Two hours after returning, there was a knock at the Truso's front door. When one of the maids opened it, a herald from the palace stepped inside, a manservant toting a large box behind him.

"A gown for the savior of the king and queen," the man said, stretching an arm out toward the box. "The color was chosen to denote your deed. Her majesty requests that, upon arrival, you greet her at her table - she'll be waiting."

With a flourish, the manservant dropped the box into the maid's arms while the herald turned on his heel and marched out the door. Phoenix stood wide-eyed off to the side until Abigail poked her.

"Open it."

"I'm afraid to." Phoenix moved to the round little table in the entry hall where the maid had placed the box, plucking up the vase that sat there and moving it away. "What does that mean - color to match the deed?"

"Does it matter? Ooooopen it." Abigail bounced on her heels, her hands clasped before her. "I love seeing a new dress. Ballgowns are my favorite. I wonder if it's in this year's fashion? And how'd they know your measurements? Did you give them those?"

"I guessed at them, yes. I think I might have grown an inch or two in the last year, so I wasn't sure on my height." Phoenix let out a breath and tugged at the tie holding the box closed. "Here we go."

She pulled the box lid up and away, handing it to the maid still standing nearby.  She let out a cluck of surprise at the sight of the fabric inside.

Billowing layers of white silk and chiffon puffed up and out of the box. Phoenix pulled it free, marveling at it. "I've never seen anything likes this."

"It's beautiful," Abigail breathed, standing beside her. "I love the accents."

Phoenix nodded in agreement. Blue accents were embroidered around the bodice, which moved into a V shape at the waist before flowing out in a wide skirt Phoenix was sure she could hide half the house under. The top of the bodice continued its blue lacework, creating a heart shaped bosom with a cinched waist. 

Now that she looked closely, Phoenix saw the underskirts were also blue, creating a faded affect that almost made it look as though the dress dipped into water. The high lace neck and long sleeves would cover her markings well enough to ease her worries about being recognized as a Guardian. 

"This is beautiful," Abigail crooned. "I think we'll look lovely side by side. Mine's in a similar fashion, only it's a deep violet. Come - we must ready at once. We only have a few hours to prepare."

"You shouldn't go."

The voice stopped them both halfway up the steps. Phoenix turned to see a figure with a face covered in light. For a moment, she thought Castor had returned, but the different voice gave her the answer.

"Altair?" She frowned at Abigail. "Why shouldn't I go?" 

"It's not safe."

Phoenix rolled her eyes. "If that's all you have for me, I'll take my chances."

"There are things in the works that you'll only get in the way of."

"Things." Phoenix flipped her hair back over her shoulder. "If you're going to be cryptic, I don't have time for you. Besides, Castor said to be seen."

Altair shook his head. "This isn't what Castor meant." 

"How would you know?" She waited for an answer, and when he didn't give one, she snorted. "Right. Well unless you feel like being clear with me, I'll see you another time. Buh bye." 

With that she turned and hurried Abigail up the steps to get ready.

While Abigail's maids - happy to have their mistress returned - helped the two girls with their hair, Phoenix learned about cosmetics and how to accent her already drastic features. 

"Perhaps no rouge for her," Abigail said with a grin. "Her cheekbones are defined enough. Someone might cut themselves." 

"Ha, ha." Phoenix stared down at the letter in her hands. "I don't think I can open it."

"Why not?" Abigail glanced over. "You said Harold is now in the dungeons of the palace - maybe you should see what's inside. Are you sure you can even trust Gwen?"

"It's still personal," Phoenix said, flipping the letter in her hand. "If I give it to him and the seal is broken he'll--"

"Does it matter? He just tried to kill Eric and his family. Castor warned you Harold was going to try something - you're sure it's him?"

"I don't know. He was pretty young and - maybe I should just wait until I can get down there and ask him if this is for him. After all, if he isn't Harold, then I shouldn't open this letter."

"Whatever you say, oh wise one." Abigail sucked in her cheeks for her rouge to be applied. 

#

Phoenix stared up at the palace - so similar and yet so different from the Militia castle they'd once used as a summer home. Her stomach flipped as Abigail nudged her forward. They'd arrived with Abigail's parents in one of their carriages, and Phoenix couldn't have felt more like a fraud if she'd tried.

The gown was, by far, the nicest thing she'd ever owned, and she couldn't help but stare when she'd first seen herself in the mirror. The porcelain and sapphire fabrics melded together like a watercolor painting, and the body gave shape to the figure she'd never realized she had. 

