I used to love the night. It was peaceful without the stress of the day, and looking up at the Milky Way shimmering overhead always brought me a sense of wonder. These days, all I can hear are the screams.

  The world is filled with darkness, even during daylight, even in pces it should have long since been banished, and that's without even getting into the actual monsters.

  I'm Deliah Drake, cheerleading captain, homecoming queen ( as of twenty minutes ago!), and supernatural investigator. You probably think the first two would be meaningless under the weight of the third, but that's only if you've never been a girl in high school. It really is murder, some days literally, and not just because our mascot is a Dire Raven.

  There have been a lot of creeps out tonight, the monstrous kind, that is, but they aren't doing anything. It's weird. The supernatural might not be human, but I don't need to pick fights either. If they aren't doing anything against other humans, I'm safe to ignore it for now.

  Sometimes, that's kicked me in the ass, literally, but I'm one person. I'm not chosen; there's no special destiny; I just want to help people, human or creep, if they need it.

  Creep is a catchall phrase and one I can safely use around my friends, around people who have no idea about all the horrors that lurk in the night. It's rude, and I make it a point to use it sparingly; I don't need to become a monster myself.

  Homecoming was fun, and not just because I won-but now it's time to head home. Well, that's why I told the girls anyway. I need to check my mailbox and see if there are any cases I need to start working on. Small things have a way of dovetailing into something rger—sometimes catastrophic.

  There's a deliberate scuffle of feet on the pavement to alert me of their presence. A creep, then. They're always cautious if they approach me.

  "Deliah Drake, good evening." A very familiar voice says, familiar enough; I'm reaching for my concealed daggers even as I turn around. This homecoming dress not only has pockets but also hidden ones.

  "Madame Fête, good evening." I'm not sure if that's her real name or if she even has one. It's not like she would tell me either way. Usually, she reminds me a little bit of a fortune teller; the orbs that circle her body only enhance that perception. There are half a dozen tonight, so I'll need to be careful. I've seen all manner of elemental attacks surge out of them before.

  Thankfully, it was not directed at me, but there's a first and st time for everything. I hope tonight isn't the st. I didn't get to kiss Becca Robinson tonight, but maybe next time—maybe next life—if this goes poorly.

  It's how she's dressed that really surprises me. It's fancy, really fancy. Fancier than me, and that's almost offensive. I'm queen, me. I have the sash in my purse and everything, and here's Madame Fête wearing enough jewellery to make the crown jewels look like costume jewellery. Not to mention her dress (a literal ball gown; I'm insanely jealous)—it's gorgeous.

  There's a flicker of motion on my right, and that's when I notice some of the creeps from earlier have lined the streets on both sides. I'm boxed in. They're all cloaked, and I'm not sure what they are; that's troubling.

  Whatever this is, I need to get some distance and fast. Activating my shimmer takes half a second if I need to use it, but the cooldown is my biggest concern. There are creeps as far as my eyes can see. I don't have the range to clear them. That's what I get for wearing my Louboutins and not my seven-league boots tonight, but they totally don't match my dress. My mistake.

  Hopefully, it's not my st.

  "Peace, Deliah, we did not come to quarrel."

  As far as I know, Madame Fête has never lied to me, but she's never had cause before, either.

  "You'll have to forgive some scepticism on my part; I'm feeling a little boxed in at the moment." I don't like these odds at all. I might have to zip up and over and bolt straight home if things get messy. I'm not ruining this dress!

  My daggers are reassuring, my sunrise and sunset, and if I need them to, they can become eclipse.

  Madame Fête ughs, and it's like nails on a chalkboard, or at least how I imagine it from movies. We have markerboards now, thank you very much. "Quite understandable, young one, absolutely so, and on any other evening, I would enjoy the thrill of your implication, but not tonight."

  Yeah, she's going to be a problem. Maybe not tonight, probably not, anyway, but one night and soon. She wants a fight, to test me, and sooner or ter, she's going to come for one.

  I'll need to be ready.

