The Farewell Banquet: all the nobles and dignitaries in the palace gathered to send that slime Ewen off to his homeland, and wedding. 

 He sat at the centre of a long table in the Banquet Hall, glittering with crystal and golden lights. The red Wolf of Ewen's noble house nestled with the golden Trident of my own hung on great silk banners behind us. My mother the Queen sat beside him. I sat beside her, tiaraed up. 

 Giselle was a side character in the whole affair, despite being the bride. People bowed at Ewen's feet, then told him how beautiful she was, and how lucky she was. Then moved on. She really was beautiful that night, but plain; the lighting from the chandeliers above seemed to pass over her entirely. It was Ewen, the Queen, and me in the spotlight. My big day, too. 

 I was set to embark on my first-ever solo Royal Progress - a month of travelling to the Southlands border, then back again. I would lead the first wave of troops and weapons my mother sent to aid the Duke. That called for a very extra dress, layer on layer of rich gold pleating, dripping with rubies. The South was under the control of Duke Ewen. Duke Ewen was under the control of the Royal Family. The South was ours, and it was my job to prove it. 

 The feast ended, as these things usually did, with speeches. My mother went first. She always did. 

 "Friends! We gather this night to celebrate more than a wedding! We celebrate the South! For twenty-five years it has been liberated from the clutches of those greedy conquerors, the Lusile. It is time for its people to understand how much they mean to us, a united Alevia. We will, together, bring the people of the South into the peace and harmony the rest of our land enjoys!" 

 The hall burst into applause. I caught Derek's eye. We shared the blood of those 'greedy conquerors.' This was the first I'd ever connected with him like that, like siblings. Then we applauded with everyone else. 

 "Duke Ewen Wolfe, I have no doubt your new position as shepherd of the Southlands will be fruitful, and they will come to love you as much as they did your father." 

 She raised her golden cup to him, and he bowed, all humility. 

 Then it was my turn to speak. My mother had left the sentimentality to me. 

 "It is time for two people very important to me, and to many others gathered here, to leave this place. Ewen and Giselle. You will build a home of your own, with your people. We shall never be as close as we once were." 

 Ewen did not look at me. He studied his wine cup, instead. Giselle stared straight at me, a very convincing bittersweet smile upon her lips. 

 "In the time you have been our guest, Ewen, I have come to know your character. Faithful, and strong in your convictions. Giselle - darling Zellie - I love you like a sister. My consolation in losing you is that I could not give you to a man who deserves you more!" 

 Ewen dropped his cup. It rolled onto the table and clunked into the silence of the hall. 

 I beamed brightly, raising my own. "To the happy couple! May your marriage be long and never boring!" 

 "The happy couple!" echoed the crowd. Giselle was gleaming now (had the lighting shifted?). She slipped her gloved hand into her fiancé's. He attempted to smile. He looked constipated. Good luck, I smirked. Sure, he had been deceived by Giselle and Amacia, but he had chosen to cheat and keep his engagement to Giselle, even after I'd warned him. Whatever horrors Giselle had in store for him, he'd brought upon himself. 

 It was time for the fun part of the night: dancing. Wasn't fun for me, because I had to pretend I had years of dancing-at-balls experience, as someone who had, maybe, a week. 

 I think I got away with it, mostly, by dancing with people I'd noticed also sucked, and getting into deep conversations with people for the hard dances. Talk, I'd figured out, I could manage pretty well. Her bored, honey tones with the occasional bone-deep sting. I fell into that pattern easy enough. Even Giselle had never complained. 

 Six wine-goblets deep, Giselle approached me for the first time that night. 

 "You look radiant, darling," I said. 

 "You look shiny," she slurred. Shoot. She's drunk. The Queen and my brother were both standing in earshot. 

 "Enjoying your night?" 

 "I'm the soon-to-be blushing bride. How could I not be, Macie?" Her voice hitched for the second at the end. My stomach flipped over, foreboding. "Dance with me!" 

 "What?" 

 "I know, it's unconventional. But everyone will understand. Because it's you. Because it's us." She extended her hand. 

