ADARA

"You have a good taste in formal wear, Miss Sazaka."

Adara held her arms out of the way of Kazmira's work while Hayvala stood to the side in her own dress. Her fur hems danced around the silhouette, with a thick, silk ribbon tied around her waist. Gemstones lined the edges straight to her wings. It made the Princess of Naveera glimmer like snow underneath a sun. "I think it's more accurate to say that you're the one with good tastes," she joked and dragged her attention off Hayvala. "I really appreciate this. It's nice..." Adara hiked up the skirt when Kazmira indicated for her to spin in a circle. Her own furs added a weight to her frame, but she stood strong against it and tightened the forearm sleeves, where they braced her wrists and glittered with pearls.

"There are a couple things we have to go through." Hayvala nodded at Kazmira, and Adara followed her to the vanity, straightening out the skirt before taking a seat at it. "Customs that need to be met. Not many know of who you are, that you are a prisoner. I will keep it that way. For all anyone knows, you are a guest of mine — one from Haneka."

Kazmira tucked out a thick brush from one of the multitude of cabinets around the mirror after she ran her long fingers through her wavy locks. "Is there something specific? I'm not exactly born around nobles. I was raised in a loghouse out in the middle of a forest," Adara said, then winced when Kazmira fought the stress knots she created with her tearing frustration from within the tower. "I don't want to offend anybody by, you know, stepping with the wrong foot, or something." Hands in her feathers, she followed Kazmira's motions of brushing out her hair, drawing out the tangles barely touching her shoulders.

"Oh, nothing such as that. At least, not those minute details that you need to concern yourself with," Hayvala said and sat in the small lounge closest to her. "The first order of business is always declarations of the first dance. As I am Princess and Queen Regent, I'll be the first to declare mine. Out of a cautionary sense of what can only be described as curiosity, I am anticipating that you will be asked to dance by nobles. I am going to teach you how to reject them without causing offense."

Adara frowned when Kazmira finished with her hair and sorted through the jewelry boxes. "They don't like hearing no?"

Hayvala rolled her neck with a tight smile. "There are several reasons, but they don't like hearing no if they think they can get something out of the dance. You will be a curiosity to them, born of the sunlands. Most of all, you're a woman, and we are expected to have a first dance, especially those of us born of noble blood. The first dance is a tradition which goes back to Old Naveera. But there is a way."

"You don't want me to dance with any of them?"

"No." Hayvala tapped her chest. "I am going to teach you the proper way to tell them no. It is complicated in its simplicity. You must acknowledge their offer first and foremost." On her feet, she drew closer when Kazmira set some pearly ear cuffs on her ears. It twinkled in her ears, a quiet, ringing bell which reminded her of the twilight ribbons at the shrine in Prunal, abandoned to time and misunderstanding, though Garren cared for it — his last sense of home. "Try and repeat after me, your pronunciation need not be perfect, they are not expecting it to be, or the fact that you'll be able to speak Navei at all. Still, let's remind them that people can learn." Hayvala raised her hand. "Xe'tana d'lo ulou Navei'al. Sorluz, d'lo roiz nex Zet'alna."

Adara blinked. "What does that mean?"

"The rough translation is, 'I can hear your song; but I am afraid I must decline the dance'."

Adara mouthed it with Hayvala's gentle repetition, then butchered it when her own voice left her mouth through a jaded wiggle of her tongue. "It was awful, wasn't it?"

"It was your first time speaking Navei. Be sure to raise the Navei'al with your tongue, and trill the r in Sorluz. Try a couple more times while I get our masks ready." Hayvala sorted through a wide box on the edge of the table and lifted out two masks of varying shades of gray, speckled with snow-whites like Yuven's feathers. Along the browed rim, shaped crystal snowflakes accentuated the features down the draconic nose and through the fangs. Adara repeated the polite rejection over and over until her tongue stopped sticking itself through her lips. Though the trill came out an awkward vibration past them, and Hayvala smiled.

"The trill is a little difficult," she explained. "Not entirely a problem if you cannot do it."

Adara nodded and remained still as Kazmira weaved the same pearls through the thickest strands of her hair. "I am done," Kazmira chittered, and Adara got out of the chair and looked at her unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. From a girl with a crimson cloak to a lady donned in endless whites. Discomfort rolled across her shoulders at her fading fairytales, but she smiled at Hayvala when she put her hands on her shoulders.

"How do I look?" Adara whispered.