  Creeps don't lie, not outright, so it's retively safe to gather my dress up (carefully!) with my daggers in hand and curtsy. "Then how may I assist you this evening?"

  "I have come bearing an invitation." Madame Fête motions with her right hand, and a ghoul walks into view, thankfully from directly within my line of sight. It's holding a bck pillow with a white envelope perched on top of it. I can't make out the sigil on the wax seal, not from this distance, not in the dark, but there are really only a few people who would send for me with this show of force. Imagined or otherwise.

  The sigil burns like an ember now that the ghoul is closer, and that wipes away any confusion about the who. Why would Morrigan send for me?

  Morrigan Moonscar, thankfully not the Irish Morrigan; I don't need a Goddess with a grudge after me. Queen of the Eternal Night, and yes, she's a vampire, the vampire, at least for North America, the continent, not just one country.

  She's a monster, figuratively and literally, but as a rule, she doesn't hunt humans. Oh, she wants to. The few times we've met, she felt like she was stalking me in the predatory sense, but she's also smart enough to know that there are far too many humans to hunt us openly.

  Plus, there are easier ways to get blood, like paying for it. One of the many benefits of being immortal is that Morrigan is exceptionally wealthy, and a lot of people are willing to donate blood for money. I don't bme them. I've been to the blood clinics Morrigan runs just to check them out for any irregurities. So far, there's been none, and I'm starting to get tempted myself. Clothes are expensive, and I need to look fabulous.

  I sheath my daggers, returning them to their hidden pockets, but my shimmer is almost boiling. It's half-activated, and there's enough energy floating around me that, as far as my eyes are concerned, it might as well be daytime.

  I can see everything.

  Ghouls can speak, but they've never talked to me, but they're sentient. It's important to be polite, just in general, but especially with the supernatural. It's simple enough to say "Thank you." as I take the invitation and break the seal.

  Let's see what this is about.

  Miss Deliah Drake, Paranormal Detective.

  The honour of your presence is cordially requested at this year's Gravesend Ball, to be held on October 19th at Midnight at the Moonscar estate.

  Please RSVP directly to the invitation bearer, and Madame Fête will convey you to the event. Violence is prohibited at this event, by my word and deed. Your safety is assured so long as you do not break the prohibition yourself.

  I hope to see you there.

  Morrigan Moonscar. Queen of Eternal Night.CEO of Nocturne Industries.

  A ball! Calm down, girl. Yes, I've wanted to go to a ball since the first time I watched Beauty and the Beast, but it's a ball! Who doesn't want to go to a ball? Boring people, that's who. Yes, Homecoming was fun, but it was just a dance, a fancy one. Sure, but this is a ball, ball.

  Don't giggle, Deliah. It will break your mystique. Okay, maybe just one.

  The invitation said to RSVP to the invitation holder, so I'll address the ghoul and Madame Fête at the same time.

  "It would be my pleasure to attend." Especially since I don’t have a curfew tonight, it’s Homecoming and I told my foster parents I wouldn’t be home until te tomorrow.

  One less thing to worry about.

  Flickers of haze fsh across my vision, and the ghoul in front of me and all the creeps lining the streets vanish. It's simir to my shimmer. I'm gd that I held back from running. Not only would I probably not have gotten anywhere, but I might have missed the invitation to the ball.

  There's a clopping sound coming from behind me, and my jaw drops open when a horse-drawn carriage is making its way down the street.

  Horses!

  There are six of them; they're gorgeous, sleek bck manes with silver eyes. I avert my gaze. Just to be safe, I don't think these are normal horses, but I'm not a horse expert either. The carriage is also bck as if it's cut out of the night, fitting for Morrigan.

  The carriage stops right beside me, and I jump when Madam Fête says. "Miss Drake?" I was far too transfixed. I wonder if I can pet the horses?

  Would that be weird?

  "My apologies, Madam Fête. How may I help you?"

  "Are you familiar with a peace bond?"

  Familiar might be an overstatement; I've read about them. They’re enchantments that prevent violence. The invitation did say that violence was prohibited so that tracks.