 "Why would I dance with you?" I hissed. 

 "Because I asked," she whispered. I took her hand, full of suspicion. She hooked her arm around my waist. "Don't worry, I'll lead." 

 As she pulled me resolutely onto the dancefloor, I caught the yellow eyes of both my mother and brother on me. Neither of them stopped me, though. This can't be that big of a deal.  

  The orchestra struck up, and Giselle really did take the lead. She swung me across the floor, determined. Our skirts swirled around us, my rubies flashed like blood under the candlelight. The eyes of everyone in the room moved with us. Giselle pressed her face against my naked shoulder. Her hand, at my waist, flexed, and pulled me closer.  

 "Amacia is a wonderful dancer. She took my breath away every time I saw her. She gave the music form, and life. And to dance with her - there was nothing else at all." Her nails were digging into my back. Her lips were at my ear. "This was our last chance to be together before the wedding. And you took that away." 

 She was clinging to me now, not like she was angry, but desperate. I had to keep us moving across the floor. 

 "This is not enough. I don't know why I thought it would be." Giselle was crying. "I'm sorry." 

 The music wasn't over. We kept spinning. "Why would you apologise for this, out of everything?"  

 "I should never use you like a replacement. I should never confuse you for anything but yourself."  

 She was right. She was also searching my eyes, so close I could see the way her tears caught her eyelashes. Her hand brushed across my cheek. 

 "Goodbye, darling Macie. I shall miss you when we part." Why was she back to pretending? Right - the song had ended. And she had gone. 

I needed some air. 

 Outside, in the comfort of the darkness, I leaned against a wall, panting. I'd brought a bottle of wine for some extra comfort, and took a swig. 

 "Your Highness." A middle-aged man with unkempt hair bowed hastily. His pale cheeks were flushed red. Clearly he'd also needed some extra comfort. 

My mind rattled trying to remember who he was... the Lusilean ambassador. I'd never had the chance to speak with him. "Your Honour," I replied. Then, to be friendly, I offered him the wine. 

 He drank like he was thirsty, and it was water. "I must say," he blurted out, once he'd finished, "the language your mother, the Queen, made about my people was rather in bad taste." 

 "Greedy conquerors..." I half smiled. 

 "She should really look to her own before using such terms. But, no, I meant the term liberated. It was our territory first." 

 I remembered whose side I was supposed to be on. And I'd done my research. "You only held it for fifty years! After conquering it from Alevia!"  

 "And before that? Lusilean! Before Alevia existed as a country!"  

"We're one island! You are over on the mainland! Obviously the Southlands belong to us!" 

"As if some pitiful small strip of water gives you more right to a land!" 

 "Then I don't see how you Lusileans have any greater claim on the Southlands either! So we won it fair and square!"

 The ambassador smiled wryly. "I concede. You share the blood of two 'greedy conquerors'. One who lost, and one who won."

"Ambassador! Remember who you are talking to! If it was my mother, she would not be so forgiving."

 He looked surprised. Was it unusual, for me to tell off such impertinence? "Your Highness, I forgot myself. Please forgive me." 

 I raised my eyebrows. Had I drunk too much? "Can I have my wine ba-" 

 Something whooshed past my ear. 

 My skin prickled like it was on fire. I spun around, trying to see what had happened. The ambassador looked to me, confused. 

 There was something in the stone wall that hadn't been there before. I pulled it out with some sharp tugs. An arrow. Arrow. That wasn't good, was it?

 Oh, f- "Get down!" I shouted. I didn't have time to see if he did before another something shot towards us. The dewy grass pricked my face and I felt helpless. How could I get out of this? 

 I heard the sound of a sword being drawn. Was this me dying? I'd already disappeared. Would this feel the same? 

 "Amacia." 

 It was Kesper. He'd come to save me, and he was never far. I allowed myself to look up. He stood, sword ready to defend me, scanning the dark gardens for my attackers. 

 "Don't move, Amacia." I didn't. "God, where are they?" he muttered.

 "The princess! Kill the princess!"

