Abreigelle helped herself into the carriage, which proved to be a difficult task in her enormous skirts. No wonder the Neurean ladies had people to assist them. After carefully squeezing through the doorway, she plopped onto the velvet seat, expecting solitude, but, of course, there were people already sitting across from her.

A smile spread across her face as she watched the three Swordfellows grow pale. They had obviously never seen her dressed this nicely before.

The one sitting in the middle—Evadrian—cleared his throat and whispered tentatively, "Ab—Abreigelle?"

Abreigelle raised an eyebrow. "Evadrian." She knew that he wanted to ask about Lenore. He always did, like every other guy she'd ever met. "It's okay, you can talk to me. Beshna went back into the estate to get something."

Evadrian sighed and raked his fingers through his short blond hair. "Man, I can't believe Beshna is actually going through with this. You look fantastic by the way."

"Thank you." Evadrian didn't look too bad himself in his bright green coat, which was much nicer than the dusty brown frock than she usually saw him in. Lately, everything that guy wore seemed to be wrinkled...at least he smelled nicer than the others. Abreigelle supposed that was why he was their group leader.

On Evadrian's right sat Asfounder, looking impossibly handsome like he always did, even hunched over. He was even more beautiful tonight, with his black hair combed back and tied in a short braid, and his jawline, so sharp it could cut metal. He was always the one that Abreigelle could never get the attention of, no matter how hard she tried. Flirting was only good for a while, and when she had realized it wasn't working she had just stopped. There was just no use. Trying to penetrate his aloof demeanor was like trying to break down a stone wall with nothing but your bare hands.

Asfounder was currently staring out the little carriage window, wearing a blank expression. So original...but she wanted to just stare at his face for hours. Abreigelle pinched herself to keep her mind straight. It was easy for her to lose track of her conversations.

"I...thought Sid was supposed to be coming tonight." Abreigelle said, noticing her friend's absence, "He was talking about it for days."

Evadrian glanced over at the sleeping teenage boy on his left. Monfreid was out cold, his glasses smashed against the fancy curtains, and drool coming out of his mouth. "Apparently Sid asked to switch places with him. I don't know the details, but I think it has something to do with you know what."

That was concerning. Sid had not been having headaches in the past few months. "Oh. That's terrible." But why tonight, was it just a coincidence or did he chicken out at the last minute? She idly rubbed the silk of her skirt, not wanting to think about it further.

"Listen, Abreigelle," Evadrian's pale face became serious, "I want you to know that whatever happens tonight, we will always be there for you. If Beshna meets the one, just remember that we aren't leaving this place—this manse--not until our duty here is up. Our job is to serve the Varners, so if Beshna leaves, we will still be here for you and your sister."

"I know, Evadrian, I know. Lenore's not going anywhere."

Immediately, Evadrian's cheeks became flushed with red.

Abreigelle continued, a grin stretching across her face, "You don't need to blush ...it's not embarrassing. Everyone already knows that you're in love with her. It's common knowledge. Even Beshna knows--."

"You told her!" Evadrian hissed. His voice was that awkward half-whisper-half-scream.

"I may have mentioned it, but even that was old news to her."

He rested his face in his hands. "I already have enough stress in my life..."

Abreigelle went on, repeating words she had heard Lenore speak countless times before, "Then you'll be happy to know that she is also too busy and is not interested in any sort of romantic relationship." It came out sounding too cold...perhaps she should switch the subject. "Maybe you should just let her alone. Maybe take up a new hobby or something?"

Evadrian opened a little hole between his fingers, letting his eyes peek out at her. Those eyes--black as night with a ring of green fire around the pupils--they would have been frightening on another man, a more powerful, less-caring man. Still, he could manage to send shivers down Abreigelle's spine when he needed to.

"A hobby? Hobbies are for Neurean nobles, not for peasants like me."

"Holy hells, Ev, you're not a peasant!" Abreigelle said, throwing up her hands, "You're the captain of a squadron of soldiers. You protect Beshna."

He raised a finger, "Guards. Not soldiers. And I only protect the Lady because I didn't want to spend my life cleaning out horses' stalls like the rest of my family...and because of the free food. Trust me, there's no better life than this."

Abreigelle leaned back against the cushy velvet seat and crossed her arms. He was right, in some sense. The Swordfellows had it a lot better than some, that was probably why most of the men joined up once they were old enough, even if it meant leaving their families behind.

"What was your family like?" She wasn't normally the one to ask such personal questions, but it felt like the right moment. "Were they good to you?"

Evadrian straightened. He didn't look taken aback. "I loved my mother, but I had an opportunity to make my life better, and so I took it. She encouraged me to go."

"But not your father?" Abreigelle knew she had stumbled into dangerous territory the moment those words left her mouth. Evadrian's face became dark, and pained, like he had roused a memory that he had tried to forget. Was there something she did not yet know about him? The Swordfellows hardly talked about their old lives, and she didn't blame them... there was a certain amount of shame in leaving behind those you loved for a better life, even if they supported you.