  "Passingly. It isn't something I've focused on." I'm trying to get a schorship; that has to be my focus right now. There isn't any magic to squeeze more time into the day, I've looked.

  "Allow me to expin. I will cast a temporary enchantment that prevents you from drawing your weapons or utilising your arsenal."

  "How temporary?" Because that kind of magic needs my consent to be cast, but I'm not going to agree without a defined limit.

  "Sunrise, as is traditional."

  There's a slight trap there, but one easy enough to see. "Sunrise tomorrow, October 20th?"

  Madame Fête seems pleased with my crification. She looks much happier than a moment ago. Maybe she's proud, but it's weird coming from her. "Yes, tomorrow. Several hours from now."

  "Then I agree." I really want to get in the carriage and go to the ball, and this seems like a small cost. An extension of trust, but worth it. At least, I hope.

  The orbs drift towards me and spin around me; I can see the delicate threads of magic settling into my clothes. I can still reach into my pockets, but my hands won't grasp my daggers. That's an incredibly fine bit of magic. My shimmer is there, and I can grasp it, but the energy is more like water now than something tangible.

  Maybe it's intent-based? Hopefully, I don't need to find out.

  The doors to the carriage swing open, and spectral stairs flow down. I'm shocked when Madame Fête takes my hand and guides me into one of the seats (these are the softest things I've ever sat on.) My heart is racing!

  Don't get a crush on the hot, evil woman, Deliah. Just because she's treating you like a princess!

  "Madade Fête, may I ask you a few questions?"

  "You may."

  "Wonderful, thank you. Am I dressed appropriately? I was dressed for Homecoming, not a Ball. I wouldn't want to embarrass the hostess." Or myself, if everyone is dressed like Madam Fête, they're more bck tie than fancy dress.

  "Your dress is appropriate; hardly anyone appreciates the cssics anymore. It's far easier to shop at Macy's than find a seamstress in this age."

  "Oh, that's a shame; your gown is gorgeous. I feel underdressed compared to you." Underdressed enough that I'm pying with my hem. I'm supposed to be the best dressed, and at the minimum, I'm going to be in second pce, but something tells me I'm pying for third or fourth. Which really sucks; it isn't a position I've been in before.

  I assume we're moving, but I can't feel any vibrations—probably another enchantment. Tonight, I need to be on my best behaviour. As a rule, I don't mess with vampires. They can ruin my life legally without any problems. One of the many advantages of being immortal is that they're all rich and established—the old money of old money.

  "Perhaps we could make arrangements in advance in the future. I apologise for the teness of tonight's invitation; there was much debate about your presence."

  The future implies that more invitations are to come. More Balls! Oh my gosh. It's a struggle not to kick my feet in excitement.

  "I'm grateful for the invitation, deyed or otherwise. It's a genuine honour." Tonight doesn't feel like an actual trap. Oh, there's probably something political going on, but nothing immediately dangerous.

  "You've helped both sides of the line, and unlike some mortals, you don't hunt us. I believe you can be trusted to behave yourself."

  Damning with faint praise, but accurate. Far too many humans see something different as inherently evil. To be fair, a lot of the supernatural is dangerous, but if you're smart and tread carefully, you're usually fine. So it's just like existing in public as a woman, especially at night.

  "Thank you, the peace bond and promise of safety at the ball. Is it safe to assume they expire at the same time?"

  Another pleased smile. "Correct, you would be wise to depart well before then." Well, the ball starts at Midnight, so it's a little better than Fairy Godmother's stroke of Midnight, I'll need to make sure I don't lose a shoe.

  I can probably get away with another two questions before I press my luck, so I should make them count. "Is there an hour of departure that wouldn't be considered rude?"

  "Any time past five in the morning would be permissible. If you have any further questions, we'll be arriving momentarily."

  Good timing then, or pnned that way, but thankfully, there really is just one burning question I have left. "Is the food and drink safe and healthy for a mortal to consume?"

