The days until the ball passed uneventfully. Maren kept to her rooms, either meditating or reading, and waited for time to pass. Solitude did not particularly perturb her, and she much preferred solitude to having the Prince grumbling at her.

The way he had acted around her was irritating, of course, but also somewhat comical. He seemed to be torn between fear and loathing of her.  He had even recoiled from her approach before they walked in the gardens! It seemed rather ridiculous that he should be afraid of her. He, Crown Prince of the kingdom, was terrified of the lowly daughter of a rural count?

In a way, she understood some of his fear. But the Prince acted as though she carried some sort of contagious disease that he might catch if he came too close. That was the part that truly annoyed her.

And now she had to spend an entire evening in his company.

She prepared for the ball with minimal enthusiasm. Mrs. Whitley had dubbed one of her gowns "suitable" for the event. It was made of dark green lace and had a square neckline with fluttery lace cap sleeves. Maren thought it was rather pretty with its full skirt and sweep train, although she had originally objected to her mother buying it as an unnecessary expense. But her mother had refused to send Maren to Court without at least one ball gown, and now she was truly grateful. She wished her mother could see her wear it.

She generally avoided balls and similar events—not that there were that many to attend at her home. But since the principal reason for women her age to attend social gatherings was to find a suitable husband, and she absolutely would not marry, she considered them a waste of time and an unnecessary risk. Any social gatherings were an opportunity to expose herself, and she avoided them.

She supposed a 'normal' woman in her position would be excited to go to a ball on the arm of a prince, but Maren could think of few things she'd like to do less.

Lucy, at least, was excited enough for both of them. She had chatted to Maren incessantly while helping her dress and fixing her hair. Lucy had heard from Lady So-and-so's maid that she was wearing a pink dress, and wasn't that scandalously unfashionable? And did she know that Count Such-and-such would be here with his new wife? She was Prince Kieran's choice at last year's Selection.

Maren politely smiled and nodded along. She would have been happy enough to let Lucy take her place if she could.

"Do you know what Lady Callista will be wearing?" Lucy asked Maren when her hair was nearly finished.

"Who?"

"Prince Kieran's mistress..." Lucy explained, her tone suggesting Maren should absolutely have known that.

"Ah, yes...ah...no, I don't know," Maren answered.

Maren had never even seen Lady Callista or had any idea of who she was. She didn't have any real interest in getting to know the other woman, either. Maybe in the past, women from the Selection developed some camaraderie among themselves, but Maren couldn't imagine cozying up to Lady Callista. Their circumstances might appear similar from the outside, but Maren doubted very much she could find common ground with her.

Besides, having something like a friend was entirely too dangerous.

"There, all finished!" Lucy declared. "You are very lovely, my lady."

Maren surveyed her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was arranged into an intricate updo. Lucy had done an impressive job.

"Thank you, Lucy, and thank you for your help. Please have a nice evening," Maren said, smiling at the maid. She really was very sweet.

Lucy bobbed a curtsy and left.

Maren checked the clock. There were a few minutes before the ball started. She sat quietly for a few moments, trying to muster up her strength for the evening.

She would have to put on her best court manners. And be friendly to the courtiers. And dance. And pretend to be smitten with the Prince. And ignore his rudeness. And contain the Light.

It was going to be a long night.

—

The ballroom was magnificent. The walls were lined with huge arched windows, and the high ceiling was covered in gilded molding. The adornments continued down the walls, giving the impression that the whole room had been turned upside down and dipped in gold.

They had made a fashionably late arrival, and the room was already full of courtiers. Some waltzed on the dance floor, while others were in clusters near the refreshments table. The largest cluster was on the other side of the room, presumably, that was where the king and queen were.

Her entrance with the Prince, although unannounced, had attracted a fair amount of notice. Maren felt the eyes of the Court on her as the Prince led her towards the largest cluster of courtiers. She held her head high, trying to appear as though she did not notice. It was dreadful, though. She had spent nearly half her life trying to avoid notice. Being on display at the ball was terribly uncomfortable.

The crowd parted as they approached to reveal the King and Queen. If Maren was uncomfortable before, she was full of anxiety now. While she did not worship the monarchs as much of the nobility seemed to, it was still nerve-wracking to meet them. She had grown up with the notion that the King and Queen were some distant authority with minimal power to impact her circumstances. But now that she was in the palace, they had so much power over her life, including the power to end it. And that was without even considering the King's supernatural powers.

