Hated by her lineage, Iliya Dalaminai dwells in self isolation, awaiting the day her cousin marries so she might escape the Throne.
Feared by the Gods, Sorein Chakrine's crown is mainly a relic put on display at royal ceremonies to ward off evil.
Wh...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You look like you could use a drink," Noah commented, buttoning up his white collared shirt. He wisely turned his attention back to the mirror before continuing. "Though I don't suppose there will be much for liquor."
Jeremy snorted from the armchair in the corner of their dressing room. He'd been dressed hours ago, feet propped on the coffee table with his head lolled back.
"You're not to drink before the Final Ceremony is complete," Sorein reminded them both. "Though surely you'll find sweet release soon after."
"Are you calling me an Alcoholic, Chakrine?" Noah asked. He tossed him a dirty look and feigned offense.
Sorein only laughed and shook his head.
He'd also finished dressing rather early, using the time to straighten the gray tie and identify the most turbulent pieces of hair desperate to avoid oil.
Anything to avoid thinking about the Final Ceremony.
When Noah finished and threw his suit jacket over his shoulder - the closest he'd likely come to wearing one - they were ready to leave.
Jeremy uncoiled from the chair and brushed himself off, leading them to the door before freezing. The Captain had opened the door just before Siofra had time to knock. In front of him was the softly panting blonde Sorein had been trying to dodge for days now.
A mess, her stress had made sure her hair was greasier, clinging to her cheeks as sweat threatened to ruin the problem areas in her blouse.
"I need to speak with the Prince," Siofra stammered. "It's important."
Sorein blinked, his confusion growing.
If something had happened to Iliya, he didn't know what he'd do.
Murder could be rather unseemly on a dancefloor.
Jeremy looked at him, waiting.
Sorein lifted his hand, dismissing them to the Ball. "I'll meet you there."
His friends left quickly, closing the door behind them as Siofra slipped inside.
She seemed so unstable, her composure faltering. For the first time, he watched Siofra's hands tremble slightly at her sides, her gaze flickering around the room.
She began pacing back and forth in front of him.
"I don't know what to do," she began. He wondered if perhaps she needed to coach herself. "She's going to attend the Final Ceremony now, she won't listen to me."
"Slow down," Sorein said, stepping in front of her. "What happened?"
Siofra's lips pursed, her arms crossing. "I begged her not to go to the Final Ceremony... Begged her and she wouldn't listen to me. I need you... I need you to go find her and tell her to stay in her room tonight, Sorein."