The dress didn't exaggerate her height, but worked with it, making her seem elegant and swanlike, with a long neck accentuated by her hair twisted into a chignon on her head. The charcoal around her eyes emphasized their emerald color, while the dark rose of her lips created an almost permanent smirk.  With her markings covered, she felt average - normal - like she could be anybody. For a moment, she felt freedom swell within her. 

But she didn't deserve it.

She hadn't saved them - if anything, Eric could have handled it himself. But she couldn't help herself from intervening, just for the chance to face him again. Altair's warning sat ill in her stomach now that she'd arrived, but she pushed it aside.

Castor said to be seen. 

"Are you ready?" Abigail asked, her face a breathtaking image with her hair piled on her head and her lips and cheeks pinkened. 

"I suppose it's now or never," Phoenix said, linking her arm through Abigail's. 

They entered with many others, Phoenix staring all around at the onyx splendor of the entry hall.  There was a queue as they waited to be announced, and Phoenix waited with Abigail, her heart hammering. 

Abigail turned away from her, getting up on her tiptoes to see over a few heads."I wonder if they have - "

Phoenix didn't hear the end of the sentence. Someone grabbed her from behind and whisked her down a dark hallway so fast she didn't have a chance to react before her back was to a wall.

"What are you doing here?" The voice, tinged with nervousness and fear, belonged to the last person she'd expected to drag her away.

"Samson?" She blinked, taking in his shadowed appearance. Light from the entry hall revealed half of him, the other half obscured by shadow.  He kept her pinned in place with one hand against the wall on either side of her, and though she could duck under his arms, she didn't want to.

"You're not safe here. You need to go." Samson glanced back toward the entrance, and for a moment his whole face bathed in light.

Phoenix sucked in a breath, taking in the subtle changes since they'd last met. He'd filled out more. While his body was still lean, his shoulders had broadened, and his jaw seemed sharper, stronger than before. She resisted the urge to reach out and brush her fingers against it.

"I have to be here," she said, reigning in her emotions. "Narissa insisted after I saved her life."

Samson let out a quiet groan, dropping his head. The tight curls he kept cut so short were longer than normal, the ashy brown color glinting with hints of gold in the light. 

"That was you? It doesn't matter. You need to leave - leave the city."

"I can't." Phoenix struggled with finding deep breaths with him so close. They'd only been so near twice before - when he held her against him with a knife to her throat in the Pass, and once before that, though she doubted he'd remember.

"Why not?"

"Castor told me to be seen. I have to be here!"

"Castor?" Samson blinked, his brows furrowing as his nose scrunched in frustration. "Who the stars is Castor?"

"Exactly." Phoenix nodded. When Samson's gaze narrowed, she rolled her eyes. "He's Eric's Watcher. He told me I needed to be seen."

"Did he tell you to walk into the lion's den and offer yourself up to the devil herself?"

"I can handle Narissa."

Samson angled his face to the side, his gaze still fixed on hers. "I'm not talking about Narissa."

A shiver ran through Phoenix at the gravity in his tone. "You mean Aundreya." She lifted her chin and arched a brow. "I'm not afraid of her."

"You should be. If she finds out you're here, she'll -"

"Not if she can't recognize me." Phoenix gestured to her face with a gloved hand.

"She never saw you in this...form?"

Phoenix hesitated, breaking eye contact. "Well...no, she did." Samson opened his mouth, but Phoenix cut him off. "But without my markings - and it's been at least a year - there's no way she'll remember. I'll just be any other woman. Not the mousy little nobody I was before."

Samson's head jerked back. "You've never been a mousy little nobody."

Phoenix's retort died on her lips at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Someone's coming." Her breath hitched as she recognized an all too familiar signature stepping into the hall.

Before she could react, Samson shifted his whole body closer to hers, blocking her from view, and lunged - his mouth colliding with hers. Phoenix's head smacked against the wall, but she hardly noticed. It was over as quickly as it had begun.

"Steele?" Aundreya's voice echoed in the hallway, her surprise almost as great as Phoenix's.

Samson spun around, still hiding Phoenix from Aundreya's curios eyes. Sensing his tension, Phoenix did her best to make herself smaller, pressing against him so she wouldn't be seen. Aundreya recovered from her shock, and Phoenix could hear the sneer of mocking in her voice.

"Well, I am shocked. I had no idea you were so inclined." 

"What do you mean?" Samson returned to his usual, unfazed demeanor. 

"I always assumed you were in love with Eric." Aundreya's laugh cut against Phoenix's nerves, but she remained quiet, holding on to the back of Samson's frock coat. "No matter, I've been looking for you. You don't need to bother Eric tonight."

"I don't bother the Commander. I protect him."

"Well then, you don't need to protect him. In fact, you don't want to. You're very angry with him, you know, for turning you away today."