"Ah, there you are!" the Queen exclaimed to the Prince.

He smiled courteously and bowed to her and the king. "Your Majesties, may I present my companion, Lady Maren Casteris."

Maren performed her absolute best curtsy, murmuring, "Your Majesties," as she did.

"Lady Maren," the Queen said, "you are most welcome at Court."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Maren said. For the first time, she looked at the Queen. She was dressed very elegantly in a dark blue dress that was fashionable but appropriate for a woman her age. Her hair was mostly still a chestnut brown, but with streaks of grey beginning to show. She had a kind expression on her face, but sharp eyes that gave Maren the impression that few things happened at Court of which the Queen was not aware.

"Perhaps you will tell us more about the North, it has been some time since we have made that journey," the King said.

"I would be honored, Your Majesty," Maren replied. The King was rather different from the Queen. He was broad and, like Prince Donovan, had dark features. He seemed to have a cheerful demeanor, but Maren suspected it was the sort of cheerfulness that sometimes went hand in hand with a vicious temper.

"Thank you, dear, for taking the time out of your evening to introduce your lovely companion," the Queen said to the Prince. "Now, do go and enjoy yourselves."

At the dismissal, the Prince bowed and Maren curtsied again. He led her away silently. She was relieved to have that introduction over with quickly—she had barely any time to even look at the monarchs—but still felt on edge regarding the rest of the evening. She felt extremely awkward.

"Can you dance?" the Prince asked, obviously believing that she could not.

Maren took a deep breath, trying to tamp down her irritation. "Yes, Your Highness," she replied. As can every young woman of noble birth, she thought bitterly.

They stood silently at the edge of the dancing and waited for the current song to end. It was a pleasant enough melody and the musicians playing were talented. Maren liked seeing the women in their colorful dresses and the men in their tailcoats spinning all over the floor. It was rather pretty to look at. She very much preferred to just watch, but when the song ended the Prince led her into the dancers, many of whom stepped aside to make room for them.

As the musicians began again, the Prince took her right hand in his and put his other hand lightly on her waist. She put hers on his shoulder and the waltz began.

She had no great love for dancing, but was competent enough at it when she had a decent partner. The Prince was quite good and Maren was relieved it would be fairly easy to dance with him.

They did not speak. Maren plastered a reasonably pleasant smile on her face and tried to focus on stepping correctly. When the song was finished, they left the dancing and the Prince took her to another group of courtiers, to whom she was introduced. Maren curtsied and smiled and said all the right things. Then there was more dancing and introductions and dancing again, and it all became a bit of a blur to her.

"You actually do know how to do this," the Prince mused during their fifth or sixth dance.

She looked at him quizzically.

"I mean, being at Court, the protocols and customs and such. Clearly, you were properly educated even though, well, your family could not have planned a marriage for you," he explained.

She pursed her lips, suppressing her irritation. The Prince had more than once seemed to be surprised when she demonstrated that, in fact, she was not raised in a barn.

"No, Your Highness, they did not, but it would not be appropriate for them to neglect their daughter's 'proper' education," she replied, trying to keep her annoyance out of her voice.

The Prince nodded; if he was abashed by her response, he didn't show it.

"I will have to introduce you to Kieran," he muttered. "He will likely want to dance with you."

She nodded, what was one more dance with one more royal?

"Be very careful around Kieran," the Prince warned, his tone deadly serious.

She glanced at him and was surprised to see he appeared more worried than anything.

She nodded again, saying, "Yes, Your Highness."

When the song finished, he led her to where Prince Kieran was standing with another young woman. She had barely looked at Prince Kieran when she had been at the Selection—as a matter of fact, she still had barely actually looked at Prince Donovan—but she found the comparison between the two interesting. Both were several inches taller than Maren, but she thought Prince Donovan was a bit taller than his brother. Whereas Prince Donovan was broadly built, Prince Kieran was more fine-boned. Both men had relatively short dark hair, but whereas Prince Donovan's was tidy, Prince Kieran's was a bit longer. It gave him a rakish, dashing look, while Prince Donovan was more classically handsome. That night, they both wore similar black tailcoats, but were obviously very different men. 

The lady who stood beside Prince Kieran was petite and gorgeous, with delicate features and long, shining blonde hair. She wore a bright red dress and Maren had to admit the two of them made a rather striking couple. 

"Brother!" Prince Kieran exclaimed, "How lovely to see you."

