The artwork above is not mine.

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Nascha sat before the vanity in Fenrys' room at the palace, while Lysandra wrestled her long crimson locks into an elaborate updo. Evangeline perched on the edge of the bed, watching and calling out occasional suggestions. Fenrys was already downstairs helping Aelin and Rowan greet guests as they arrived. She hadn't seen him once since they left the cabin.

"Do any of the guests know who I really am?" Nascha asked. She winced as Lysandra stuck a pin through her tresses. Lysandra readjusted the pin until it sat comfortably.

"If Aelin told anyone who you were, I imagine she might have told Dorian," the Lady replied. "But I doubt anyone else will know. If someone asks who you are, use the false last name you went by in Arcelia. Do you still remember it?"

"Tierney, I believe."

Lysandra gave an approving nod and wove a sparkly black ribbon through her hair. She secured it with a diamond hair comb. The diamonds formed a pattern of vines and delicate blossoms, studded with tiny pink pearls in their centers. Lysandra clasped Nascha's new pendant around her neck and motioned for her to stand.

Nascha complied, smoothing out a few wrinkles in her skirt. "You look pretty," Evangeline said.

"Do I still look old?" Nascha laughed. Evangeline blushed and shook her head.

Nascha faced the mirror and for a moment, she hardly recognized herself. The main shape of the gown was made out of a wine red material. The neckline plunged down to her midriff, exposing her tanned skin and leaving her pendant on full display.

The neckline itself was shaped by black beads that formed vines similar to the ones in her hair comb. The beading trailed down the bodice in elaborate patterns, ending at the waist. From the top of the neckline, which barely clung to Nascha's shoulders, the beading continued down her long fitted sleeves, before ending at her wrists.

From the waist down, the gown hugged the curve of her hips. A slit traveled up the center of the skirt, flaunting her long legs. Two separate panels of inky black material were tucked into the waist of the gown on each side, before meeting in the back where large rubies held the material together to form a short train.

"Come on." Lysandra looped her arm through Nascha's. "Aelin promised there would be a few glasses of whiskey being passed around."

Nascha grinned and offered her hand to Evangeline. The young girl slid off the bed and took it. Together, the three of them left the bedroom and headed down the stairs. Nascha eyed the numerous guards who were positioned in the vast corridors.

    "They're new," she remarked. "Usually there's only a few guards in the palace."

    "Rowan insisted more guards be on duty tonight," Lysandra sighed. "Apparently the group who attacked that refugee village has picked up in activity again, coming closer to Orynth each time. While we don't think Rayan and Eliora are involved with them, it's better to be prepared. Aelin invited them tonight and we don't want to risk being caught off guard by an attack."

    Nascha shook her head, frowning. "Rayan and Eliora have always been true to their word. If they gave you six months, then you have six months. They won't break their agreement."

    "Still, I'd rather be safe than sorry."

    "Nascha!" A familiar voice hissed.

    Nascha glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Aeron. He was dressed in the Bane's official uniform. Lysandra paused as Nascha joined him. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

    "Aedion put a few of us on the guard detail tonight," he replied. "I was one of the lucky ones chosen." Aeron's gaze swept over her. "You look gorgeous."

    "Thank you."

    "Oh, and before I forget, the new recruits have already begun to arrive. My sister will be here in two days."

    "I can't wait to meet her."

    Aeron grinned, then tensed as he caught sight of someone behind her. "Commander Kyllian is coming. I'm not supposed to be talking on duty."

    Nascha gave him a parting smile and rejoined Lysandra and Evangeline before Kyllian caught sight of them. He bowed his head as they passed by. Nascha made sure he continued past Aeron before breathing a sigh of relief.

    "He's your friend from the Bane, right?" Lysandra asked. "Aedion mentioned you were getting along well with one of the Demi-Fae males."

    "Yes, that's him."

    "Aedion also mentioned Fenrys might have slept with him."

    "That is between them." Nascha knit her brows, shoving aside the feelings of jealousy that were swiftly rising. "Males here seem to gossip a lot."

    "More than us women," Lysandra laughed.

    Voices and music poured through the open doors of the ballroom up ahead. Nascha lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, falling into the posture her mother had taught her to carry herself with. They entered the ballroom and drifted down the marble staircase.

    Faces swirled all around. Some were familiar. Others weren't. Lorcan and Elide were already waltzing amongst several other couples. There was a dark haired Human dancing with a white haired Witch. Another couple spun by. Both had dark hair and bronze skin, although the man's was slightly darker than the woman's.

    Nascha recognized him as Sartaq, a Prince of the Khaganate and the Khagan's proclaimed heir. The woman dancing with him had to be Nesryn Faliq, his lover and suspected future wife. Nascha had only heard rumors about the pair during her time in the Southern Continent, and by the time they returned from the war, she had already left for Wendlyn.

    Standing off to one side was yet another couple. Nascha recognized them as well. The man with chestnut hair and copper brown eyes was Chaol Westfall. She'd seen him in the Southern Continent and heard many stories about him, but she was more familiar with his wife, Yrene Westfall. Nascha first met her at the Torre Cesme, while learning to use her healing magic.

    They got along well, although they didn't interact much beyond the self defense classes Yrene taught. After Chaol arrived and began to help with the lessons, Nascha stopped coming. She steered clear of the Adarlanian and Hafiza, the Healer on High, had asked the healers and acolytes to keep her presence a secret. To Nascha's knowledge, all had complied. Even Yrene.