Phoenix gritted her teeth, holding back the cry of pain as Aundreya's onslaught of lies hit her. She gripped Samson's jacket tighter, pressing her forehead against the spot in between his shoulderblades.

"I'm angry at him," Samson repeated - when he said it, it wasn't a lie, Aundreya's power working in him.

"Yes, you are. Besides, you want to spend the night with your lady friend there. She's so much more interesting. You know Eric can take care of himself. Now promise me you'll stay away."

"I'll stay away," Samson said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Exactly." Phoenix could hear Aundreya's smirk. "Enjoy your night, Steele." 

She disappeared, and Samson turned to face Phoenix, his eyes glazed. "I think I'll spend my night with you. I'm -"

"Not angry with Eric. You're not mad at him at all - in fact, all you've ever wanted to do is protect him. Aundreya's lying to you, Samson. You know that."

Samson blinked and shook his head. "I know that?"

"You do. Your whole purpose is to protect Eric while he protects the country, remember? I bet he didn't even send you away."

Samson's whole face scrunched and he scrubbed it with his hands. "Argh! I hate that wretched girl!" He ran his hands up into his hair, resting them atop his head. "There's no way to stand against her. Only you and Eric seem immune."

"Eric's immune?" Phoenix's heart swelled, only to plummet back down into darkness. "Then why is he marrying her?  Why would he ever want to be with someone so horrible as -"

"He doesn't. At least, I don't think he does." Samson shook his head again as though trying to get water out of his ears. "He has a reason. I don't remember. I know he keeps telling me, but she - Phoenix?"

Phoenix leaned back against the wall, fighting tears of joy. "He doesn't love her?"

Samson's face darkened. "No, he doesn't. But - but I should tell you that there's someone else. Her name is Abigail."

"I know. I'm staying with her family." Phoenix pressed her hand against her hear. "She's going to be so happy to hear this."

Samson cocked his head to the side. "You're not - I mean...I guess I always thought...you're not in love with Eric?"

"Oh I love him," Phoenix said, nodding. "But not like that."

"Oh." Samson looked away. "I'm sorry about before - about kissing you. It was the first thing that popped into my head that I thought would look more innocent than the conversation we were having - especially since it was about Aundreya."

Phoenix snorted. "It's not exactly how I thought my first kiss would go, but not much of my life has gone how I thought it would."

Eyes widening, Samson stared at her. "That was your first kiss?"

Feeling the blush rise in her cheeks, Phoenix shrugged it off. "I grew up with Aundreya - she didn't exactly let boys anywhere near me. Besides - you remember what I used to look like. Not the most enticing."

For an agonizing moment that seemed to go on forever, Samson squinted at her, as though trying to work something out in his head. Finally, he nodded.

"I can fix this."

He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her chin up. It wasn't abrupt or jolting - and this time she didn't hit her head. Gentle, the faintest brush at first, he kissed her, but he didn't stop there. Three soft, little kisses, warmed her up before the fourth, where he remained connected to her, his lips moving against hers.

Boiling heat, like fire, welled up inside of her, stretching down to her fingertips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, surprised she knew what to do. Somewhere in the back of her mind she sensed pain mingled with the pleasure - as though she was burning from the inside.  Her breath caught as she felt his tongue brush her lips, and the fire seared hotter, forcing her to pull away.

She bit back a cry, but Samson didn't seem to notice, not meeting her eyes as he pressed his forehead against hers. 

"I hope the second kiss makes up for the first," he whispered. Then he seemed to snap back into himself, and he straightened, backing away from her. "I need to find Eric."

He disappeared, but Phoenix couldn't move, leaning against the wall for support. A few moments after he left, Abigail stepped into the hallway and spotted her.

"Phoenix! Samson said you were down here. Where have you been? I've been worried -" She stopped at the sight of her. "What's wrong?"

Phoenix gripped her abdomen, fighting to find breath. "I don't know - I - " she stopped, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth against the pain. The faintest jolt of familiarity hit her, and her eyes snapped open.

"I think something's wrong with Maverick."

WHAT?
ALL THE WHAT WHAT WHAT?

Phoenix got her first AND second kiss - what say you, Castix fans? And Nixon fans REJOICE! Samson draws first blood!

Also apparently kissing Samson is painful...unless Phoenix's Guardian-abilities are accurately pointing her to the true cause, and she's sensing what we know happened to Mav last chapter. Vote: Who says it's Samson and who says it's her gifts?

Also - Aundreya is awful, Eric has yet to be seen, and SAMSON KISSED PHOENIX.

Finally, the dress at the top was the one that inspired Phoenix's dress (only in white with blue undertones, not blue with black) and the dress below is Abigail's. Enjoy!