  "Some items will be marked with a crescent moon on their title card. You should avoid those; otherwise, yes."

  There's a faint shimmer in the air ahead of us, and I shiver as it washes over me, wards, probably for the manor. It has to be; they're strong, like walking through getin. The energy feels like it's clinging to me, but it's comforting.

  "Thank you, Madame Fête, for answering my questions and providing the escort. It was kind of you." It was also nice to actually speak with her. We've never fought before, and I'm going to do my damndest to make sure we never do.

  "It was my duty, child, but I do so willingly, and your presence was welcome. As you are no doubt aware, we have arrived." Part of me is offended by her calling me 'child.' Still, if rumours in the community are to be believed, she's over a millennia old. No one will confirm. If it's rude to discuss a woman's age, it's an ill omen to discuss Madame Fête's.

  The carriage door opens, and a hand appears. Madame Fête takes it and steps down from the carriage. As I start to slide across, my door opens, and I just know I'm blushing. Whoops. Thankfully, I had barely moved, and it only took a second to grab the extended hand. It's warm, surprisingly so, and feminine.

  "Careful with your footing, Miss; the cobblestones might catch your heels." The warning is appreciated, especially since I wobble a little after stepping off the spectral stairs and onto the cobblestone.

  "Thank you?"

  My escort smiles, and I notice orange eyes for the first time. She's wearing some kind of staff uniform; it's cute, and so is she. "Aurora, Miss Drake." My reputation precedes me, or more likely, Aurora knew who to expect tonight. I prefer the former if I'm being honest. Being rger than life has its uses.

  "Thank you, Aurora, for both the warning and the assistance."

  "It's my pleasure, I'll be escorting you into the ball and announcing you."

  I gnce around for Madame Fête, but she's nowhere to be seen. I'm not surprised; she has that habit of appearing and vanishing just as quickly. Tonight was the longest I've been in her presence ever, and I'm gd for that. If it ever comes down to a fight, I'm running fast.

  Tonight has barely started—well, it's been going for a while now. It is almost midnight, but I've already learned a lot. Shoot my shot when I have the chance next time, and don't hesitate when there's a girl you want to kiss in the room. More importantly, I need to spend some time refining my shimmer. I want to chain several activations together, just in case. Maybe something simir to a revolver?

  I'll have to do some design work and research. Shit. Oh, sleep, I miss you already.

  "Then I pce myself into your care, Aurora." The horses nicker, and I smile at them. "And thank you for the ride." I don't have any apples or things to feed the horses with; maybe I should carry some from now on. Another thing to think about, ahh!

  "This way, Miss."

  Oh, right, the ball. Aurora takes my arm and carefully guides me across the cobblestones. It's almost like I'm floating. The manor grounds are gorgeous; I'd love more time to explore them. The hedge maze is particurly tempting, but I'm not an idiot either. It's a full moon, and it's nearly Midnight. Going in is asking for trouble.

  Once we get close, the doors to the manor swing open, and the house is an odd mix of cssic architecture and modern amenities. It's nicely woven together, but seeing it is jarring. That's my biases at py, and I need to be careful about those, especially tonight.

  "Please wait here, Miss Drake. When I announce you, please step through the curtain and down, and please be careful on the stairs."

  I've watched Bridgerton, and that is probably as good of a guideline as anything.

  "Thank you again, Aurora."

  Aurora checks me out, really checks me out, and that sends a thrill through me. "When my duties are discharged, I'll come find you tonight."

  "I'd like that." I look at her myself, and I like everything I see. There's a hint of a tattoo, but I can't make it out, and I'm incredibly curious about what it is. "I'm sure my dance card will have openings." I doubt they're that interested in engaging with a human. Do they actually use dance cards here? No one mentioned one, so I assume not.

  "You might find yourself surprised, and no, we don't use physical cards anymore. We simply register intent."

  I can't help it; I ugh. "Interest registered, then." Aurora's smile is filled with promises, and then she's gone, and I spin in pce while muffling a squeal. This was so the right choice tonight.

