Mai left as abruptly as he came. In the stunned silence, little food was eaten, though the wine flowed, and by the time the tables were whisked away, a warm buzz had spread through Rina.

Close to one hundred people clustered about the great hall, by their colouring, half were Denese, the rest, members of the Magisterium or affluent Euran's. The chosen huddled in small groups. A lifetime of training stopping them from approaching their betters, despite Mai's words.

She wondered if she imagined him telling them to mix. To be seen. His instructions certainly explained why Fin had been allowed to protect her, and why she wasn't whipped for her brief romance with Olav. Media must have known what Mai planned. Rina thought back to Media's behaviour in the chapel—the smugness when she saw Rina and Olav together. Had she wanted something to develop between the two of them? 

Instinctively, Rina's eyes scanned the room for Fin and Olav, but she was unable to see them in the crowd. She doubted they would be here. The Eurans wore silks and jewels. Even with their ranks as captains, and their Magisterium heritage, she did not think the plain-dressed Fin and Olav would fit.

A piece was missing from the puzzle. It tugged at the edge of Rina's awareness.

Her eyes still searched when Martha appeared. Grinning, she threw her arms around her friend.

Martha hesitated a moment, then returned the embrace, squeezing her tight and resting her chin in the crook between Rina's kneck and shoulders. "Gods, Rina, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too. Every day. I should have come sooner."

Martha had been more than a friend: part mother, part sister in that time after her parents' death, walking her home from school and feeding her before her aunt and uncle returned home. Holding her and telling her stories of all Mai's wonders, of his love and forgiveness, so that Rina no longer felt alone. Uma and Pietro had always been caught up in their own lives, which was natural she supposed since they'd never been blessed with their own child. Yet it struck Rina that blood should have been enough for them to care more than a neighbours child who was less than a handful of years older. She reminded herself that 'shoulds' were no better than bashing her head against a brick wall. Blood or not, Martha was family, and now they were together again.

Martha stepped back and held Rina at arm's length, enormous dark eyes scanning her from head to toe and up again. "You had things to do, but you're here now."

Her friend's words were true, but still, seeing Martha before her, Rina found herself overcome with regret. She let her senses drink Martha in. She'd filled out—the rich food, she assumed—and wore her finery with the same familiarity as her brown medic gown. In Amadore, the sharp scent of ethyl and the sweetness of ether had clung to Martha. Now, she smelled of lavender. Rina took Martha's hands, noting how the nails were a fraction too long for a physician, buffed and polished a purple that matched her dress. She grabbed hold of the hands, finding them soft and callus free.

"You look...incredible, Martha."

A blush bloomed on Martha's face. "How are you, after your journey?"

Concern brimmed in the brown eyes. Rina noted the dark patches under them, not quite covered by the skilful application of makeup.

"Don't look at me like that, Rina. Well, with that face, at least I know you're fine. I was seasick for the whole trip. Me, a medic, could barely leave my hammock—except to..." The words died off. Medics prided themselves on iron stomachs and the ability to hide their emotions under pressure, and Martha was a proud woman.

To make Martha feel better, she confessed, "You're braver than me. I only got below deck a couple of times."

Martha frowned. "Where did you sleep?"

"The captain took—"

An intense expression swept across Martha, and steel wound about her words. "Tell me."

Rina felt compelled to speak. She gulped. "The captain of the ship was sorry for me and let me sleep in his quarters—in a separate bed," she added as Martha drained of colour.

"What ship?"

Rina scowled. She'd forgotten how overprotective Martha could be. "The Crystal Queen."

Martha's lips thinned. She swallowed, then a too-wide smile grew on her face. "Enough of this. I don't want to think about that horrible journey—we belong on land, not the sea. Let's enjoy tonight."

Martha took Rina's hand in her own. With her spare one, she reached out to a floating tray of glass flutes.

Medics also prided themselves on self-control. So to see Martha drinking came as a surprise.

"It's the only thing that gives me the nerve to speak to them," Martha said with the hint of a slur.

Rina let Martha pull her through the throng where she was introduced to and greeted by other chosen Denese from the first arrival. Each of them seemed content. Their figures healthy—the men muscular and the women slightly plump, as was the Euran fashion. As Rina drunk more of the sparkling wine, she relaxed and eased into the conversations. Euran's, mages and acolytes began to blend with the Denese. Colourful groups formed and reformed like ink swirled through water. A bark of laughter came from Anat as she flirted with a lord, who though darkly handsome, could have been her father.

All the men present were striking, she realised, and the women too. With one ear trained on a Denese man, Nabu, speaking with enthusiasm about his experiences in the capital so far, Rina looked about the room. Some of Mai's guests were swathed in jewels, others, like the mages and acolytes, settled for simple silken robes, but they were all attractive and except for the odd Euran lord in his prime, young.

