ELLIOT KNOX WASN'T INVITED to the midsummer ball. But he lived in the palace where all the girls loved him, so he got in anyway. He donned a pinstripe suit — designer, of course — paid by Valencia, but she didn't know that yet. His dark hair was combed, slicked back, stylish. A blonde-haired girl wearing a silky black dress clung to his arm. Needy, she was.

Elliot thought she was the epitome of beauty. Rich. The daughter of a minister of something Elliot didn't care about. She had sparkly blue eyes and glossy lips and high cheekbones that reminded him of Astoria. She smelled like strawberries and a little bit of Elliot's cologne.

"Celine," her name rolled off Elliot's tongue. "Let's get some drinks."

He thought her name was funny, like something Caspian would name his pet tiger if he had one.

At the bar, Celine ordered herself a cocktail and whiskey for Elliot, which yes, was his drink of choice. He liked that she knew him. Or thought that she did.

It looked like practically everyone of importance In Lehua made it to the midsummer ball. The banquet hall felt like it couldn't contain another person. The room buzzed with energy. Friends met each other after ages. They chatted, caught-up.

Elliot saw Valencia run around meeting new people. He scrunched his face up at the sight of her smile. Her choice of charity, Feeding Lehua, was nice. Too Cyra Stone, though — the former empress was the first to ever make the midsummer ball a charity event. Valencia made a pathetic second.

Celine's fingers moved up his arm. She whispered, "Let's go somewhere quiet."

Smirking, Elliot finished his drink, held Celine's hand and guided her upstairs. In some hallway on an upper level of the palace, the pair walked along excitedly, as if already drunk. Elliot held her close, looked into her ocean-blue eyes, lustful. Then, he stared at her glossy lips, full and pink and perfect. He wanted those lips all over him.

She practically begged him to take her right there in that hallway. With her mouth parted open, Elliot leaned forward and kissed her. It was fast-paced: they were hungry for each other, tongues demanding, kiss deepening.

Elliot pushed Celine against the wall. His hand gripped her right leg, hiking up her silk dress. He pulled her up and she wrapped her legs around him. Celine's lips were sticky from the gloss, cherry flavored from her drink, and so pleasantly soft.

Elliot brought her into an empty room, laid her on the bed, took off his heavy suit. He was warm, she was hotter, it was meant to be. She slipped off her dress, daring him not to touch. He couldn't resist.

Not like they hadn't been here before.

Satisfied (could he be satisfied without reprisal?), Elliot left Celine alone to get dressed, as per her wish. He wandered the hallways, admiring the paintings and the antique vases full of flowers Valencia ordered from who knows what country.

As he turned a corner, Elliot heard footsteps. At the end of the hallway stood a women he could never forget: Valencia Lenard, staring at herself in a mirror, her chest slightly exposed. He quickly moved away.

What was she doing?

He peeked around the corner and saw her touching her chest. Elliot furrowed his eyebrows. He figured there had to be something on her. But what? Valencia began fixing herself; it was Elliot's cue to leave. He went back the way he came, wondering how to find out what was on Valencia's chest.

Celine, all dolled up again, sat on the bed, smiling, mannequin-like. "I'd offer you a second round, but..."

Elliot laughed, a real laugh he could feel in his belly. He thought about it too, going again, but there was food downstairs calling his name. And he didn't want her to fall for him because it was bad for business. He had another woman, Valencia, whom he needed to get close to.

"Why don't we go down? Grab a drink and some food."

She smiled lazily, standing up.

A sweetheart, Elliot thought.

He was sure Valencia made it downstairs by now. He still couldn't understand what she was doing touching her chest like that. He wasn't sure how to even figure it out. It's not like Elliot could just say to her, 'Hey, I saw you feeling your chest up. I kind of need to know what exactly was going on.'

Celine and Elliot made it back to the banquet hall in time for the first course. Elliot had to fight with Ronan to get him a seat since he was never invited. Ronan — Elliot knew the advisor disliked him — hesitantly gave him one at Celine's table.

The food tasted fine. Elliot forcfully gave money to Valencia's charity of choice. Celine's warm hand never left his knee. It was boring. Simple. He was waiting.

Celine's parents forced her and her sister to go with them to meet some family friends. Elliot stayed back, sipped some whiskey, and watched satisfied people mill around. He ate a second round of dessert: leftover crème brûlée, each bite cool and sweet. It went down slowly, forcefully.

"Stuffed?" an unknown female voice asked.

Elliot briskly turned around in his chair and saw a women far more gorgeous than Celine and Valencia combined. She was breathtaking; he had never seen brown eyes as nice as her's. They shined. Dreamy. Her brown skin glowed, her straight, ebony hair reached her elbows, and her lips were as pink as the roses on the table.

Her cream and gold blouse and matching skirt were simple. A sheer, gold material that resembled a scarf was draped around her shoulders and head. Her gold jewelry glimmered under the colorful lights of the banquet hall. A nose ring, bangles and head piece adorned her. She was obviously from the Redlands.

"Yeah," Elliot chuckled, gesticulating for the mysterious woman to sit. "I'm Elliot. Elliot Knox."

She took Celine's seat.

"Reyna Kapoor," she said and stuck her hand out.

He shook her hand, but felt the need to bow. "Your Highness, it's a pleasure—"

"Oh," she laughed. "Right, you too."

He felt stupid to not recognize the queen of the Redlands. Everyone knew her name and her fame.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"I don't drink," she replied.

Stupid, he thought. She still smiled at him, but he could see the sorriness in her eyes.

"You remind me of Cyra," Reyna commented, pointing at Elliot's eyes.

Elliot had never heard that before. Cyra, Caspian and Elliot all had the same grey eyes.

"Something you don't notice," Elliot shrugged.

Elliot saw Ronan and Valencia walking towards him and the queen. Valencia's cocoa-brown hair framed her smiling face. He wasn't sure if Reyna could tell the smile was fake.

"What a great choice of charity," Reyna complimented after introductions were made.

"Thank you," Valencia said, "I'm very proud of what we've accomplished tonight. This money is going to help so many people."

Valencia truly seemed delighted at this success. She cared about feeding her people. So what could be wrong with her?

Just then, one of Valencia's advisors come up to her. Dressed in a suit, the woman fidgeted around. She looked everywhere but at Valencia. The advisor whispered something to the empress.

"I can't hear you," Valencia finally said, "Just spit it out."

The woman's brown eyes looked between Valencia and Ronan. "There was a - a explosion at the lake villages twenty minutes ago. It's being in-investigated. I'm going to keep you informed as we learn more, Your Imperial Majesty."

Elliot waited for Valencia's reaction. Her face was blank. She looked at Ronan.

"Let's go to the lake villages."