  It's a shame I didn't get to keep the crown, but I understand why the school wouldn't want to buy a new one every year. The sash is much cheaper to repce.

  There's a trumpet or something simir, and then I hear Aurora's voice. Magic must be involved because it feels like she's right beside me.

  "Please welcome our honoured guest, Miss Deliah Drake, Paranormal Detective."

  Okay, here we go. Chin up, Deliah, and strut. I half expected the fsh of cameras, like I was walking onto the red carpet. There aren't any, and I'm honestly thankful for that. Given where I am, I'd probably mistake them for an attack, and that would be embarrassing.

  A proper ballroom, and it's as gorgeous as I hoped; there's even a small stage for an actual band. Say what you will about Morrigan, but she throws a good party.

  I've always wanted to walk down a grand stairway, and tonight, I get to live my dream. There are a lot of familiar species here, and a few I have absolutely no idea about. Even a few humans, maybe. I'll find out in time. I'm the centre of attention right now. People are surprised that I'm here, and some are pointing and hushed conversations happening. Good. I'm gd I'm not the only one who was surprised.

  A voice speaks to me as I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Miss Drake, what a surprise to see you tonight. You look lovely."

  Leon Vanderbilt is immortal, though I don't know how. He isn't a vampire, though, and unfortunately, that just makes him more dangerous—unknown adversaries always are. We had a bit of a tangle st month. We were both searching for the same thing, and we both walked away empty-handed.

  I'm not holding a grudge; business is business, and my involvement was a personal interest, not a case, but Leon's might be business. Tonight, at least, I'm safe. Even Leon wouldn't cross Morrigan, not in her own house.

  "Mr Vanderbilt, a pleasure, and thank you for the compliment. You're looking quite distinguished yourself." If that coal-coloured suit isn't made of silk, I'll eat my sash. Curtsying without my daggers in hand is a lot easier. Note to self, find a weapon I can wield hands-free, just in case.

  Leon gestures around the room. "Your presence has caused quite the stir; Morrigan kept your invitation a secret until the st possible minute, it seems." She did, even from me.

  "It was good fortune that my Homecoming ended before this ball began so that I could attend both."

  "You looked quite regal coming down the stairs. Is it a fair guess that you were Homecoming Queen?"

  "Both fair and accurate, yes, but nevertheless, thank you."

  People are watching us, and who knows how many more are listening. Our scuffle isn't exactly a secret, not in supernatural communities anyway. Part of me wonders if this is a test, proof that I'll behave myself. I wouldn't put it past Morrigan.

  "It would be rude to discuss business at length tonight, my dear, but I would be interested in engaging your services in the near future regarding an item we both have an interest in." That's one way to settle things between us, and I'm pretty happy to resolve things peacefully.

  "I look forward to your call."

  There's a single cp of someone's hands, and I notice one of the unknown potential humans has approached while I was busy with Leon. Far too close for me to only see her when she drew my attention to her, and not just because she's almost too pretty to be human, tall too. Closer to seven feet tall than not. For all her beauty and her height, my concern is just how quietly she approached. If this was combat, I would be dead right now.

  Who is she and what?

  "Leon dear, are you hogging the guest of honour?" The woman extends a hand to me, and not for a handshake. It's simple to lightly grasp her hand and kiss the back of her hand. "It's wonderful to meet you Deliah, truly wonderful, and such good manners. You are a treasure." She tilts our joined hands until she can kiss the top of my hand in return. "I'm Rosaria"

  While it's good to have her name, it isn't remotely familiar. The really interesting thing is how Leon is acting, like a mouse confronted by a cat. He's barely breathed since Rosaria appeared.

  Who is she?

  "A pleasure. I'm Deliah, though you knew that already." Especially since she called me the guest of honour.

  "My darling, would you care for a drink?" Something about Rosaria calling me darling thrills me, and it's something to be wary of. It reminds me of standing too close to a bass, and that's without factoring in that I don't know what she is. Not human, unfortunately, doesn't narrow it down.

  The world really is much stranger than most people know.

