"You can't actually think this is a good idea, right?"

Again, I keep my mouth closed. It's not like Morven will even respond. He's too busy pacing the dressing room, ranting, and making a huge mess. A colorful assortment of ribbons and lace decorates the floor. Holographic powders stain the polished marble tiles and the makeup shelves. Even the jewelry box Grandma brought in for me has been flipped over, spilling every crystal and strand of gold across the floor. For Taquib's sake, he's not even helping me get ready. He's doing the exact opposite of what he's been hired to do.

I can see him pacing behind me. He's messing with a silver necklace loosely dangling from his neck. The red crystal practically glows in the streams of sunset coming through the open balcony doors. I wasn't expecting him to dress up fancy, either. He's wearing that pair of deep purple harem pants that's been sitting in his closet for years, with a matching deep neckline top. What the top doesn't cover is blanketed with crimson red voile and lantern sleeves.

"I mean, you're willingly going to meet a guy and marry him. You. Man. Marry. It doesn't work. It just doesn't."

I once again try pulling up the ribbons holding up my waterfall skirt. But the moment I reach to pull them behind my neck, Kavas is yet again on my shoulder. She lets out an angry squawk before stabbing her beak into my hand.

I want to hit her. She's been acting up like this all day, doing practically anything to delay me. Tugging at my flaxen yellow hair, getting her iridescent red feathers everywhere in my path, and even going to the lengths of destroying everything.

Taquib, meanwhile, has been avoiding me.

I try swatting at Kavas to get her off my shoulder, but she curls up and ruffles her feathers at me.

"Kavas, get off me. Now." I snap while reaching my hands to pick her up. But she looks like she's going to go for the ribbon, and I can't let her destroy another formal outfit. She's gone through three already.

"You should really tell your parents that you want to marry a woman." Morven slides in front of the mirror and blocks my reflection. "You need to be happy. Not sad. Like, really happy. Not some other-worlder man who just wants to shove his—"

An awkward laugh escapes my lips. "Okay, Morven, that's enough."

"But it's not..." He whines, taking his hands in mine. "Men are stupid and you don't need one in your life. Do you just want me to tell your parents? Because I can certainly do that."

Kavas lets out a chirp of agreement.

"Your fiance is a man. And you are." I finally have the chance to move Kavas and put her on Morven's shoulder. "And I don't need you to say anything. The only reason you know is that you somehow know of my affair."

"Would your past with Vanila even be considered an affair?" He starts dusting Kavas's feathers out of my hair. "I mean, it was a solid relationship."

That gets a sarcastic chuckle out of me. "Really? Because from what I remember it went sour pretty quickly." I flip my hair over my shoulders, giving myself a good look in the mirror once I push Morven aside.

Kavas really overdid it this time, but at least the outfit isn't destroyed. It's all in one piece. The thin layer of white chiffon still covers my torso and arms. The tiny iridescent white crystals laced into it remain, and so far there's not a single scratch in the ribbon. Even the plain white deep-neckline leotard remains in one piece.

"Okay, yes, fair point, but the important part is you. Like. WOMEN. Okay?" He grabs my exposed shoulders and squeezes. "That's the gist. You need to call this off."

As soon I'm about to make another remark telling him it's a bit too late to cancel the ball, the doors to the dressing chamber slams open with a thud. Even Kavas cranks her head to the side in shock as Mom storms through the room. Her facial expression melts from worry to relief when she sees me.

"Azalea! Where have you been? Why aren't you ready? And why is that stupid katawing here?" She swats Kavas away from Morven and me, making Kavas unhappily perch herself on the balcony railing. Mom's golden eyes pierce mine.

I realize what she's wearing; a black leotard with ribbons holding it together in the back, and a black waterfall skirt tied with a huge bow in the back. The crystals lacing her black lace-up gloves and the inside of the skirt sparkle and shimmer like all the colors of a nebula. It's as if the goddesses themselves blessed her outfit. But to be fair, she treats it as such. The only time she's worn that outfit was for three events: her wedding day, Mako's funeral, and Marsious's funeral.

It makes me realize how much this means to her. How desperate she is to watch me marry. Even though I've prayed for her not to make a big deal of this— for everyone in my family not to make a huge deal of this— I don't think I was heard.

Watching her look around the room in disturbance, she sighs heavily. "This. This is why I didn't want to get you these stupid birds." She pushes Morven away from the mirror and turns me around. "I mean, when I said you shouldn't have katawings of all things, I meant it. They're mischievous and troublesome and the last time I got involved with one..." She takes the ribbon from my hand and brings both ends around my neck. "Your father almost gets his eye stabbed out. But no, he thought you were responsible enough to handle them. And two, nonetheless!"

