By the time they were dismissed to prepare for the ball, Tissaia was already feeling worn out. The hours had seemed to drag on since their arrival. She'd been given some time to clean up after the journey of course, but then she'd been expected to participate in the Aerstar rites and suffer through seemingly endless services.

    A part of her felt some sympathy for the Prince when she'd noticed him dozing off during a particularly long sermon on the history of the holy day. No doubt he'd been doing this since dawn or before. She didn't envy him. She had paid attention to that particular sermon though.

    She personally enjoyed learning about history, and despite already knowing everything about Aerstar's past, it never hurt to be reminded. There were similar holy days to commemorate the Ascension of all four of the mortal gods, Oriana, Drenusha, Durga, and Hadeon.

    Only Mother Nepenthe didn't have one, for she was eternal. She was the one who had created the land, then created her wards to oversee it. Her residence was in the Eternal Haven, caring for the souls of those long since past. Or at least, those not doomed to spend their eternity in Hel, under the rule of Hadeon.

    At least she could be grateful that this day was for Drenusha so she wasn't forced to sit through one of Durga or Hadeon's services. Tissaia recognized the importance of them, but it never failed to turn her stomach queasy when she was expected to spill some of her own blood into a fire as an offering to them.

    For the goddess of nature, living creatures, and wisdom, more focus was placed on remembrance than offering. For her part in the rites, Tissaia had laid out candles in the shape of the constellation that represented her time of birth and lit them, in honor of the constellation that had been born when Drenusha Ascended, the Fawn.

    Her and Talarion's constellation was, quite fittingly, a pattern of stars resembling flames or crashing waves. No one had ever been able to decide which it was, so it had been named the Elements. Azael's constellation was Levada, a pattern that formed a roaring lion's head, a beast as proud and noble as he. Tissaia had often found the differences in their constellations interesting in years past.

    Azael's was unquestionable and definitive, unlike her own. He had been born in the morning during the height of summer, while she and Talarion had been born at midnight in the dead of winter. All three of them were considered blessed by Oriana for being born under her signs as the goddess of balance. Of the dusk and dawn, the lights of the world. But only Azael was her true Heir, born of her bloodline.

    And Tissaia had enough sympathy for that particular Heir that she chose to wake him before anyone else noticed he had fallen asleep. She'd done so just in time too, as they'd been dismissed only ten minutes later. She had been in her room ever since, shooing away bothersome servants so she could prepare for the ball in her own time.

    It was to begin at sunset and already, her room was glowing golden with fading light. Tissaia smoothed the last tangles from her hair and tossed it aside to spill down her back unhindered. No doubt her father would scold her for it. He would consider it laziness on her part, not a statement.

    As the Crown Prince's fiancée and Princess Apparent, she would be expected to wear the glittering tiara currently resting on her dressing table. Tissaia had taken one look at it and rolled her eyes. Seeing as she was all those things in theory, it didn't seem necessary to decorate herself in a fashion that would only serve to embarrass her when Azael inevitably snubbed her again.

    She twisted in front of a full length mirror and tilted her head from side to side, taking in her appearance. The gown she'd selected was a deep cobalt color, not unlike the gems in the necklace she'd been gifted, but she would not be wearing that to the ball either. It would clash with the jeweled high collar of her gown that held up its draping halter top bodice.

    A set of large poofy sleeves began at her biceps and continued to pillow down to her wrists. Her shoulders were fully exposed, and the back of the gown dipped lower than she would prefer if it weren't for her hair. That would hide everything else she was afraid of showing.

    The skirt of the gown was full, but not heavy, and trailed past her feet only slightly. Her waist was cinched by a wide belt encrusted with silver gems, the same which outlined her bodice and sleeves. The gems continued around her breasts and down to her hips in a pattern of trailing vines, then began anew on a separate panel of fabric which hung down the front of her skirt.

    It wasn't a new gown, but it was one she'd never worn around Azael before. Tissaia frowned at herself as an unwanted thought made itself known. While beautiful and flattering, it wouldn't be any more likely to catch his attention than the hundreds of other gowns she'd tried.

    "Gods, I look like Talarion when I do that," she huffed to her reflection, and wiped the brooding look away as a knock sounded at the door.