  I'm underage, in the mortal world, the supernatural doesn't care, and what teenager these days hasn't had a few drinks? Very few, and certainly not this one. The number of parties I've been to with liquor is higher than my number of birthdays.

  "I'm certain that I could be tempted. Do you have a recommendation?"

  There's a minor twitch of Rosaria's lips when I say 'tempted', but she looks directly at Leon, and I swear he flinches. "Leon, would you be a dear and fetch us two Ambrosias?"

  "Yes, Lady Rosaria. Please excuse me, Miss Drake." And then he walks away faster than I've ever seen him move, even in combat, and that's good to know. Leon is a lot faster than I thought. My earlier decision to refine my shimmer has become a lot more urgent.

  Lady now isn't that interesting. Rosaria certainly didn't use a title when she introduced herself.

  "He'll be a few minutes, Deliah. The bar is quite busy tonight."

  "I appreciate your assistance and guidance."

  "A dance ter this evening would be suitable compensation if you're amenable to the fairer sex."

  Quite so, and it looks like Aurora was right; my dance card is rapidly filling up. Another night, another event, I might avoid Rosaria; she seems far too dangerous to flirt with long-term, but tonight, I'm as safe as I can be. Honestly, it's nice to let my hair down and rex for once.

  "Quite amenable, a preference one might say." Maybe tonight will end with a kiss from a beautiful woman, after all. Thinking back to Aurora, maybe more than one.

  What? Girls are hot, and I'm single.

  "How wonderful, darling. Now, what business was Leon boring you with tonight?" There's another beat of bass on the word 'darling', and it only happens on that single word, not my name.

  What is it?

  "I'm sure you heard about our tussle. Leon is requesting my assistance to resolve things in a mutually beneficial manner." In theory, anyway. It really depends on what Leon wants the gem for.

  There's a smirk on her lips, and I'm suddenly very aware of the space around us; the rest of the guests are giving us a wide berth. Enough to give me even more pause, even with Leon's deference.

  What is the bass?

  Fingers dart out and start tracing down my left arm; goosebumps follow after every touch. "The twilight star would be a nice feather in Leon's hat. I can think of all kinds of uses for it myself, but whatever was your interest?"

  It's pretty, and while it's not technically a diamond, it looks like one, and I wanted it for my bedroom. A girl should have a small horde of gemstones for aesthetics, if nothing else. I'm sure I would have eventually found an actual use for it. I'm still growing my magical arsenal, and securing anything that's up for grabs is just smart.

  "I think it's pretty." Wait, why did I say that? I should have said something more professional. Rosaria has her fingers dancing still, and the truth isn't an attack, not technically, but it's also not welcomed, either. "Is that a passive or active ability?"

  There's an air of mischief before Rosaria withdraws her fingers. Unfortunately, they were pleasant, but it's probably for the best. Leon will be back soon, and I don't want to offend him by speaking a truth that I'd rather keep to myself, at least right now. "Passive, but active when I touch another. A bad habit, I apologise, Ms Drake."

  Ms Drake, is it? Before I was Deliah or darling, that's interesting. Because of the faux pas or something else? It's interesting.

  "No harm done, but a second dance after our promised first certainly wouldn't go amiss." Rosaria nods and appears satisfied. Is it stupid to ask for a second dance? Absolutely, but I can safely let my hair down tonight. I might as well take advantage. "Is the hostess herself present? It would be rude not to thank her directly for the invitation."

  "So eager to be away from me, darling?" There's another beat of bass on the word 'darling', and that's something I'm going to need to keep an eye on. Rosaria has already proven that, unlike my weapons, some of her talents are still active.

  Who knows what else she can do?

  She's waiting for an answer, and yes, flirting is probably a bad idea, but tonight is a series of games and if flirting is how Rosaria wants to py this game. Well, there's an easy solution to that if a bold one. I reach out, grab her hand, and curl my fingers around hers. "Quite the opposite, I'm enjoying your company. I think it's a shame we were never introduced before tonight. I'm looking forward to our dances ter. Morrigan, however, deserves my respect and appreciation."