"Kieran," Prince Donovan nodded at his younger brother. Maren noticed he did not share Prince Kieran's enthusiasm.

"May I present my companion, Lady Maren Casteris," Prince Donovan said.

Maren curtsied for the thousandth time and murmured, "Your Highness," keeping her eyes downcast.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Maren. Donovan, you recall, Lady Callista?" There was more curtsying and bowing and murmuring of titles.

"Lady Maren, may I introduce you to my companion, Lady Callista Hartley."

The women curtsied to one another.

"Perhaps I may dance with Lady Maren, and you with Lady Callista?" Prince Kieran suggested.

Prince Donovan nodded and offered his arm to Lady Callista.

When Maren took Prince Kieran's arm, she had to stifle a gasp. She couldn't be certain, but he seemed to vibrate with power. The Light began rising within her in response, and she suppressed it viciously.

She had known Prince Kieran, like Prince Donovan, controlled the Darkness, but she had never seen or sensed anything remotely like this within Prince Donovan. And she had only briefly met the King, but she had sensed nothing there either. But instantly upon touching Prince Kieran, she felt a buzzing in her bones that she instinctively knew must be his raw power. It was very unsettling.

The very first step of the dance, Prince Kieran stepped on her toes.

"Oh, gods, my lady, I am so sorry!" he exclaimed. "What a terrible impression I'm making."

"Not at all, Your Highness," she said, trying not to grimace as he stepped on her toes again.

He kept stepping on her toes the entire song. He was either a disgraceful dancer or did it on purpose. By the time the dance ended, Maren's toes were throbbing, and she was holding back a grimace.

"Thank you for the dance, my lady," Prince Kieran said. He took her hand and kissed it, bowing dramatically. "I hope to see you again very soon," he said, looking up at her.

A shiver shot down Maren's spine at his words. Something about the younger prince was deeply unnerving. Much to her surprise, she was actually relieved to be returned to Prince Donovan. He might be rude, arrogant, and insulting, but he didn't make her skin crawl.

Once Prince Kieran had moved on with Lady Callista, Prince Donovan turned to Maren and bent his head to whisper in her ear.

"What did he do?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all," she whispered back. It seemed foolish to complain about the other prince stepping on her toes.

Prince Donovan pulled back slightly to look her straight in the eyes. Actually, it was the first time she had ever made true eye contact with him. His eyes were a very dark brown and full of an emotion Maren couldn't quite read. Was it...alarm?

"Tell me," he ordered.

"Really it was nothing, he just stepped on my toes a lot," she said dismissively.

The Prince scowled. "You didn't --"

"Of course not," she snapped.

"Watch your tone," he growled. "And your addresses," he added.

Maren pursed her lips. Whatever brief moment of civility they had was gone. "As you wish, Your Highness," she said through gritted teeth.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite person!" a jovial voice called in their direction. They separated and Maren saw it was the Court Physician. He seemed to be on rather friendly terms with the Prince, but she wasn't sure if they were actually friends or if the physician just liked talking as though they were.  He was quite handsome though, with striking features. His hair was blonde, and his eyes were a lovely shade of green, but the first thing she noticed about him was his smile. It was the sort of friendly and genuine smile that insisted one smile back.

"Oh! And you too, Donovan!" Lord Alec added. "Lady Maren," he bowed to her. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

Once again, Maren smiled and curtsied as expected.

"I don't suppose you would grant me the honor of a dance with your lady," he asked the Prince.

"Certainly," the Prince responded.

Maren took Lord Alec's arm with alacrity, grateful for an escape from the Prince.

"And how are you enjoying the ball?" he asked once the song began.

"I am enjoying it very much, my lord," Maren replied.

"That bad, eh?" Lord Alec asked with a grin.

Maren laughed, immediately charmed by Lord Alec's candor.

"Was I that obvious?" she asked.

He smiled. "No, I'm just particularly good at reading people."

"It's, ah, well, it's just quite a bit more in terms of people and ceremony than I'm used to, my lord," she responded, blushing slightly.

"Please, can we dispense with titles? I find them terribly burdensome in conversation," he asked. "I only like to call Donovan 'Your Highness' because it annoys him so."

Maren smiled and nodded, rather liking this young man.

"But are there not balls where you come from, that's in the North, isn't it?"

Maren nodded. "There are sometimes, but a good bit smaller. And I'm afraid I didn't go to them very often. The estate nearest to my family's is at least a day's travel."

