Eliza helped him get ready. It was a bit like old times between them, and it helped to keep his heart steady. The dress was exactly what he’d hoped it to be. And as Lizzie piled his hair up, pinning it in place, Yirel let himself soak in an almost perfect moment. The final touch was a brass and feather plume in his hair that was sure to be destroyed. He sat and admired the art he’d become; a golden flower in bloom.

“There’s no use in waiting up for me, so get some rest tonight,” he said as he stood.

Eliza pressed her lips together and nodded.

The carriage was waiting for him as he stepped out into the twilight. Yirel held his head high as he walked up, and had the pleasure of having both the driver and the footman so taken that they stared. And the footman even forgot to open the door for Darling for a full three breaths, until he was reminded by a gentle clearing of his throat.

Yirel hid his amusement behind a plumed feather and silk fan, fashioned like a blooming water lily with a cord around his wrist, as he took his seat and gave himself over to his fate for the night.

His heart beat as loudly as the horses hooves he imagined. Silly, of course. But blessed ancestors, it felt like it. Was it possible to faint from anticipation? The trip from his little town house to the High Lords’ chateau took more time than it should have. The driver took them down the most popular and crowded streets, going at a slow enough pace that Yirel had no problem hearing the people gossiping outside. To say the populace was inflamed with curiosity was an understatement.

And Cavish was fanning those flames rather boldly.

He’d never once considered how a fly would feel, after being caught in a spider's web. As a child he’d had a fascination watching the miniature hunts in the corner of the windows as opposed to studying. He had more sympathy now.

The waiting was horrible, and he was glad for every second it delayed him. But time waits for no one and the carriage did eventually stop. Yirel gathered his will and schooled his face to be pleasant as the door opened.

And Rhindov himself was there, offering his hand to help Darling out. He was dressed in a rich ivy green suit with sable accents.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, Yirel took the offered hand and stepped into the soft glow of the mage-lights.

Sheer gold hugged his neck and shoulders before the watery green silk took over. The dress still hugged him tight around his chest and waist, but then flared out as he walked to show off the same sheer gold fabric slashed down his skirt like petals of a flower. The shadows of his legs could be seen through the added panels with each step, and the pheasant feathers in his hair gave him the added grace of extra height. Detached sleeves in the green silk kept it from being too improper.

Yirel’s hand was tucked into Rhin’s elbow, and the high lord whispered to him as he turned to face the rest of his guests, “You look…ravishing, Quaice.”

He knew he must look a fool, all wide eyed and shocked. It took him precious seconds to recover all while Rhindov held him close and pulled him along. Every set of eyes was on them as they walked up the short flight of stairs and into the house, but no-one dared to stop them. Rhin moved like a man with purpose and it was a fool who would stand in his way now. Yirel felt a wash of vertigo twist in his gut. What was he planning? And could he survive it?

Rhindov gave nothing away. When they reached the ballroom, he directed them to a short dais to the right and had them both mount it. The room was filled with the murmurs of people, but no music. And it wasn’t until Rhin handed him a glass of wine and raised his own that Yirel realized what was happening.

“Dear friends and honored guests,” Rhindov’s strong voice rang out and any pretense they were not the center of attention vanished. “There are rumors that I wish to address. Though to call them rumors at this point is laughable.” He chuckled and the crowd chuckled with him. Yirel felt the heat building in his face. “I have in fact declared my intentions, and Darling has agreed to entertain me for the time being.” Rhindov looked down at him, his smile more than smug. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, of course.” Yirel answered. His mind was spinning. He took a breath and called the smile back to his face with practiced ease. He must be Darling now.

Tightening his hold on Rhin’s arm and leaning into it, Yirel raised his glass a bit as well, the fan with its feathers dangling from his wrist. “I do wish to be certain of our compatibility. . .” he said breathily. He didn’t know why this was the game Rhin was playing, but he would do his best to keep up. If the high lord wanted to pretend they were testing the waters for marriage, then so be it.

Rhin nodded slightly, and then they both looked out to the crowd gathered around them, their glasses raised. “So there you have it. Please do forgive me for being a poor host tonight, because I fully intend to woo Darling to be my wife, and I fear it might take some time.”

His face warmed even further as the nobles cheered them and laughed gayly. Many well wishes and winks were thrown at them both while the less enthused found others to pout with. Yirel shamelessly drained his wine and let Rhin pull them off the dias and into the mass of people. Music started from somewhere across the room and a servant came and took his empty glass from him. Before he knew it, they were in the middle of the room and dancing, the rest of the guests making a space to watch them from.

Rhindov’s hand pressed against the small of his back; strong and warm. The other held his possessively. Yirel  braced himself against Rhin’s chest and tried to puzzle out the situation he’d found himself in. If things kept on like this, he’d just be reacting to his life instead of living it!  Rhin leaned down and whispered to him; “You’re handling yourself well so far.”

Yirel repressed a shiver from the warm breath against his ear. “I have to; for more than just your schemes.” Cavish’s dark chuckle almost made his knees weak. Almost.

“That you do, Quaice.” Rhindov pulled away to spin him, and Yirel caught a glance of his smile and glittering green eyes before he was swung back in. “But I had faith you would be a match for this. Surprises notwithstanding.”

“Hmph. I shall take your faith to heart, Sir.”

