalled Seymour talking about a wife once or twice when he met with Yssac, but I had never realized it was the Emperor’s niece that he had married. No wonder Marquess Blackwood made sure to keep Duke Miller on his side as he plotted to detrone Caspian. “And I take this lovely one is Princess Tritetia?”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Tritetia managed quietly, keeping her gaze down as she introduced herself, but I could see Seymour appraising her. Tritetia being half sea-beast wasn’t a secret, as it was fairly common for people in Aehorus to be of mixed blood, and I had no doubt that Seymour was already imagining what he wanted to do. The way his gaze flickered over Tritetia, lingering for a second too long on her hands, her throat, her barely exposed collarbone; he wasn’t looking at her like a person. He was looking at her like his next subject.
“I’ve heard a lot about Aehorus, although I have sadly never been,” Seymour managed, his voice calm and charismatic as he continued to dissect Tritetia with his gaze. “I would love the chance to learn more about your home.”
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to smile. If Seymour was interested in Tritetia, then I would use that to my advantage. “Tritetia often spends her summers here at the palace. Perhaps you and my cousin can visit while she’s here and we can make up for lost time.”
Seymour’s eyes lit up and I knew he had taken the bait. On the surface, my words made sense; now that I had been presented publicly, I would be allowed to invite people to my personal palace for visits. Since Amalia was only a few years older than me, it made sense that I would invite someone close to my age and Seymour would be allowed to come with her as her fiance. It came off as a mature decision, and one most of the nobility would take note of.
But I knew Seymour wasn’t thinking of political gain. He had dismissed me the moment he saw Tritetia and I could already see him considering the best way to satisfy his sick curiosity.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Seymour said smoothly, flashing a smile that was likely meant to be charming. “I’m sure Amalia would love to become better acquainted with her cousin as well.”
Amalia’s expression faltered slightly, as if she hadn’t quite planned on being included in the arrangement, but she recovered quickly, nodding with forced enthusiasm. “Of course. We should make an outing of it. Perhaps a private gathering where we can speak freely without all this noise.”
“I will do my best, cousin,” I beamed, doing my best to seem young and naive. Amalia likely only found me annoying, a typical kid who still didn’t know how to filter what I said. Everything I said earlier was appropriate for a teenage boy that had been approached with hostility, and now I merely seemed like I wanted to spend time with another boy. “I hope you’ll be nicer next time we meet.”
“I will be, cousin,” Amalia managed, but I could see the way her jaw tightened ever so slightly, her silver eyes flickering with something unreadable. Perhaps she hadn’t expected me to hold my own against her so easily, or maybe she was simply annoyed that I had maneuvered her into an invitation she hadn’t particularly wanted. Either way, it didn’t matter and I took a deep breath as Seymour finally pulled her away to introduce her to someone else.