    Tissaia called an admittance and her brother's head poked in. Talarion seemed to have cleaned himself up better than earlier as well. His hair was freshly washed and braided, and he had donned a black tunic embellished with silver embroidery that flaunted the hard muscles In his arms and the lean cut of his waist.

    "You look nice," she remarked.

    "So do you. Trying to get a certain Prince out of his pants tonight?" Her brother teased.

    Her face flamed and Tissaia waved a hand. A flash of amethyst light reflected around the door before it slammed shut. Talarion leaped inside a heartbeat before it would've smacked him in the face.

    "All right, point taken," he laughed. Then his features sobered. "But really, Tiss, if you don't want me to go far from you tonight, I won't."

    That coaxed a smile back onto her lips, but Tissaia shook her head. "I'll be all right. I know our time is limited and you should make the best of our temporary freedom while you can. I might have to put on a show for the court, but you don't."

    "Only for Father," Talarion growled. "You know he'll be watching."

    "I can keep him distracted. All I have to do is cause a scene or two. Shouldn't be too hard with Azael following me around." Talarion didn't reply. Both of them looked to the door as music began drifting up from the lower levels of the palace. They sighed together. "That's our cue." Tissaia extended her hand to her brother, then let it rest on his arm when he offered it to her.

    They left her room and started towards the staircase, but before they could reach it, another door opened. Talarion went rigid beside her and Tissaia tightened her grip on his arm. Their father was already moving towards them and Tissaia bit back a gasp when he grabbed her free arm, his grip strong enough that she knew there would be a bruise beneath her sleeve.

    "Already slighting your fiancé and the King I see," Roshan snapped, his eyes fixated on Tissaia's bare head, then her throat. "I expect you to make an effort tonight." His hand clenched, the sharpness of his nails pinching her skin even through her sleeve. Tissaia pressed her lips thin, refusing to give him what she knew he wanted. A sign of her fear. Her submission.

    "You're lucky Mavron doesn't care about anyone but himself anymore or this engagement would've been broken off years ago. I don't care what it takes, but you will procure a date from the Prince tonight, or you will live to regret it."

    "That's enough," Talarion warned, his voice low and hoarse. "She can't force his hand, but someone will notice yours if they come along."

    Tension filled every inch of his shaking body and Tissaia gripped his arm even tighter, knowing one wrong word from either of them could spill into another fight. Talarion had only just healed from the last one. Her father yanked his hand away when someone cleared their throat behind them.

    A moment later, a familiar tangle of unruly brown hair and an ear missing its pointed tip appeared next to Tissaia. As the scent of moss, timber, and smoke grew stronger, tension seeped out of Talarion as though it had never been.

    "Can I be of service?" Kaius asked, his gentle tone a welcome change from her father's.

    Her father only gave the Phoenix a terse smile and backed away. "I think not. I was giving my children some instructions for the ball."

    "Which we're about to be late for," Kaius pointed out, and looped his arm through Tissaia's as well. "Mind if I join you two?" His hazel eyes flitted between hers and Talarion's with a knowing gleam.

    "Of course," Tissaia answered sweetly, pasting a smile to her own lips. "It's been far too long since we last saw you."

    The three of them set off, leaving Roshan in the corridor. Tissaia didn't bother looking back to see if he would follow. "I'm sorry," Kaius said, lowering his voice slightly. "I wanted to come see you both but..." His jaw clenched and his gaze settled on the floor. "I didn't want to give him another reason to look at either of you sideways."

    "It's all right," Talarion replied. "You're here now." The pair shared a brief smile. "But you shouldn't get involved any more than you already are. If Father ever realizes how much you know, or if he finds out...anything else, he wouldn't hesitate to turn on you either."

    "I'm not going to just stand there and do nothing," the male protested. "Like it or not, you two are all the family I've got, and that means you're stuck with me." Tissaia smiled, her gaze briefly finding the woven bracelet of ebony hair that Kaius wore on his left wrist, right above his scarred palm.

    He smirked, his gaze tracking her own. "Are you going to tell me to keep it out of sight? Because you know that will never happen."

    "I wouldn't dream of it," Tissaia laughed. She raised her chin higher, ignoring the look Kaius threw over her head and Talarion's answering smile as they approached the ballroom doors.