I climbed into the carriage, collapsing opposite of Isadora and Caspian as we started to pull away. My mother had given me one last hug, adjusting my jacket as her eyes shone with pride. I wasn’t quite tall enough for her to look up at me, but I was getting close and I could already tell she was starting to realize it. She hadn’t said anything about it yet, but I caught the way she hesitated before placing her hands on my shoulders, as if she was trying to hold onto something slipping through her fingers. The moment had passed quickly—she had smiled, smoothed my collar one last time, and sent me off with a fond “Try to enjoy yourself, sweetheart.”

  And now, here I was, trapped in a carriage as Valaine’s tantrum echoed down the path behind us.

  “It’s not fair!” she shouted, her voice carrying through the garden. “I should be allowed to go! What am I supposed to do while you’re all off at some fancy party?”

  I resisted the urge to sigh, settling deeper into my seat as Caspian ran a hand over his face. Isadora, on the other hand, looked more amused than annoyed, her lips twitching with the effort to suppress a smile.

  “You could go to bed,” I shouted back, glancing out the window as the palace disappeared behind us. Valaine’s screech of outrage was muffled by the carriage walls, but I didn’t need to see her face to know she was glaring daggers at me. She had been sulking ever since she found out she wasn’t allowed to attend. It didn’t matter that the event was meant for those thirteen and older, or that she had two years before she would be expected to make her own debut. To her, the fact that I was being given something she wasn’t was an unforgivable crime.

  “Don’t antagonize her, Cyran. She’s just upset that you and your mother are leaving tomorrow,” Isadora continued, her tone light but firm as she folded her hands in her lap. “She’s grown quite attached to your mother, you know.”

  I frowned slightly, turning my gaze away from the window. My mother had mentioned it before, laughing softly about how Valaine had started treating her like a second nursemaid, trailing after her whenever she didn’t have anyone to rope into her antics. I wasn’t sure if it was because my mother reminded Valaine of her own, or if she simply enjoyed having another adult around who wasn’t constantly trying to rein her in. Either way, it didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t particularly fond of sharing a palace with her. If anything, I was relieved to finally have a space of my own.

  Caspian, who had remained silent for most of the exchange, finally exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he glanced at Isadora. “They’ll work it out.”

  Isadora hummed noncommittally, but she didn’t push the subject any further. The carriage continued through the gardens, the wheels rolling smoothly over the cobblestone paths. The ball was being held in the main palace, which meant the ride was short, though unnecessary in my opinion. The distance could have easily been walked, but Isadora had reminded me of the purpose of it. It was all for show; it didn’t matter that we were only crossing through a garden, what mattered was that people saw the royal family arriving in proper fashion.

  “I know you’re not excited by the change,” Isadora’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and I glanced up to meet her silver eyes. They had grown a bit sharper as she got closer to replacing her parents, but the kind warmth never truly faded. “But remember, it's just a step to providing the life you want for your mother.”

  I nodded, finally sitting up a bit more in my seat as her words hit me harder than I liked. Isadora wasn’t completely wrong; the only reason I had kept up appearances and attended my lessons was to keep my mother’s death from shifting more. Even attending the ball was to ensure that the image of Caspian and Isadora’s son remained strong, solidifying my place in the palace. The more cemented my role was, the harder it would be for anyone to move against me—or against my mother. But even knowing that didn’t make me look forward to the event any more than before.

  “I’d rather be reading,” I muttered, shifting to glance at the main palace. Caspian let out a short huff, not quite a laugh, but close and Isadora smiled, shaking her head slightly.

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  “Just a few hours, Cyran,” she insisted and I huffed, feeling as the carriage finally started to roll to a stop. “Then you can disappear into whatever quiet corner you want.”

