"Do you hear yourself? That's ridiculous!" Quinn argued.

"It makes perfect sense. It's the last place anyone would look for her, and someone has been running this kingdom behind the scenes. She's been here this whole time." Miroslav speculated.

Quinn blinked.

"Then, all we have to do is get to her."

"We can get in at Solstice." Miroslav planned.

******

"No contacts tonight?" Quinn cocked an eyebrow.

The houseworker shook her head.

"No. This is a party of epic proportions. The costumes you will see will go beyond strange eye coloring."

Quinn sighed.

She knew the outfit was elaborate and ridiculous. Now she just hoped that everyone else's was too.

She snuck down the stairs.

Maude was fussing over Miroslav, who was turned away.

One of the steps creaked and he turned around.

Both if them gasped.

Well, Quinn gasped. Miroslav's eyes widened a fraction, which was sort of his physical gasp.

Quinn was in a purple dress. A subtle lavender that brought out her eery eyes.

The gown was edged in blue and white embroidered flowers. The back had a peacock tail of sorts, but it was only in fantastic sparkling blues and golds.

Which matched fantastically with Miroslav's outfit, in blues and gold, the shirt a soft violet lavender to match her dress.

A perfect pair.

They both already had masks slipped on.

But Quinn felt like she could see everything.

*****

The ball was actually ridiculous.

As advertised.

There were elaborate costumes of all kinds, some of them scandalous, some of them expensive, and some actually gravity defying.

And Miroslav didn't even look twice.

Quinn was straight-up gawking.

They'd run into Frizza DeLawr, wearing a dress literally covered in precious gemstones, with a neckline plunging to the line where Quinn imagined the top of her underwear would be. Nothing showed, but everything did.

It was a daring power play.

In comparison, Quinn felt conservative.

Miroslav dipped down, offering his hand to dance.

Quinn felt a slight blush rise in her cheeks as she accepted.

He was a wonderful partner.

Dancing with him was actually physically exhilarating. He was smooth, every movement glided, spinning and twirling across the shining floors.

It was fun.

She passed by a stunned looking Thesavia, and followed the sudden urge to stick her tongue out, making Thesavia sputter like an insulted grandmother.

Quinn began to cackle, spinning, gliding, flying.

She could feel the different energies of the room.

All except one.

She tilted her eyes up to look at Miro, and flushed when she found him looking right back.

She was still grinning broadly, and he had his own smile, his mouth turned up, amused.

His eyes.

The blue ice pools were soft, moving and twirling with the dance.

Quinn leaned a little closer.

Her heart pounded.

And then she felt something wrong.

She flipped her head to the side, almost breaking the dance.

Miro pulled her back.

"What?" He whispered.

"I can feel something cold. Calculating. Harsh." Quinn muttered.

"The Sorgina." Miro declared.

"We don't know that!" Quinn hissed.

The dance ended and Miro led her gracefully off the floor.

Then he broke away from her.

"Miro, what are you-"

"Stay here. I'll find her. I'll be back." Miro commanded before he pushed his way through the guests.

"Wait!" Quinn called after him.

"Quinn!"

Quinn jumped and twirled around to find Frizza, glimmering in the chandelier light.

"Hello, Frizza. If you'll excuse me, I really need to find someone." Quinn tried to move past her.

"That's perfect! I was just about to invite you upstairs, which has a perfect view of the ballroom festivities."

She felt genuinely relieved.

Quinn relaxed. Fine.

"Okay. Are we allowed up there?" Quinn asked, following behind the beautiful girl.

Frizza didn't answer.

Frizza was a talker.

The life of the party.

Quinn got up the stairs and then realized that no one else was up there.

"Frizza, I think I need to go back downstairs." She said softly.

And then she felt it.

Frizza's nerves. That sick tense feeling that had been too muddled downstairs to pick out.

"To look for Miroslav?"

Quinn didn't turn around.

"Are you worried? You shouldn't be. All the royal bastards are trained young in combat. I hear that your prince is extra ruthless. Although, it's been a while since he's been around to confirm that rumor."

Quinn dive for the stairs, but an arm slid around her throat, jerking her backwards into a headlock.

Quinn kicked and thrashed, but she felt herself grow dizzy as the pressure on her neck increased.

She scrambled desperately, and the pressure relaxed a little.

"Why, Frizza? What's in this for you?" Quinn stalled.

The man behind her let out a bellowed laugh.

"The DeLawr's have always been vain little cowards. She was just a means to an end."

Frizza had the good sense to blanche and run.

"Oh yeah? What's your problem with me?" Quinn hissed, clutching at his forearm, ducking her chin.

"You've ruined my reputation."

Quinn's eyes widened.

The arrogant creep from Harvest.

"I'm going to make you pay for that, but first, let's go see your boyfriend, shall we? He's a little overeager to take what doesn't belong to him."