The mingling continued. Martha left Rina to find more wine, and a lordling pursued Sara, bowing over her hand and kissing it, leaving Rina alone. Rina blinked. Smoothing the sea-green silk dress, she fiddled with the tassels hanging down its front and glanced around, uncertain what to do.

Musicians began to play, though she couldn't see them, and incense drifted through the air, a sweet fragrance she couldn't place. An acolyte eyed Mehdi, but he gave her little attention, giving eyes to the lordling who spoke to Sara. The lordling seemed to return them with the discreet quirk of his eyebrows. Some people paired off and make their way before the dais, where a circular dance began. Martha moved with them, making the intricate steps look easy, and waved at Rina to join.

Deciding against it—she'd always struggled with the country dances held at the end of each planting season—Rina made for a couch half-hidden in an alcove, under the shadow of burgundy velvet curtains. An incense burner sat on a side table beside her. She sniffed, and her head spun. A peculiar, chemical-like taste formed at the back of her throat, and grimacing, she drank the last of her wine and slunk back into the cushions, closing her eyes.

The sensation of eyes upon her pulled her attention to the front of the room. Rina realised she'd lost time. Ro sat on the stage, her form blurred by a faint-green cloud, but a sly smile clear on her face. One that sent a cold trickle down Rina's spine.

The woman was twisted, so why did Mai allow her to hold power? Mai did nothing without reason, so she shouldn't question him, but she couldn't help herself. What did he mean by balance, and how did this affect the Carnelian Way? Did his admission that the Denese might be trusted to wield it, despite the Taint, mean her uncle and parents had been right? If so, could she use this to convince him to release Pietro and Iskra?

Incense pooled about her, and her thoughts became fluid, ebbing and flowing like the green-tinged flames in the wall sconces and the thickening fragrant clouds, again and again converging on one point: Mai had apologised.

A body plopped on the chair next to her.

"Why aren't you dancing?" Martha melted against Rina like caramel, head rested on her shoulder, arms sliding about her waist, and began to nuzzle her like a kitten.

"That smell!" Rina groaned.

Martha breathed deep. "You smell like jasmine," she cooed. "It was always your favourite—I remember. Once, I had to pick you up and carry you away from a perfume stall. Do you remember? I told you it wasn't for us, and you started to scream like a night howler." Martha chuckled. "An old, rich-looking couple walked past and made the sign of Mai at you." Unwrapping her arms, Martha put her thumbs and forefingers together to make a triangle, wobbling. "Now, after all this time, you finally get to wear it."

They both laughed—though Rina didn't know why—the room spinning. That had been one of the worst days of her life. It had been the day she understood what they were and realised she would never become a magister.

Martha shouldn't be able to smell her perfume with all this smoke, a voice in a far corner of her mind pointed out, but she kept laughing, not knowing why.

"I met someone," Martha said suddenly, slurring even more than before.

"Really," Rina peered around the room, and almost fell off the seat. Her hands rubbed against the velvet chair, and it felt like heaven. "Is he here?"

Martha's hand came to her temple and she sat upright. "No, he wasn't invited—he's busy." She began to sway.

"Are you alright?"

Waving Rina away, Martha said, "I'm fine. To much wine. Just promise not to tell."

"Why not? Is allowed now."

Martha shook her head. "Is new to us, too. Tonight...okay."

"Martha..."

"Mmm..." Martha turned a lopsided grin on Rina.

"Think we should go."

"But is funnnn here..."

The incense thickened about them. She needed to get away from the stink, or she'd be sick. Her brain grasped for words. "I want to hear about him in private."

"Hmm. Kay. Lesss go."

Rina half-dragged Martha from the hall, pulling her down the corridor and back into the women's wing. Night air slipped through an open window and Rina drank it in, her mind beginning to clear. Martha directed them to the suite of rooms she lived in, not far from Rina's and almost identical, with the same overhead platform and sulphur leaking from a dark passage.

She helped Martha into her small, neat room, tucked her into bed, yanked open the window, found a pitcher with water and made sure the night pot was within reach.

Martha lay on her side, her knees up to her chest. A sad smile crept across her face. "He travels a lot for the Magisterium."

"Your man?"

"Mmm. When he's in Nebia, he comes to visit me at night." She gazed out the window. "We have a special spot, by the sea wall, where he takes me, and we talk about our dreams for the future. I'm so tired the next day, but it's worth it."

Rina sat on the edge of the bed and placed her palm on Martha's back, stroking slow circles. A tightness built in her throat as the memories of sitting with Fin by the ocean came to her, and that one kiss with Olav.

"Is he here now?"

