LIFE was significantly different after the blood moon ball.

For one, two members had dropped out of training. Dara and Osoric had explained that there were no hard feelings, that each year this happened when trainees found out what their life was really like, that it was perfectly acceptable. Still, Asmeen felt uncomfortable hearing it. After so long training and working so hard, to just drop out didn't seem right.

Second, her relationship with Aven had much improved. They still argued, but this time it was only friendly insults and banter. The other pairs much appreciated it, according to Wylla.

And third—Wylla, it seemed, had done some advertising during the ball. On Asmeen's behalf. Apparently she'd spread word to everyone that Asmeen had made her gown, Elyn's gown, Asmeen's own gown, and, most impressively—Nara's.

Due to this, Asmeen was getting bombarded with inquiries from women of all ages—from literal children to fully grown, sometimes married ladies, for gowns, as well as men. She'd had to tell them all that she'd only consider it after training was over, disappointing quite a number of people.

She couldn't really be angry at Wylla, though. Her sister had done what she thought was right. It would definitely help her earn quite a lot of money, something Elyn had pointed out. All in all, she'd just tried to help.

So the overall mood of the trainees was much improved after the ball. Everyone, including her, seemed much more motivated to get in, and less tired. While that was nice, it did make things a bit harder for her, individually.

Training had only resumed in intensity since the ball, all of them were soaked with sweat and smelling terrible—well, except Wylla, miraculously—as they returned home. Asmeen and Aven had taken to calling each other 'sweaty' the entire day of training. It had even spread to other pairs.

When they got home that day and Azol opened the door, their father was standing there as well.

Asmeen stopped at the doorstep, only moving when Wylla nudged her aside. She smoothed down her dress, coughing. "Good evening, father."

He didn't look happy. Had something happened? She exchanged a worried look with Wylla. Elyn was as stone-faced as ever.

"Has something happened?" Wylla asked carefully.

His lips pursed. So something had definitely happened. He turned to Azol, though. "Azol, do you mind telling the girls what you heard today?"

Azol, also, looked serious. Asmeen wasn't sure if it was whether he was truly angry or if he just wanted to go along with his husband. "Today, I was out in the market, and I heard that some truly lovely gowns had been made by—who?"

Oh, no.

"Asmeen Dasterian," he continued. "And that plenty of women were planning on asking her to make gowns for themselves as well."

"Father—" Asmeen began.

Her father held up a hand. "We've spoken about this, Asmeen. I don't approve of you sewing. It is not an occupation fit for my daughter."

No one else Asmeen talked to seemed to think this way. And besides, she was sure that she'd earn more with her sewing than he was doing with his failing trade currently.

Some of this must have shown on her face, because his expression darkened. "On top of what happened recently—" At this, he shot Wylla a pointed look— "You've decided to break my rules again."

"We were about to lift your punishment," Azol said, his eyes still fixed on her. "And this happened."

Asmeen swallowed. "I—father, I had to." She glanced at the twins.

Wylla quickly stepped in. "Our gowns were old, so I asked Asmeen to make some for us. She didn't want to, but I persuaded her. Blame me for this." Asmeen looked at her, stunned, but Wylla kept going. "And she only made them for us." She hadn't mentioned Nara. "She hasn't accepted any of the offers—she's told them all no."

Asmeen was taken aback by Wylla's speech. When she'd silently begged for help, she hadn't meant for Wylla to take the blame.

Their father only turned his eyes from Wylla to her calmly. Well, the calm was fake. The anger beneath was perfectly obvious. "Still, you have broken my rules once again. I wanted you to focus on the Flower Children."

"You must have wasted so much time on those gowns. You could have spent them on studying," Azol said.

"She did," Wylla interrupted. She was feeling brave today, clearly. "Elyn quizzed her while she made them."

"That is irrelevant," their father said, raising his voice and making Wylla glance at the floor. "You spent all that time on those gowns instead of focusing on your training. If you do not get in, we will be the laughingstock of the neighborhood. A mother who was the leader of the Flower Children, and a daughter who cannot even get in?"

At this, Asmeen looked at the floor as well. She hadn't meant for it to go this far. And yes, she had spent time on those gowns, but...it hadn't been completely useless.

"I am highly disappointed in you," her father said, the words almost physically hurting her. "Your mother would be as well."

With this, he turned and left, walking back down the hallway to his room.

Asmeen couldn't lift her eyes, but she heard Azol say, sternly, "Your punishment remains. And there shall be no sewing in the future." Then he left as well, leaving the three of them in heavy silence.

After a moment, Wylla took her elbow gently. "Let's go." Asmeen allowed herself to be led upstairs, into their room, where Elyn shut the door with a decisive thud. When Elyn turned around, her lips were set in that way that showed she was angry.

