With a little cry, Phoenix fell sideways to the ground. Abigail dropped down to her knees, panic in her eyes.

"What's happening? What is it?"

"I don't know - I just feel something is wrong. But the pain - erg." She doubled over, grunting as it hit her in another wave. "I have to find out what's happened." She looked around wildly, but the hall remained empty. "Castor - Finny. Please, someone! Altair?"

A beam of light appeared in the hallway, and a figure dropped down to Phoenix's side. She felt strong arms grip her, lifting her up into his arms.

"Phoenix? What is it? What did he do to you?" Altair's voice boomed, reverberating inside her. She clutched his tunic, resting her head against his shoulder, thankful he'd come despite her earlier attitude.

"Maverick - is something wrong with Maverick?"

She sensed his bewilderment. "He's going to be fine - what's happened to you?"

Phoenix gritted her teeth as the pain pulsed again. It wasn't as bad as before, but she wasn't sure she could stand on her own.

"I - I felt pain. Horrible pain. And my thoughts were filled with Maverick. What happened to him?"

"From what I heard he was poisoned days ago - Finny went straight to him, and the others were there to help. He's going to be fine. Youlden managed to purge the poison from him."

"I don't understand. If he's fine now, why am I feeling his pain?"

Altair made a strange noise in the back of his throat. "That isn't how it works. You don't feel his pain."

"But I'm his Guardian."

Altair gently lifted her to her feet, still supporting her. "As a Guardian, you might sense his need for you, but you aren't connected to him like that. And if you were, you would have felt pain over an hour ago when this happened. I'm not sure why you just sensed his need now, but the pain is your own, not his. What were you doing when it happened?"

"Kissing Samson."

Altair tensed. "You what?" His anger flared. "What did he do to you? How'd he do it? What games is he playing?"

"Games? There aren't - he's not playing games." Phoenix blinked up at him, wishing she could see beyond the light.

"When Castor hears about this, he'll be unbearable." Altair seemed to have forgotten about her for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. "If he finds out Samson caused you pain...no. He can't know." He returned his attention to her. "Don't tell Castor what happened between you and Samson."

"Why not?"

Altair hesitated. "You won't like the outcome. Keep your distance from Samson. If he's hurting you -"

"He wouldn't hurt me." Phoenix's thoughts flashed back to the dagger against her throat. "Not - not on purpose."

"Even if it wasn't intentional, he's hurt you. Stay away from him."

"Phoenix," Abigail stepped forward, glancing fearfully up at Altair. "We-we should go. We can say you're sick. They won't make you go in if you're sick. Narissa can't hold it against you."

"I'm feeling better." Phoenix pushed away from Altair to stand on her own. "Besides, Castor said to be seen."

Altair made a hmphing noise. "I doubt this is what he meant. He would never put you in danger unnecessarily. He's brash, and a bit impulsive, but unless it was a choice between your life and Eric's, he'd never put you in harm's way."

"Unless it was between my life and Eric's?" Phoenix asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means Castor and I serve a purpose. If you and Eric were both in danger, I would save you before even thinking about Eric. Castor would do the same, but in Eric's favor."

"And Finny would do it for Maverick?"

Altair's head bobbled from side to side. "Maybe. Most Watchers don't interfere. Castor and I were given special instructions for the two of you. We're mostly just Watchers, but once in awhile - if it came to it - we could be a sort of 'Guardian' on your behalf."

"Where were you when we were under attack in the blizzard?" Phoenix asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Keeping an eye on you. If you'd needed me, I could have come and been at your side." She heard his smirk. "You had it under control."

"So unless me walking into that ballroom will somehow save Eric's life, Castor has no reason for me to go in there? Then what was his message about being seen?"

"You were seen. You saved Eric's life today, from what I saw. You kept that boy, Herald, from slicing him or the queen or king through."

"So it is Gwen's brother!" Phoenix's brows shot up. "In that case, we're going in." She allowed Abigail to loop under her arm for a bit of support. "I need to talk to him."

With a heavy sigh, Altair deflated. "I'll be watching. Please be safe - I don't want anything to happen to you."

Phoenix softened. "I will. I'm sorry about earlier." She thought of the searing pain, but even more about the tenderness of Samson's lips. "Maybe I really should have listened to you. Thank you for coming when I called."