She stops talking to look over my shoulder into the mirror. It makes me realize how much I look like her. Same dull-yellow long hair, same vivid cerulean skin, even our silver markings covering our body look identical. Except, her skin is more distraught. Shredded. Scarred. Her eyebrow has a huge cut in it, a few slash-like scars adorn her throat, and a claw-shaped scar embellished into her shoulder. Although it's not in the mirror, I know it extends around to her back. It's not covered up with the leotard, it's too massive to be hidden like that.

Her hands run along my shoulders, down to my elbows. Pride dances in her eyes. But it doesn't stay there long. She turns to Morven.

"Morven, I love you to death, but can you please be useful and actually fix the rest of her?" She struts off towards the balcony, black heels clicking on the tile. "The mess can be fixed later. The ball has already started and I've had eight suitors approach me already asking where my daughter is."

Before he gets to work, he watches Mom attempt to remove Kavas from the room. It's entertaining, to say the least. Kavas keeps squawking with rage at her, and Mom attempts to squawk back. Kavas's feathers still linger through the room when the doors shut behind them.

It's silent. Morven isn't saying a word. It takes me walking a few centimeters away from the mirror for him to move. But he's somewhat panicked, almost knocking me to the ground when he tries to push me back. He forces me to look back at the long golden-framed mirror before rushing over to the makeup shelf.

As he clambers around with brushes and palettes, he keeps talking. "And all of those suitors will be male, no doubt."

"Morven." I can't hold back a sigh. "You're making this into a bigger deal than it has to be."

"I am not!" He scoffs at me. An uncommon thing for him to do. He's extremely bitter about this. "I just want you to be happy with your future wife, but you're making it harder on yourself by staying in denial." He waltzed back over to me, setting a few thin brushes and small jars on the table next to the mirror.

"I'm not in denial."

He pulls my hair out from behind my ear and picks up a hairbrush. First, he runs his fingers through it as if it's made of silk. Then he gently combs the brush through my long hair, treating each strand like a delicacy. "Then why haven't you told your parents yet?"

I don't respond to that. I mean, how am I supposed to respond? I've learned talking about our love-lives to the family can either destroy the calm dinner or break you from the inside. Dad never told his parents about Mom until the week they were to be wedded. Mako never talked about his love, or about anything really. And Marsious? Where to begin with him. His forbidden love almost destroyed the family. Mom was pissed, Dad didn't even know how to talk to him, and my grandparents started neglecting him.

No one in the royal bloodline has had a same-sex attraction for years. It feels so common in everyday life, seeing men walk down the streets holding hands, hearing about two women being blessed with a child, and watching higher-up courtiers with their spouses at galas. But even within the non-royal part of the family, like from Mom's side, there hasn't been anyone like that. I certainly don't want to be the first. It feels like everyone's expectations of me would be held up so much higher and more questions would be asked. And I don't want to deal with that. I don't even want to deal with the fact that I've never even felt what others have. I've never understood what Mom and Dad get out of gentle kisses, or what Morven feels when Arroyo surprises him with crystal jewelry, or what even my grandparents get from staying together.

Morven finally finishes up the small braid extending from my hairline, tying it off with a crystalized band. His arms wrap around my torso, chin resting on my shoulder. "You know, if you don't say anything, you'll be married to a guy you'll never love for the rest of your life. And you'll be unhappy and start feeling overwhelmed and depressed and..." His voice trails off. Not that I need him to finish the sentence, anyway.

I don't like seeing him so upset. He's always happy and upbeat, never have I seen him shed a tear in his life. But on the one occasion I have, it was when we were still little when we weren't even teenagers yet. He only cried because he thought Arroyo didn't love him and thought they were never going to be together like Morven had been dreaming of for oh so many years.

I wrap my arms over his arms, swallowing the lump in my throat. "You know, it doesn't exactly have to be one of the suitors, right? As long as it's someone who attended the gala, it could still work. And If I requested for it, my parents would allow her to join the competition."

His head snaps up, and a small smile glues to his face. "But you'll do it right?"

"Yeah." A smile makes its way to my face, as well, "Yeah, I'll look around."

It gets him in a better mood. Instead of trying to talk me out of it like he was earlier, he's rushing to get himself together. He's painting glimmering holographic silver alcramite powder into my markings, mixing rose gold driftrade petals into scented liquids to create a perfume for me, and using iridescent white pigment to "bring out my eyes" as he claimed.

I don't think I've seen Morven more proud of himself as he walks away to let me take in the reflection. When I turn back to him, he's got the biggest grin on his face. It doesn't take him long to try to rush me out the door.