"A day? That must be very far indeed! A day in a speeder gets you a good many miles," he said.

Maren suppressed a bit of a smile. She was not surprised to find that Alec knew nothing of the North. "No, you cannot use a speeder that far north," she explained.

"You can't? Why not?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

Maren smiled indulgently. "The roads," she said. "Most of them aren't paved, and the ones that are, are not in good condition. If you're further north than the Blackstone River, then the only way to get around is with horses."

"Horses! It's like you live in another world," he marveled. "Why, it's two days by speeder to my father's estate, but the roads are perfectly fine."

"Your father is the Duke of Worthingham...that's on the Western Coast, yes?" she asked

Alec nodded.

"I expect a lot of the Court likes to travel out to the coast on holiday," Maren said.

"You're right, the King especially," Alec said.

"No one likes to go North," Maren said, not without a smile.

The song came to an end, and he led her back to the Prince.

"Well, I thank you, Lady Maren, I found our conversation most illuminating," Alec said with great formality, bowing again. 

Maren had enjoyed chatting with Alec, but was in desperate need of a moment to sit without being closely scrutinized.

"Please excuse me, Your Highness, my lord," she said and then went to the women's retiring room for a bit of a break.

—

"I like her," Alec declared when The Girl had departed.

"You like everyone," Donovan observed.

"Not so!" Alec protested. "There are at least a handful of people of whom I am not particularly fond. But in any case, I like her very much."

Donovan made a noncommittal noise.

"Did you know, in the North, they still use horses to get around?" Alec asked.

"No, I didn't," Donovan answered. "I don't think I've ever been further north than the fort at Blackstone. Where did you hear that?"

Alec raised an eyebrow. "From your mistress," he said.

Donovan groaned internally, Alec was becoming suspicious.

"Have you spoken to her at all, or has she been too occupied in...other....activities to tell you about her home?" Alec asked.

Donovan shot Alec a dangerous glare. "I've been busy," he explained.  "And," he added, unable to let Alec's insinuation go unanswered, "I barely know her so, no, I have not been keeping her 'occupied.'"

Alec nodded, "Hmmm, that's not the rumor that's been going around."

They stood silently for a moment. Donovan was reluctant to speak in case it might encourage further inquiries from his friend, so he settled for a steely glare.

Alec nodded again, "Mmhmm. Well, I do like her, but she doesn't at all seem your type. She puts on a good front, but she's terrified. Shrinking violets don't strike me as an interest of yours."

Donovan thought it probably was a good thing if she was terrified. The last thing he needed on his hands was a witch who wasn't afraid of getting caught.

"I don't suppose you want to tell me why, after seven years of swearing off the Selection as ridiculous, you suddenly decided to participate?" Alec asked innocently.

"I do not," Donovan confirmed.

Donovan saw Kieran approaching from across the room.

"Well, whatever your purposes might have been, may I suggest that you might have an easier or at least slightly more pleasant year with her if you make some attempt at getting to know her?"

In response, Donovan glared at Alec.

"Your choice, man!" Alec said brightly, clapping Donovan on his shoulder.

"Ah, Your Highness," Alec said, bowing as Kieran approached. Kieran nodded curtly, barely acknowledging the other man. Behind Kieran's back, Alec smirked, he was used to Kieran's rudeness.

"Please excuse me, Your Highnesses," Alec said, and sauntered off to find more people to chat with.

"Quite a fine lady you've chosen, brother," Kieran said.

"She is lovely, thank you, and Lady Callista is very charming indeed."

Both sentiments were lies. He had barely looked at The Girl long enough to even determine if she was lovely, and doubted very much he would find her so if he did. And he had found Lady Callista to be terribly annoying when they had danced. She had the sort of breathy high-pitched voice many ladies at Court had that he found very irritating.

"She is that," Kieran agreed. "Why, if I were to walk with her in the gardens, I would certainly take full advantage of some of the more private locations. I certainly wouldn't dream of going there with her without taking advantage."

Donovan did not respond, but cursed inwardly. Obviously, Kieran—or one of his goons—had seen The Girl and him in the corner of the gardens _not_ being amorous.

Fortunately, The Girl returned from the retiring room, which brought an abrupt end to his conversation with Kieran.

"Well, I shall leave you both to one another," Kieran said with a smile Donovan knew to be false. 

