Kristjan pulled at the layers of my skirt, bunching it into the nonexistent space between us.

"Krist," I whispered.

He kissed my neck. "Shh," he teased, pressing his finger to my lips. "Don't make too much noise." His words were hot against my skin; I was scared my mother would walk into her study at any moment. "It would be hard to explain what we're doing in here," he said.

I shut my eyes, thinking about his pewter ones. I gripped the edge of the wood table that he had put me on. He settled my dress over my legs and dragged me close.

"Wait," I said.

His hand covered my mouth. "Princess, stop," he ordered me. His face was serious as he released my lips. "We're both adults."

"Yes, but..." I shifted. "I'm so nervous."

"I thought you wanted this?" he asked.

"I did, but–" I bit my lip.

"Princess," he purred. "Princess... Princess... Princess."

"Princess?" Amy said.

I snapped out of my daydream. She was looking at me for an answer I didn't know.

"Uh, what?" I tried. "What was the question?"

She gestured to the mirror and shook both hangers of the gowns she held against me.

"Sorry," I told her. "I was thinking of someone else. Something, sorry."

"Certainly not the Duke," she teased.

"Actually, no." I shook my head.

The two dresses were very different shades of pink. One was a flirty ball gown with a fluffy skirt; the other was silk and dainty. It was a promise to demonstrate my shape.

"I haven't thought about the Duke in two weeks," I told her. A blatant lie. One I'm sure she didn't believe.

"Do you prefer the salmon or the powdery?" she asked.

"I... I like them both." I was held by an inability to pick. "Which do you prefer?"

She hummed, deciding. "I think the powdered pink is befitting of a princess. Very feminine. Very in this year by rumor."

"That's fine," I told her. "Whichever will do."

"Oh, okay. That was quick." She hung the losing garment in the closet and started to remove the other from its hook. "A shiny lady you will be," she said. "I would not be surprised if you don't find your husband this season. If it's not too forward to suggest."

I shrugged. "I am unsure I'll ever marry," I muttered.

Amy stopped, "Your pardon?" and so boldly that I felt compelled to muster enough strength to laugh. For her benefit. As if my comment had been a joke. As if I wasn't dreading the evening's ball.

She helped me into the dress and then into the Dowager's pants that I intended to hide beneath my skirt.

"Are those comfortable?" she asked as I pulled them on and introduced the dagger.

"Of course, they are... when you get used to them," I said. "I'm still getting used to them, but... in time."

"And the blade?" she wondered. "Are you not worried you'll stab yourself? Or your partner when you dance?"

"Please," I rolled my eyes. "Why? Does it look loose?" I hiked the skirt to peer at it from all angles in the mirror as if I would find a flaw. "It seems secure."

She was confused. "Won't you get sweaty?" she asked.

"First of all," I told her. "There's no guarantee anyone will ask me to dance."

"You're the hostess," she said. "The Princess."

"Aye, but–"

"Last year, you danced all night," she said.

"Well, yes, but– No. I won't get sweaty; I think," I said. "Besides, I like having the knife."

"As you wish." She laced up the back of the gown, spinning me around and double-checking her work. "Yes. I do think this is the one for tonight," she said.

"It doesn't matter," I said.

Amy opened her mouth to speak, but there was a knock at the door. I lit with the hope that it was Ser Willoughby, as he had always been by my side before the balls, but when Amy opened it, it was Elías.

I felt dejected.

"Is Willough still being punished?" I asked.

Elías shrugged. He waltzed into the room and smiled, looking me over. "Your mother used to wear her hair like that before she was married."

I touched my braid.

"You are radiant, 'Liza," he said. "A rose among the thorns."

"Whatever that means," I told him. I huffed. "When will he be released from his sentence? Honestly, it's been so long. I'm starting to wonder who's really the criminal here."

Amy bowed her head uncomfortably and relocated out of the room. I frowned.

"The whole thing makes everyone feel awkward, see?" I gestured to her departure. "If I even bring him up, she vanishes!"

He was unfazed. "Your mother is upset. She is deciding what to do with Ser Willoughby."

"But nothing was his fault," I told him. "Surely you understand that? I was the culprit. I ran away. I forced him to— Oh! You were around when she was misbehaving! No one blamed Ser Elías for the Queen's mistakes!"

He let out a low chuckle. "You were not there, Princess."

I scoffed. "Willoughby deserves better than punishment. He deserves a medal for putting up with me. How much longer must he suffer for my sins?"

"Sins! Ha!" Elías laughed.

"If only you knew," I told him.

That made him scowl. "Never tell me." His voice was flat. "Are you ready? There are several carriages in wait for your welcome."

"Is my father downstairs already?" I asked.

"He is. He's waiting for you by the door."

"And my mother?"

"She'll come later. She is tending to her work."

I sighed. "Can you at least tell him I am sorry?" I wondered.

"I did tell him, Your Highness. When I saw him last, as you requested."

"Well! Tell him again, and after that, until he responds," I ordered. "Tell him I want a response."

"What more should he say beyond what he's already replied?" Elías shrugged. "He will come around in time."

"'I've received your message' is hardly a reply," I told him.

"You must learn to allow those around you to interpret their experiences," he said. "Willoughby needs time. There is a sacred bond between a Blade and his detail. You've injured that. To what extent, I do not know, but I do recognize that he is hurt. Allow him time to heal."

"But I'm sorry," I cried. "I miss him, and I wish he was here. If he were here, I could tell him that."

"I will share your sentiments," he said.

"Fine." I croaked. "As you must." I took a breath to bolster myself. "I suppose there's no use in putting it off any longer. Are you to escort me all night?" I asked.

"Aye," he said.

"Who's protecting my mother?"

"Ser Derek for the evening, though I suspect she should spend some time with your father, and he does just fine."

"Alright," I muttered. "Well, it will be rather boring for you, Eli. I don't intend to dance; I don't intend to talk, and I don't intend to enjoy myself."

"Such high goals," he joked. "We should do just grand."

At the entrance, my father and I greeted every gentleman and woman that arrived by our invitations. Some viscounts were there with their viscountesses and a number of the girls I'd known from town and over my upbringing. Lords and ladies, husbands and wives, friends, fiends, and the occasional known or self-declared poet. I welcomed every one of them the same, with a practiced smile and a set of hollow words.

"You humble me, my lord;" lady when it was appropriate. "Welcome to my celebration. May Fate help you find your perfect match or solidify the one you've made. There are refreshments near the orchestra. Please help yourself. You are a guest in my home."

When we had seen to the last of the attendees, Father turned and grinned. "An array of proper gentlemen, I'd say. Have any of them caught your eye?"

I wanted to give him the hope he'd asked me for by offering my best attempt at appeasing him, but "Perhaps," was all that I could say.

His face darkened when I tried to smile.

"What is it, Rosie?" he asked. "You haven't been the same since you got home."

"I am certain I am fine, Father. See?" I twirled my dress. "I've got a new frock even."

He watched the fabric spin. "Are you certain?"

"I am as sure as I have ever been," I said. "Please excuse me; I need to make my rounds."

When my part of the night was over, I nearly dragged my feet to bed. The soiree still sang into the hours, but by midnight I had asked Elías to see me out.

Upstairs I undressed, crawled into the sheets, and when the light had burned out on its own, Elías had gone, and all I could hear was the laughter of life everywhere else on the grounds. I wondered what the Duke was doing and if he was thinking of me or if he'd found companionship in his solitude, and I cried myself to sleep.