“Ah, so you did remember that part. And here I was thinking I’d have a lovely time reminding you.” The heat rose in his cheeks once more, but Rhin continued. “I meant it before. You are… impressive tonight.” He held Yirel tighter for a moment and his heart leapt in response. He chided himself for it right after. Why should he be glad for the bastard's approval?

“You asked for a jewel to shine on your arm, thus I gave you a golden flower.”

“Not quite a jewel, but close enough. That reminds me though. The bills sent to me,”

Yirel felt the tension coil around his spine and squeeze. “I did as asked and acquired a wardrobe you demanded. To have things ready in such a short time is an otherwise impossible task-”

“Put your fur down, Darling. I should have been more clear.” Rhin squeezed them close, the smile in his voice prickling along Yirel’s annoyance. “Your efforts are more than admirable, but they are just a starting point. You’ll be needing much more. I’ll send you a list of the missing items, but leave things to your taste.”

He was glad that Cavish was holding him close and that he knew this dance like the back of his hand. His mind was free to reorient himself. It must have been a romantic scene to the observers; Rhindov holding Darling close, with her head on his chest staring dreamily at nothing while Rhin smiled.

Another spin woke Yirel from his daze. Twirling back into the lord’s arms he looked up at him, intent on getting some answers. “Who is all this for? If you just wanted Darling in your bed no matter what, there are other ways of going about it that I know you are more than capable of, Sir.”  He kept his face the same dreamy expression even as he hissed at Rhindov.

Cavish for his part just grinned wider. “Do you mean to imply that my Darling is unworthy of the attention? You don’t have to stoop so low for compliments, Quaice.”

Yirel flushed and did his best to not grit his teeth. “You know full well that was not my goal..! And do not first claim that I am a match for these games and in the next breath insult my intelligence.” Rhin glanced over at him with a raised brow, and Yirel licked his lips and relaxed his face. “Sir.”

Rhindov clicked his tongue and gave a small shake of his head. “I insulted nothing. If you took it that way I cannot control your mind.”

The man was being infuriating. Yirel took a deep breath and let it out slowly as they finished the dance. Rhindov bowed to him while he curtsied, and then he was being led off the dance floor to the balcony Rhin usually watched all this from. The music continued behind them and the crowd shifted as couples took their places.

Two chairs and a table set for a delicate dinner waited for them. And much to Yirel’s surprise, Rhin came and pulled his chair out for him. Yirel hesitated for a moment before he took the seat with a soft, “Thank you.” It couldn’t hurt to acknowledge small gestures, and might earn him some small mercies later. Rhin didn’t reply and took his own seat, reaching for his wine before he spoke again.

“Why do you want to be more involved in my plans than you already are?”

Yirel smoothed his hand down his skirt. “There is a difference in being involved and being aware of what type of pawn one is.”

“Hm. I suppose that’s true enough.”

“It is. And I want to know what pieces I’m up against. You’re using Darling to stop someone else from making a move; that much is clear.”

“It is? This isn’t just the scrambling aftermath of a drunken decision?”

“You weren’t the drunken one,” Yirel murmured, looking out over the ballroom. “If one of those Lords or Ladies down there decide to take offense that you would pick Darling over one of them… It won’t be the Cavish house they vent their anger on. I don’t want to play along with whatever this is more than I must; I need to know who might be holding a knife behind my back.” He looked back towards Rhindov and  crossed his hands in his lap. “So?”

The younger lord Cavish was leaned back in his chair and watching him with the most thoughtful look Yirel had ever seen directed at himself. “...It’s not just one person. There are at least two I am certain of, and one I’m highly suspect to.”

It was Yirel’s turn to raise a brow. “Names?”

“Dascus, Trishna, Lavane. In that order.”

Yirel leaned his head back and cursed under his breath. “By the Angel’s Tits, you couldn’t have at least picked someone from a higher ranking house? And Darling is supposed to be from a country line!” He sat up abruptly and leaned forward. “Please tell me it’s just some insistent messages being sent-”

“Paternal Contracts most likely.”

He could not keep himself in the chair. Springing to his feet he pressed a hand to his cheek and started to pace, only to have Cavish stand and stop him by taking his wrist. “You want to use me as a shield between them and your house?!” He kept his voice down, but it shook with emotion. “It’s ludacris!”

“It’s not.” Rhindov moved them further back on the balcony so that they were not as easily seen from below. “Yes, they have the approval of my parents. These are generations old deals and promises that hold no real weight. None that I agreed to anyways. If reparations need to be paid out for broken deals at the end of this, then fine.”

“So why do you want this charade of courting me if things are sailing smoothly?”

“I do not wish to marry at all. I will keep the Cavish name safe until the day I find a suitable heir and adopt. However, while the elder Cavish’s still live, their fellows think they will find a way to convince me otherwise. Because my parents still think otherwise. And those fellows and their heirs are getting desperate. It’s not just the pressure from family or empty threats I speak of." Rhin looked down at him intently. "But none of that would matter if they thought I had found a partner through my own means." He crowed closer, and Yirel felt his heart leap when the wall stopped him from moving back. He wanted to ask what forces could compel him if the others could not. Why Darling would be enough. But his heart was in his throat and Cavish was looking over him. "Darling is the perfect match on paper." Rhin caressed Yirel's cheek with the back of a knuckle. The heat in his eyes made Yirel shiver. "We're both headstrong independent sorts known for non committal flirtations… well you're more the flirt." Rhin smirked.