There was another noise. Kesper raised his sword. And there was a dead person in front of us. Kesper was ready again, and two more shapes - people ran towards us, weapons raised. Kesper shifted his grip. He moved like it was all one motion, fluid and powerful. His sword smashed through the weapons like they were sticks, and then through the attackers. There were two more dead people in front of us. 

 Kesper cast a quick glance over his shoulder at me. I smiled encouragingly, I hoped, and he turned back.  

 In the distance, I could hear shouts. How many people? A lot more than three. Kesper adjusted his grip again, rocked a little in his stance. Was he nervous? But I didn't move, because he said not to. 

 They came at us like a mass out of the night. By the time I could make out faces I decided we were screwed. Me, Kesper and the Lusilean ambassador. But Kesper did not back down nor hesitate. He forced them back with the sheer force of his massive frame, swinging his sword in a great arc. They fell back, but not enough. He couldn't get the reach to take them out. I scrambled backwards till my back hit the wall. I had nothing to defend myself with. If he couldn't save me, I was dead.

 The attackers began to scatter. I tried to make out why, what was happening. I saw the flash of metal, and the clash of weapons. Kesper renewed his assault, fully on the attack, downing one after another. They were disorganised, confused. Someone else had come to my aid. She didn't fight anything like her brother. Her weapon was a short spear, that circled out from her body, unhesitating, confident slashes. She danced into the fray of bodies, coming down on them from above, from below, forcing them to meet Kesper's inevitable death blows. I felt stupid thinking her height could ever get in the way of how breathtaking a murderer Ciel was. 

 It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes, and all the attackers were dead. Ciel sprung away into the darkness, and Kesper knelt before me, taking my face in both his bloodied palms. 

 "Are you injured, Your Highness." 

 I shook my head and his hands. "No." He leaned back, relieved. For some reason (the wine) I reached for his own face. "Are you?" 

 He shook his head back, with a slight smile. "I am unhurt." 

 "And you - are you okay?" Kesper started. The Lusilean ambassador heaved himself off the ground. He looked at us, dazed. 

"I, too, am unharmed, thank the stars. But what, may I ask, just occured?" 

 "There was a protest outside the gates." Ciel had returned. She nodded at her brother. "A contingency split off and tried to climb the palace walls. They were able to overwhelm the guards. Among them were a group who were armed. Clearly they had come prepared, though they were not well trained, or equipped." She bent down and picked up a fallen weapon. It was a small scythe, slightly rusty. "I do not know their ultimate intention, but they saw you." She looked right at me. "How could they miss you, in all that gold?" 

 "Where are the Imperial Unit? How could they let it get this close? She was almost killed!" I'd never heard Kesper this mad. 

 Ciel shrugged. "They were guarding the doors. They didn't know you went outside." 

 Whoops. 

 "But, yes. This all reflects pretty bad on all of us. I understand they'd prefer this didn't get out to the general public." She shared another look with Kesper, about something I didn't get. 

 Kesper paused. "Go ahead, sis." 

 Ciel smiled a feline smile, and brought something to her lips. It looked like a straw. 

 The Lusilean ambassador collapsed. 

 "I put him to sleep," she explained lightly, and I realised she was explaining to me specifically. "I'll take him to your brother, and in the morning he'll wake up with a headache, and remember he drunk too much last night, and nothing else." 

 I blinked, trying to make sense of things. "Wait, I thought you said your sister wasn't a bodyguard!" 

 Ciel burst out laughing. "I'm not. Prince Derek prefers to use me in more... big picture manoeuvres. His royal person is well enough defended without me. You, on the other hand, Amacia – Kes, I keep telling you not to go it alone. It's not the right move to make now." 

 "The risks-" 

 "Clearly, the risks are greater in this situation." Ciel stooped down and hauled the ambassador over her shoulder. "Of course, that's only what I'd do if I were you. I don't particularly care either way, personally." 

 "You've made that very clear." 

 Ciel said something in a language I didn't understand. Lusilean. She turned away, the ambassador flopping behind her. "Still think you made the right choice?"