"My lady," Kieran bowed to The Girl in farewell and walked away.

Donovan frowned and looked at the clock, it wasn't quite late enough to retire altogether.

"Would you like to walk in the gardens?" Donovan suggested, unable to bring himself to dance again.

"That would be lovely, Your Highness," she replied, and Donovan noted she seemed genuine that time. Perhaps she found the ball as uncomfortable as he did.

The night air was cool and crisp and a welcome change from the warmth of the ballroom. The staff had strung up twinkling lights throughout the gardens, and the effect made the normally beautiful gardens look almost mystical in the darkness of the night. The gardens were mostly empty, with only a few couples milling about. He led them to a stone bench that was well inside the gardens but still visible from inside the palace and, more importantly, the ballroom.

They sat quietly on the bench, not looking at each other, for a few minutes before Donovan blurted out, "Tell me about your family."

She seemed surprised. To be fair, so was he—he had not intended to make actual conversation. But perhaps Alec had been right about things being easier if he did. His friend was usually correct when it came to these matters.

"Ah, well, Your Highness, there's not much to tell, really," she began. "It's just my parents and me."

"I see," he said, feeling awkward. "No siblings then?"

"No, Your Highness," she answered. "I had a younger brother, but he passed away when I was very young."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear it," he said.

"It's all right, truth be told, I don't even remember it," she said. "Your Highness," she added.

"Ah," he said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I think I—I was perhaps a bit—it is unnecessary I think to use formal addresses in every sentence."

"I thank you," she said, not without a bit of smugness.

He chose to ignore it, and they fell silent again.

"Tell me about your home," he said, still feeling somewhat stilted in talking to her. "I have never been that far north."

"Oh, well...it is beautiful. My family's lands are at the foothills of the mountains, a few hours' ride from Clifton."

"That is very far north!" he interjected, surprised.

She smiled at his surprise. "It is about as far north as you can get."

"How long did it take you to get to the Capital?"

"About a week to get to Blackstone. And then we hired a speeder to take us the rest of the way."

Donovan was surprised. That was a long journey.

"I think I see why you have never been to Court before," he said. "Well, at least one of the reasons," he added, remembering the much larger reason.

She did not respond, and an awkward silence fell between them. Perhaps he shouldn't have made that particular statement, referring to her powers, but it wasn't his fault she had them.

He heard a nearby rustling and suddenly suspected they were being watched. Impulsively, he grabbed The Girl and pulled her to him, kissing her firmly.

She went completely rigid, clearly shocked. When he broke the kiss, he whispered in her ear, "I think we're being watched." She nodded once, still as stiff as a board.

He rose and offered her his arm, intending to take them back to his apartment. She took his arm mechanically, eyes wide.

As they walked, he thought about her reaction. He was not sure why she had seemed so utterly shocked. True, until that moment, he had made no attempts to engage with her physically in any way.  He supposed the kiss in the garden might have come as a surprise, but that didn't seem to be a full explanation. She seemed much more shocked than that would account for.

When they reached his apartment, she rushed off to her rooms and slammed the door without a word. Not even a "Good night, Your Highness," or similar pleasantry. He found that very odd, as The Girl's manners had been generally good. He knew they had started the evening under rather strained conditions, but he had made some effort at improving relations. And to be fair, kissing her had been extremely awkward, but he had explained why he'd done it. Besides, it was just a kiss, barely even a kiss at that, more of just a pressing of lips. Why was she so bothered?

Perhaps he was reading her wrong. Perhaps what he thought was distress was actually annoyance or anger even.

Could she put some sort of hex on him if he angered her? He didn't know.

Dammit, he wished he knew more about the Light. He wasn't quite sure you could believe everything in the children's books and pamphlets. But the only other source of information about it was the Codex, and that was inaccessible.

Unfortunately, Kieran had it. His brother was head of the part of the kingdom's police force responsible for protecting the people from the witches. The group was formally called the People's Protection Organization, but everyone called them Trackers. And, as head of the Trackers, Kieran was entrusted with one of the most important texts in the kingdom, The Codex of Light and Darkness.

Donovan had never read it; there were no copies. He had never even seen it. It was kept at the headquarters of the Trackers, or, as he liked to think of it, Kieran's lair. There was absolutely no way Kieran would let him waltz in and read the Codex, and even if he did, that would look suspicious.

No, he'd have to accept not knowing much of anything. He did hope The Girl could not hex him, though.