    The young healer seemed to have spotted her. Nascha smiled as Yrene approached, bearing a small bundle in her arms. Chaol followed close behind. "Nascha! I didn't expect to see you here," Yrene said. "I thought you were still in the Southern Continent."

    "I found my way here somewhat unwillingly," Nascha replied. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to see you off when you left."

    "It's all right." She glanced over her shoulder, long brown hair curling around her neck. "This is my husband, Chaol. You might remember him."

    "I do."

    Chaol studied her, his expression giving away nothing. "I don't think we ever met."

    "We didn't," Nascha replied. Yrene gave her a questioning look and Nascha nodded.

    "Nascha was at the Torre when you arrived," Yrene explained. "She chose to keep out of sight when you were there because..." She frowned. "Well, Fae and Adarlanians didn't get along at the time."

    Chaol inclined his head. "That's understandable."

    Nascha returned his nod, feeling a flash of gratitude for how little of her story Yrene actually knew. By the time Nascha had arrived at the Torre Cesme, she'd already concocted several different stories about who she was and where she'd come from. When she spoke to the Healer on High and expressed hesitation about revealing her past however, she found the elderly woman to be understanding. All she had asked for was Nascha's first name, and no more questions followed.

    "This is our daughter," Yrene said, drawing Nascha out of her thoughts. She tilted the small bundle in her arms towards Nascha. "We named her Josefin, after my mother."

    "She's beautiful," Nascha replied. "Congratulations." Chaol rested a hand on Yrene's shoulder, smiling down at the infant.

    "Who is your friend, Chaol?" A new voice called. The dark haired man Nascha had seen earlier was now approaching them.

    Nascha took in the Human's sapphire blue eyes and the pale ring around his neck. At once, she recognized him from stories alone. Nascha bowed to Dorian Havilliard, the King of Adarlan.

    "This is Nascha," Chaol introduced her. "An old friend of Yrene's."

    Dorian took Nascha's hand and lightly kissed her knuckles. "You have very good taste in friends, if Yrene Westfall is among them." Nascha just smiled in response. The music faded around them as another dance prepared to begin. "May I have the honor?" Dorian asked.

    Wariness crept over her. Lysandra had warned that Dorian might know who she was. Nascha quickly searched for Lysandra, but there was no sign of the female. She spotted Evangeline dancing with Darrow close by and guessed Lysandra had been swept into a dance by Aedion or one of the other guests. Nascha brought her attention back to the King.

    "The honor is mine, your Majesty," she replied.

    "Just Dorian," he said, leading her out amongst the other couples. "I only go by Your Majesty when being addressed by people I don't like."

    "Do you and Aelin share notes on how to be a monarch?" Nascha laughed.

    "I probably shouldn't reveal all of our secrets, but truthfully, we send each other lists of Do's and Don'ts once a month." Nascha spun away from the King, before he drew her back again. "She mentioned you in a few of her more private letters," Dorian said, lowering his voice. "Nascha Makatza, home at last."

    Nascha stiffened. "What all has she said?"

    "That you're a very stubborn, hotheaded, and arrogant female who thrives on making things difficult for others. I honestly thought she was talking about herself before she mentioned your name." Dorian gave her a sly smirk, which she returned. "I do remember seeing you at least once, before..." He trailed off. After a moment, he shook his head and laughed. "You know, I remember my mother talking about a marriage alliance with your family once."

    Nascha raised her brows. "Really? That could have proven...interesting."

    "Rather." The dance came to an end. Dorian released her and gave a small bow, which she returned. When Nascha straightened, the white haired Witch was striding towards them. Dorian seemed to sense her approach. "Hello, Witchling," he said.

    "Princeling." The Witch's gold eyes passed over Nascha. Nascha held her gaze. This was yet another person she'd heard stories about. Manon Blackbeak-Crochan, High Queen of the Crochan and Ironteeth Witches. "Your blood smells ancient."

    "That's because it is."

    "As is mine." Manon grinned, baring her iron teeth. Nascha bared her own elongated canines.

    Dorian rolled his eyes, stepping into Manon's line of sight. "You're just as overbearing as you claim Abraxos to be. I wonder who he learned it from." He gave Nascha a parting smile as he led Manon away.

    "Fighting the Witch Queen is probably not a good way to blend in with the crowd," Vaughan said behind her.

    Nascha faced him and crossed her arms with a shrug. "She started it."

    "You invaded her territory."

    Nascha followed Vaughan's gaze back to Dorian and Manon. They were dancing together again, with Dorian's mouth close to her ear. There was a pleased smile on Manon's lips. Nascha didn't even want to imagine what they might be discussing.

    "He asked me to dance and I said yes," she explained.

    "Tell me you wouldn't feel possessive and jealous if Manon asked Fenrys to dance." Nascha clenched her jaw. "Exactly." Vaughan's lips tilted up in a smile. "Come on."

    "Where?"

    "Fenrys, Rowan, and Lorcan are insisting that I stay for at least an hour. You're the only non-drunk, unclaimed, and tolerable companion I've found so far, so I'd like to dance with you."

    "Give me a glass of whiskey and I'll fix that," Nascha laughed. Vaughan grunted in disgust as she took his hand. Soon, they were spinning across the polished floor.