"Asmeen—"

Asmeen cut Wylla off. "Why did you have to go and tell everyone?" She asked. It was unfair, she knew, but if Wylla hadn't done that, then they wouldn't have been in this mess.

Wylla's eyes flashed with hurt immediately. "I was just trying to help!"

"Everyone would have found out eventually," Elyn intervened. "It's no use blaming each other." She shot a nasty look that they could all interpret at the door.

"You're right," Asmeen said around the stone that had seemed to form in her throat. He'd felt tears coming on when her father had been shouting itself, but she'd known that if she cried then, he would have been even angrier.

"He was being unfair," Wylla said gently, sitting down on the bed beside her. "It really wasn't that big of a deal."

"But it was!" Asmeen said, her voice wavering. "I won't be able to sew again, and he's angry at me, and—of course he's disappointed! Mother was a leader, and I'm not even a Flower Child!"

"The leaders decide who is made a Flower Child," Elyn said plainly. "You can't change that."

"But if I had worked harder before this wouldn't have happened!" Asmeen said, her vision blurring. "This is the last year I can try—and it's the first time I've made it into the final round!"

"It's not your fault," Wylla said, putting an arm around Asmeen's shoulders and pulling her into her side as the tears finally slipped out. "You worked so hard. I've been watching you for all these years—there was nothing more you could have done."

Then they heard footsteps. Hard, heavy, and clearly their father.

Asmeen wiped her tears as quickly as she could, the sudden spike of fear enough to make her stop crying for the moment. She stood up, along with Wylla, just as the door slammed open.

Her father stood there, his eyes already glaring and only turning angrier when he saw her crying. "Weeping?" He said, his lips tight. "Pathetic. Where is your sewing?"

"Father—"

"Not a word!" He said, holding up a hand. "Give me all your little 'materials'. Your thread, and your needle, and whatever else."

Still holding back tears, Asmeen—and the twins—quickly rummaged through the room and found her stash of needles and thread, as well as her unfinished projects, and put them all in a basket before handing them over.

"And stop crying," her father barked, before leaving the room.

Asmeen sat down heavily, Wylla right next to her, as Elyn shut the door as quickly as she could. She could still hear him stomping away.

"Asmeen—" Wylla said, then broke off. She probably couldn't find anything to say.

The twins let her cry, holding her silently even as they heard their fathers eat dinner and retire back to their room downstairs. Finally, when she calmed down somewhat, she dried her eyes and looked up. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Wylla said immediately. "If anything, it was my fault. Don't blame yourself."

Asmeen nodded, swallowing. "Well, now there's no chance I can make it worse. All my sewing is gone anyways."

"Well," Elyn said, her voice quiet. "Maybe not all of it."

Asmeen and Wylla both turned to her, wide-eyed.

Elyn slipped a hand into her pocket and came out with a long, thin needle that almost couldn't be seen. She shrugged. "I'll buy you anything else you need, if you want. If you need to make something, we can do it right before or after training. We can leave the house earlier than usual, that won't be seen as strange."

Wylla was the rule breaker out of the three of them, not Elyn. Elyn was—well, she was the most conscientious. What was going on?

"What?" Elyn asked defensively.

Surely she didn't expect them to not be surprised?

"Why?" Asmeen asked finally.

Elyn frowned slightly. "I could, so I did. Now keep it." She handed the needle to Asmeen, who pocketed it, shaking her head. They weren't going to get any answers out of Elyn, so it was best to let it go.

"Shall we eat?" Wylla asked, changing the subject. "I'll go get dinner from downstairs."

Asmeen nodded, honestly not hungry at all but willing to just get dinner over with and going to bed. Wylla left and came back up with dinner on a tray, which they ate quickly.

"So," Wylla said, breaking the silence. "How was the ball? You two looked like you were enjoying yourselves."

Asmeen forced a grin. "We only danced with people we knew. You, though—Wylla, I don't think I even saw you stop dancing."

Wylla grinned sheepishly. "Well, I did make a lot of friends."

"A lot," Asmeen emphasized. "Anyone special?"

Wylla rolled her eyes. "No. I'm not interested in romance or anything of the sort. But—Asmeen, you and your partner—"

"What?" Asmeen asked, blinking. "Why are you saying it in that tone?"

Wylla gave her a dry look. "Why are you getting so defensive? I was just going to say that your outfits matched."

"More like complemented each other," Elyn pointed out. "Black and white. But yes, you did look good together."

"Well," Asmeen said, searching for something to say. "Thank you," she settled on finally. "I'm done eating."

"I'll wash up," Elyn volunteered. She took the used dishes from them and went downstairs, leaving Wylla and Asmeen to get under the blankets.

By the time she came back, Asmeen was already half-asleep, and after Elyn snuffed out the remaining candle, it didn't take her much time to get all the way there.

See you next chapter!