Martha nodded. "Yes—at least, I think he is."

"You've been seeing him?"

Again, Martha nodded. "Yes, but he's leaving soon."

"Will he come tonight? I'm not sure it's such a good idea to see him when you're like this."

Martha eyes shone. "I hope so. I would do anything for him, Rina. Please understand that."

The words struck Rina as strange. But it was a strange night, in a strange city, in a world that had changed in ways she could not predict. She bobbed her head and brought Martha's cheek to rest against her thigh.

A patch of her dress dampened as Martha sobbed her drunken tears.

"I met someone too," Rina said.

Martha's jaw clenched. "Really, just one." The subsequent chuckle was forced.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh..." Martha paused. "I mean—well, didn't you have someone follow you?"

Rina stiffened. "How did you know that?"

Martha shrugged. "Didn't we all? How do you think they chose us?"

"So they admitted it?"

"No, I worked it out."

"Explains why you were head medic back home. Is that how you met him?"

Her friend let out a sigh. "No, though I did have someone follow me. A friendly Euran." Rina sensed Martha's mouth stretch into a smile before she spoke again. "A handsome one."

Rina shifted and licked her lips. Martha's story sounded too familiar.

"Are you saying they chose him on purpose?"

Martha sighed. "Rina, don't be naive. Nothing the Magisterium does is accidental. Don't take me wrong. I'm not complaining. Just..." She broke off as if weighing her words. "Nothing here is accidental."

When Rina got to her room, she drew back the blue curtains, the moonlight spilling in a silver haze, and opened the window, letting in a bouquet of night flowers. She hurried out of her clothes, shoving them into the wash basket, relieved to rid herself of that sickly sweet scent.

She pulled on a shift and dressing gown, the fabric cold and slick across her skin. Sipping on a glass of water, she stared into the night garden. With Máni and Hecata in the sky, the trees cast twin shadows. A nightbird sang, and a cat prowled the fence.

Elbows on the sill, she leaned out into the night.

A face materialized before her.

Squealing, Rina fell backward, her glass falling and smashing. She scurried back across the floor, pushing herself to the far side of the room with hands and feet.

"It's me!" Fin shushed, hands raised. Looking side to side, he climbed through the window with feline grace and crawled to her.

She backed away. Who knew what would happen if he was found here. "What are you doing?"

Her back was pressed against the wardrobe when he reached her.

"I wanted to say goodbye." He extended a tentative hand and cupped her cheek. His violet eyes were dark as sapphires in the night.

"You're leaving, already?"

"You knew that."

"But—I thought you might stay a while longer."

He pulled her to him, and she folded into his arms.

"Don't worry. I'll be back."

He held her for a time, then drew her to her feet. "We're alone. The party will last all night."

He led her from her out into the park. She followed in a daze. Their feet crunched on pebbles as they circuited the fountain. With sure steps, he took her to a grass clearing in the back corner where jasmine vines draped over the sandstone wall. He laid her on the damp lawn, and his fingers came to the crystal he'd given her.

"Hold it," he said, pressing it into her palm. "And when you're lonely, when you doubt this crazy world, when you miss me, hold it. Close your eyes and think of me, and I will be there with you."

Rina thought her heart would explode. Her eyelids flicked open, and she took him in. The high cheekbones and strong jawline, the way he bit his lower lip and let it slowly unfurl.

His hands let go of the pendant, moved to her shoulders, her upper arms, and down her body.

She nodded, and his sure fingers undid her robe. He took her there, beneath the moons and stars, wrapped in the aroma of jasmine, cradled by the soft turf and cool breeze, his every movement careful and deliberate. She gave him almost all of herself, holding back a little—choosing not to ignite the spark of life that flickered between them. Not now. She would wait. Until they had permission. Because she loved this man, who had protected her. She'd give him everything, if he wanted, but not until they could shout it to the world.

Spent, he fell across her, chest heaving, and trailed kisses along her neckline. A pleasant ache throbbed between her legs.

Fin propped up on one elbow, his fair curls tumbling across his forehead. "I love you, Rina."

When he came back, she'd give him everything. Now, she gave him what she could and said, "I love you, too, Fin."

★☾●☽★

A/N: Thank you once again for reading this. I hope you enjoyed meeting Martha. Who do you think the mystery man is? And Rina and Fin in the garden🙀 Did she make a mistake?

Also (I know I keep saying this, but...) I am still trying to power through a first draft, and there will be some inconsistencies, some organic changes to the plot, or I may not remind the reader of something important where I need to (this has already been pointed out to me). If there is anything confusing, please let me know. But most of all, thank you for bearing with me. I promise I will fix it all in the end.

If you enjoyed what you read, please consider hitting that star ⭐️