"My father." Ev said, "Well, let's just say he isn't the most accepting of me. My birth wasn't exactly planned." He sat back and raked his fingers through his light hair, thoughtful. "However, he gave me some unique opportunities that I won't ever be able to repay him for. So, as much as I would like to, I can't speak ill of him."

"Oh." That was unexpected. It had never occurred to her that Evadrian, that rock which all the others leaned on, was juggling with his own set of troubles. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to not have a parent who loved you, who viewed your very existence as a mistake. "So you are his...er...illegitimate son?"

"That's a nice way to put it," The captain gave a half-hearted laugh. "but it doesn't really bother me either way you say it. I accept it as it is, and there is nothing I can do to change it. 'Learn to live with what you have, and you will find happiness for yourself, no matter how bad the situation.'...that is what my mother always said."

Abreigelle immediately thought about her own father, and how she had not accepted his death. Had she made a mistake? Was holding on to him just a false hope that would only lead her to a dead end? Perhaps it was time to let go. She said, quiet and contemplative, "Your mother sounds like a very kind woman. When was the last time you saw her?"

Evadrian seemed to wilt. "Six months ago. We don't usually get to..."

A knock came at the carriage door, and Evadrian nearly jumped out of his seat, his voice trailing off. He knew what that meant—they all did. He blinked twice, and then straightened, jabbing Monfreid with his elbow. The sleeping teenage boy awoke with a snort and sat up immediately as if he hadn't been napping all this time.

"Abreigelle?" Came a familiar voice. Besna had returned.

"Hold on, my Lady." Abreigelle slid over to the door, and turned the golden knob, opening it with a luxurious click. To Abreigelle's disappointment, Beshna made no move to get in by herself. "Here, take my hand."

Abreigelle gripped Beshna's gloved hand and yanked her in, the Lady crying out in astonishment as her large skirts brushed the doorframe. Thankfully, the skirts didn't snag or rip on anything, which was a relief.

The Swordfellows sat in attention, staring at Beshna, clearly intimidated by her presence, as their faces had suddenly turned emotionless like slabs of stone. Abreigelle wondered if they ever got tired of acting like that.

"Did you get what you needed?" asked Abreigelle, one Beshna had made herself comfortable. The carriage lurched forward, gliding smoothly over the cobblestone drive.

Beshna nodded slowly, and slipped something out of a pocket hidden within the folds of her gown. It was a small circular plate of glass that glistened in the dim evening light, a plate that...Abreigelle tensed. Beshna had brought a disc. One of those magical discs that the Neureans were able to use. Why in the holy hells had she brought that thing?

Though they gifted their users with incredible abilities, discs could also be lethal in the wrong hands. Humans, for instance, would be killed instantaneously if they tried to bind one, and Neureans could only bind one or two of them without having their brains melt. Beshna knew better than to take one them with her--she could turn her head into mush if she wasn't careful. Even if she had practiced with the disc on a few occasions, that didn't make it any safer.

And why in the holy hells would she want to take a disc to the ball? Abreigelle clenched her hands, her polished nails digging into sweaty palms. This was a recipe for disaster. "What does it do?"

"It is a Hashis, a disc of captivation. It will make people notice me. Among the bland crowd, I will seem to glow, and if I operate it while Rashtar is near...he won't be able to resist asking me to dance."

That was the most insane plan Abreigelle had ever heard, and highly unethical. It was brilliant, but at the same time dangerous, like sticking a hand into an adder's nest. What if she was caught...and she didn't even know how to use it. "Honestly, that is cruel, my Lady. I worry for your safety."

"No need to worry, Abreigelle. I snatched it from my father weeks ago after I heard him mention that there were only thee like it in the world, and that it was the crowning jewel of its collection. That sounded awfully tempting, so, I stole it and stayed up late these past few nights practicing. I am almost certain that I have the patterns right." Beshna closed her eyes and held out her left hand. A heartbeat later, a tiny, luminescent saucer appeared, hovering inches above her fingers. Beshna smiled, and Abreigelle felt herself growing pale. In the dim white light that now filled the inside of the carriage, the Swordfellow's stale faces became etched with horror.

Abreigelle wanted to ask what it felt like to hold a disc in your mind, to hold such power. As a child she had heard stories of discs, and how some could make you run as fast as a beast, control the wind, or even fly. She didn't want to know what it felt like to operate a disc, because that would only make her wish for it even more. Abreigelle didn't feel like dying just yet, and had accepted that disc operation was for other races, and not for humans. That was why, of course, humans had been shoved so low on the social ladder many years ago.

Beshna continued, "Just don't tell my father about this...or anyone for that matter, understood?" Her face grew dangerous, as she extinguished the light and the carriage returned to near-darkness.

Abreigelle managed a nod. She didn't dare tell anyone, because she too could be punished. The cellar wasn't exactly the nicest or tidiest of accommodations.

So, feeling an impending sense of doom settle into her stomach, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes for the rest of the ride.