Hayvala let her go and tucked her hands into her cuffs. "You are radiant." She took one of the masks into her hands, and held it out to her as bells rang out through the city with a heavy thrum of power, and she slipped it on, fixing the false feathers cupped around her ears. "Keep my lesson in mind. You must save your first dance, for it is the most important of the steps." Music played in her ears when Hayvala took her arm and guided her out of the room and into the royal wing of the palace.

"Are you not worried about Blackwall and your brother?"

"Blackwall is busy with his research of the world sphere. He won't be coming to the dance. As for His Grace, he isn't either. At least for this first round of the steps." Hayvala squeezed her arm with her fingers. "This is important. We must time this well. I am going to take you down to Yuven when the first masquerade is done and everyone departs for some time before reconvening. Most will be heading to the Volaris Opera House to view a showing of the Tale of the Snow Prince. It will be a window of time where I might be able to get you both out of here without drawing the attention of the nobles. It is important that they do not see Yuven Traye."

"Because he's a claimant?" Adara whispered.

"Yes, and many would seek to use that. Equal to them would see Yuven Traye dead."

Adara chewed on her lips. Here we both are, from royal families, but wanting nothing to do with them. Through their shared similarities, she found a sense of trust for the broody, hot-tempered, white-haired Storm Warden. In her own self, in her own fiery spirit the world stifled time and time again and he demanded for her to make the world burn for its cruelty when she tried to show it love; when Fenrer showed it love. With his prevailing belief of hope in despair, he took her hand and made a single revelation. In the most excruciating of pain, the strength to take one more step was not understated.

And just like this dance, I have to take a step. Adara escorted the Princess of Naveera through the deeper parts of the palace, where they reached a large domed structure in the middle of the courtyard. Ethereal figures floated through the glass corridors leading into it. Her heart pounded when the rest of the crowd parted for her and Hayvala. Whispers of Navei tickled at the small hairs across her neck, their gazes scanning her figure and her posture. Ladies tightened their neck coverings across their noses and peered closer through their sparkled masks.

"The Hanekan diplomats are here," Hayvala added under her breath, in Common. "Some of them may be observing the dance." Her wispy shoulder bumped against hers. "One of them has even agreed to help you. It seems King Reyn became aware of what happened and wishes to extend a helping hand. A chance to escape, if you will. You must save that first dance for them, they will explain more once you are safe and out of reach of the nobles."

"Okay." Adara dragged her feet forward and through the crystal doors.

"Another thing," Hayvala whispered. "I am suppressing your aura to the best of my faltering abilities, but it will not last."

Resolve steeled, they entered.

Music raised from the back stage, where musicians plucked at lutes and pressed singing keys on a keyboard. Adara's knees locked at the thin layer of ice along the mosaic floor, though everyone walked upon it as if it was nothing but stone. Others used the thin layer of magick to slide through the crowds with deft ease. Around the edges on lowered platforms, trays of food and drinks. Everyone wore a mask. It stretched around and left plenty of room for waltzing. Adara bit her tongue when her heel slipped, but Hayvala caught her with a hand on her back, then pointed at one of the tables, where people dressed in darker cloaks hovered by one of the windows. Hanekans, but Hayvala prevented her from rushing to freedom with a firm grip on her elbow, guiding her to the other wall. The Naveeran's closeby bowed with one knee before schmoozing with their fellows.

"I feel out of place," Adara whispered and hugged her chest.

"Patience." The music stilled with her voice, and Hayvala released her. "Remember my words. I will return to you soon." The Princess of Naveera left her side and glided across the ballroom, with all eyes on her. Her stature remained unmovable when she pulled the front of her dress over her feet and stood on the main platform, where the musicians kept their gazes locked on the floor. Her skin shuddered at Hayvala's Navei, clear and ringing out across the crowds, who hushed all at once. Heat washed through her temples, unable to understand her words. Everyone gathered around and listened closely.

Gods...

With a wave of her hand and a wide smile on her face, Hayvala called out a name. Through the crowd, a young man stepped through the front, where some older men glared at him with flared nostrils. His feathers perked straight with the wind in the ballroom, swirling snow around the crystal chandelier at the axis of the dome. He came to a stop in front of Hayvala, who acknowledged him with a nod. Arm across his chest and back, he bowed deep.

In a moment, the dance began.