  “No take backs,” I muttered, earning a soft chuckle from Isadora as the carriage finally settled. Caspian wasted no time, stepping out first and offering Isadora his hand as she followed, her gown catching the light of the lanterns strung along the path. I adjusted the cuffs of my jacket, resigning myself to the night ahead before stepping out behind them. The moment my boots hit the ground, I was met with a gust of wind carrying an unmistakable scent.

  The salt, the faint brine, the crisp sharpness of ocean air.

  I turned immediately, not carrying about appearances or decorum as I saw Tritetia standing behind me with her mother. The Sovereign of the Tides carried herself with the same effortless command as before, the sea woven into every part of her presence, from the way her coat was embroidered with delicate wave patterns to the sharp, knowing look in her eyes as she walked toward us. And beside her, Tritetia shifted slightly, her fingers twisting together in the way they always did when she was nervous.

  “But… summer is still weeks away,” I managed, turning back to Caspian as he chuckled.

  “Did your mother not tell you? A social debut requires a partner,” he explained, a neutral look on his face. “Aehorus doesn’t do social debuts since they don’t have nobility in the same way we do, so Vivirena offered to let Tritetia be your partner.”

  I stared at him for another moment before slowly, I turned my gaze back toward Tritetia. She was avoiding my gaze, but the scent of the sea didn’t fade as she stopped in front of me, her eyes glued to the ground. She was wearing a pale green dress, the fabric flowing around her like seafoam, shimmering faintly under the lanterns. It wasn’t extravagant, but it suited her—soft and unassuming, yet undeniably fitting for the daughter of the Sovereign of the Tides. She shifted under my gaze, her fingers tightening slightly in the fabric of her dress before she finally looked up at me.

  “I… I hope it’s okay,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the evening breeze. “I know… I’m only a princess in name but…”

  “It’s fine,” I insisted, quickly regaining my composure as I bowed, remembering my etiquette lessons as I took Tritetia’s gloved hand. “I’m simply surprised, your Highness.”

  Vivirena smiled approvingly as she moved ahead of us, and we fell into step behind her as we made out way toward the Imperial palace. I couldn’t help my surprise and slight annoyance, leaning over to whisper to Tritetia.

  “Why didn’t you tell me through the crystal?”

  “I didn’t find out until last night,” Tritetia admitted, and the scent of the sea finally started to fade as we stepped inside the palace, even though I couldn’t tell what part of her body was shifting. She still avoided looking at me, and I could only imagine it was to avoid seeing a vision. “We left first thing this morning, and I thought they would have told you, since they’re the ones who asked for me to be your partner.”

  “Apparently not,” I groaned, schooling my expression into something more neutral as we reached the grand entrance to the ballroom. The towering doors, gilded with gold and inlaid with intricate patterns of the empire’s crest, loomed before us, and for a moment, Tritetia and I were left alone as the adults walked in, introduced by the announcer just inside the room.

  Tritetia gripped my hand tighter as we stood in the hallway, and I chanced another glance at her. Despite having seen her only a year ago, she looked so different than she had the summer before, and I was confused by the scent coming from her. With the smell of the ocean gone, the boyish scent was easier to notice but there was a new scent mixed in, almost replacing the one I had grown familiar with. It was subtle, something I wouldn’t have noticed if I weren’t standing so close, but it was there—a faint, earthy undertone that reminded me of river stones and damp moss.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, it's not your fault,” I whispered, taking a deep breath as I tried to push my thoughts away. “Out of anyone they could have chosen, I’m glad it was you.”

  Tritetia’s grip on my hand finally relaxed, and her shoulders loosened slightly, as if she had been holding her breath this entire time. She nodded, the barest hint of a relieved smile flickering across her face before she glanced toward the ballroom doors. The sound quiet conversation filtered through the space between us, a reminder of the expectations waiting on the other side. She took a deep breath, and before either of us could say anything else, the announcer’s voice rang out through the grand entrance.

  “Presenting His Highness, Prince Cyran Virni Trokha, and Her Highness, Princess Tritetia of Aehorus.”