"Unless I am unable, I will always come when you call." Altair patted her on the shoulder. "Be safe."

"Are you ready?" Abigail asked. Phoenix nodded, and the two of them stepped out of the side hallway and back into the entry hall. It now stood nearly empty, with a few late arrivals filtering in. When they reached the herald at the large double doors, he sniffed dismissively at their tardiness.

"Names?" He didn't even look at them, still facing the room at large.

"This is Phoenix, the girl who saved the king and queen today," Abigail said, pushing her forward. The herald's eyes bugged and he spluttered his apologies for his rudeness. In his distraction, Abigail slipped away, disappearing into the crowd before she could be announced.

Phoenix understood. She wasn't sure if Narissa even knew Abigail was still alive. The herald cleared his throat and announced her. His voice had a gift for being heard, as he didn't have to shout or bellow, but his words carried throughout the room.

"Announcing our guest of honor, Miss Phoenix - Today's savior of the parade."

Phoenix's nose scrunched at the odd title, but she straightened her shoulders and stepped into the room. All eyes were on her, and once again she felt grateful that her markings were covered. Someone at the far end of the room - from the head table - stood and walked out toward her.

Eric.

Taking in his clothing, she almost laughed. While she stood in white and blue, Eric wore a suit of the inkiest black, the accents in a deep, rich red. They contrasted with his light skin and hair just as well as her dress did against her darker pallor.

Mirrors of each other.

She met his gaze, and though he kept his face impassive, the link between them formed, including her on his inner turmoil.

You shouldn't be here.

I didn't have a choice! She arched a brow, and he rolled his eyes.

There's always a choice. Eric dipped into a shallow bow and Phoenix curtsied the way Abigail had taught her was proper for her superiors.

"Miss Phoenix," Eric said, offering her his arm. "I will escort you to the table."

"Thank you, your -" she couldn't finish the sentence, her mouth stalling on the word highness. "Sir?"

Eric's lips twitched, but he kept the smile from forming. "I take it you know as much as I do."

"I know more."

It was his turn to arch a brow, and his expression twisted into a grimace. "You shouldn't be here. If they find out what you are - "

"Which is exactly what you are," she retorted.

"It doesn't matter. I have an established place here. You sympathize with the Militia - they aren't exactly fond of your type."

"My type," Phoenix repeated, shaking her head. "I think you'll find you and I are more alike than ever before." She looked him up and down. "Even when we've never looked so different."

"Phoenix, please." Eric's lips barely moved as they neared the table. "Don't let your mouth get you into trouble tonight." They reached the king and queen before Phoenix could reply. "Mother, Father, may I present Miss Phoenix Abernathy."

Phoenix automatically flinched at his lies - both from the snap of pain it caused her and the surprise that he managed it so easily. Perhaps they weren't too alike. Though, out the corner of her eye, she saw the faintest shiver go through him.

"Ah, Phoenix." King Bainon stood, taking her hand and kissing her glove. "We couldn't be more pleased to have you here."

They sat her at the end of the table next to an older woman with a prominent chin and heavily lidded eyes. She flashed a warm smile as Eric pulled out her chair. He gave her one last warning look before disappearing back to his seat with Aundreya.

"Phoenix, is it?" The woman dipped her head. "I'm Lady Arabella Telder. It's a pleasure."

Staring at her straight on, Phoenix couldn't help but sense a strange familiarity. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

Lady Arabella arched a brow, her wrinkled lips pursing into a smile. "I think I would remember someone like you." She reached up and brushed a stray strand of grey hair back into her bun. "But I have one of those faces." She cocked her head to the side, considering Phoenix. "It's my nose. The whole family has it."

Phoenix squinted to focus on the nose, and her stomach flipped. Mouth popping open, she gaped. "You're - you're a Knight."

Arabella beamed. "Yes. Yes I am."

Surprise! Phoenix just met one of Maverick's relations! Did you know there were any still in Osha? Just wait until you hear Lady Arabella's story - it might interest you.

Who thinks Altair is right and Samson should be avoided? Who wants to see Castor find out about Samson and Phoenix just to see his reaction?

And who wants a face-to-face between Phoenix and Aundreya? Or do you want Phoenix to avoid that girl like the plague?

Speak now, gang!