Everyone moved in tandem, but she hugged the wall and tried to avoid eye-contact. Hayvala's repeated rejection in mind, she kept it at the tip of her tongue whenever one of the nobles came closer to her with a question on their lips. With her words, they went on their way to another lady, feathers puffed out. Hayvala returned to her, a satisfied smile on her face. "I apologise," she whispered. "I had to declare my first dance. Have you been accosted?"

"Only a couple times," Adara mumbled and kept her attention on her shoes, though she noticed some of the closest wallflowers to twist around at who came through the doors, though lead slammed into her neck and she tried not to choke at the thought of where Yuven was. In her peripheral vision, a young lady dressed in faint pastel pinks widened her eyes and hid herself in her scarf. One of her companions cooed in quiet Navei in the safety of their own dress furs, and Adara raised an eyebrow at them, though they completely ignored her.

"Welcome to the dance," Hayvala said beside her. "I hope you had no trouble getting here."

Adara readied herself for another rejection to slip past her tongue when a shadow stepped in front of her. Her gaze drew across their formal clothes, whites wrapped with grays, a looser fit meant for ease of movement. Lost in the venom of Derelicts, she raised her head into the crystalline jades. Touched by a distant, constant sun, the mysterious, familiar stranger drew a hand to rest a couple of fingers against his mask, where feathers bloomed and weaved through his dark hair, reflecting the light in the dark. Her breath caught in her chest at the different type of beauty in front of her, no mere ethereal ghost, but the dead came back to life.

His name traced her lips, and she caught herself in her frozen lungs.

A whispered, steady tangle of ocean waves born in the ice left his lips, causing the ladies nearby to stare at him in disbelief. Adara's heart jump started when he bowed his head to her, then held out his hand, a hopeful smile plastered on his face as he walked into the path of the dead and opened up a path to the Otherworld with the steps of his own dance.

"May I have the first dance?" Fenrer repeated in Common and flicked his gaze at Hayvala with a slight nod.

Once again, she found her lack of words an utter embarrassment compared to the first time they spoke, but she drew them out all the same. "Of course," she whispered in tears of relief and rested her hand on his warm, alive one. Questions bounced along her throat when he guided her out of reach of Hayvala, and allowed her to come closer into his outstretched arms. "Fen..."

"Not here," he whispered, and a jolt ran up her spine where his hand rested against it. "I understand this is a lot. I will explain soon. We must see this through to the end. Focus on me." He raised his free hand, pointing a finger upwards between them before drawing it down to her shoulder. "Trust me?"

Gods, you don't need to ask.

Fenrer smiled at her unspoken thought, but he brought no attention to it. Her hands went around his shoulders, and she brought him closer and bit down on a sob as she clung onto him tighter. He returned her embrace, and the entirety of the other dancers disappeared. As she followed his steps and avoided the slip of ice, she glanced back at Hayvala, who grinned and took the hand of her first dance when he returned to her.

"Usually in fairytales it's the lady that grabs the attention," she whispered through a soft laugh at the Naveerans who studied them with varying expressions of curiosity, but some with disapproval. "You seem to have made a bigger impression."

"I made a promise that I would." Fenrer came closer to her with a smile of warm mischief, and his fingers laced through hers. Faster to the sound of the oceanic drum in her chest when the tempo rang into a chorus. "I like your dress, by the way."

"I like your mask," she replied stupidly.

"And I also like yours. Guess not many things change." Fenrer brought her closer, and the mischief spread to the crystal greens. "Trust me?"

"Why...?" Adara found herself smiling.

"Just a part of how they dance. My Guardian taught me this move." Adara stifled a gasp when he shifted his grip to her forearm. Outwards from his warm aura, she tightened her grip. Misty glyphs rose from underneath his heels, and created a circle around him, a path through the ice.

"Fenrer, I'll slip," she whispered.

"You won't. Just let the flow go through your magick." Fenrer pulled her into a wide spin over his glyphs. Phoenix fire bounced through the focal points. In flight, with the silhouette of feathers reflecting a mirror underneath a twilight sea. A large shadow, and the beauty broke when the phoenix screeched and dived through the perfection.

On the last glyph, where her heel drifted off the focal point, she caught herself on Fenrer's arms when he tugged her back into him, stopping the spin with a gentle finish. Magick hummed through the air, and weaved through the magick. Hayvala widened her eyes with a curious twist to her lips from her own spot on the dance floor, with her partner tipping his head.

"How did you not get dizzy?" she wheezed through the excited jittering in her limbs.

Fenrer returned his hand to her back and smiled, softer. "I just focused on something else instead."