  "Ah, to be so young. I may come by your office in the coming weeks to see how we might help one another." Office is a generous word for my work space, it's basically a closet in the building where my mailbox is. I have my eyes on a few rger locations, but budget continues to be an issue. Despite my best attempts, I haven't actually found any buried treasure yet. "To answer your question, Morrigan will be here shortly; if you'd like, I would be happy to escort you to her."

  There's the soft pattering of feet, and I assume it's Leon, but regardless, I should wrap this up. "I would quite like that. Thank you." Stupid truth field.

  "Lady Rosaria, Ms Drake, here are your drinks."

  Leon's standing close, and to my surprise, he's only holding two drinks—they're a faint peach colour. I half expected him to come back with three or with a waitress. I really, really need to find out who Rosaria is and what.

  "Thank you, Leon."

  I let go of Rosaria's hand and gently wrap my fingers around the stem of the gss that Leon has extended out towards me. "Yes, thank you, Mr Vanderbilt."

  My arsenal might be limited by the peace bond. However, much like Rosaria's ability to compel the truth, I can still check for toxins or additives in drinks. It's something I made for my high school parties, and they've unfortunately come in handy a few times. Tonight especially, I'd rather be safe than sorry. As I turn back to Rosaria, I run my index finger around the rim of the gss, and thankfully, there's not even a single vibration from my earrings.

  Perfectly safe, then.

  "A pleasure, dies." Leon gnces around the room before he turns back to us. "If you would excuse me, another guest is trying to get my attention." And after a shallow bow, he walks away.

  Good riddance.

  A chime washes over the room, and a voice comes from all around me. "Honoured guests, it is my pleasure to introduce your hostess, Morrigan Moonscar and her daughter, Annabeth."

  Ugh, Annabeth. Of course, she's here. It makes sense; it's her Mother's party, but I was hoping to avoid her. Even worse, she's dressed way nicer than I am, and so is her Mother. They both look exquisite as they walk down the stairs. Wearing full evening gowns like Madam Fête, and I'm positive they're directly from a seamstress with how perfectly tailored they are. I expected it, but it still burns me that Annabeth, of all people, is prettier than I am tonight.

  How dare she.

  "Miss Drake, if you're ready, let me convey you to our Hostess."

  I haven't touched my drink, and I'm not actually sure about the etiquette of greeting Morrigan with something in hand; plus, it's taking way too much of my self-control to keep from gring at Annabeth and her perfect smug face.

  "In a moment, perhaps. I haven't had a chance to enjoy a drink with you, and it feels rude to waste your effort." Well, Leon's effort, but by her word, and that's as good as doing it herself.

  If Rosaria's expression, the quirked brow, and the upturned corners of her mouth are any indication, she's fully aware that I'm purposely deying, but thankfully, she doesn't call me out on it either. "Well, in that case, a toast, Ms Drake, to you and the work you do."

  As my gss rings against Rosaria's, I smile at her. "And to you, Lady Rosaria, for your assistance and guidance."

  The drink, the ambrosia, though likely not actual ambrosia, though I wouldn't entirely put it past this crowd, is sweet, a little tart, but quite lovely. I might need to ask someone at another point exactly what it's made out of. If it's remotely affordable, ambrosia might be fun to introduce at my next party.

  Rosario's fingers start dancing long on my left arm again, and it's distracting, even without the truth field she's projecting or whatever. "You know, Deliah. We could just get out of here, go somewhere private." Forget about subtext; Rosaria's tone is writ rge with bolded, underlined intent, and the font is filthy. I'm safe here, at this party, for a few hours, but the moment I step outside the grounds, it's potentially a free-for-all, and my equipment isn't going to be functional for hours.

  My office is shielded, as best I can, but if Leon is wary of Rosaria, it might not be enough. It also means I'm not stupid enough to wander off alone with her tonight, maybe ever.

  I take another sip of my drink to buy myself a moment. Harmless flirting is one thing, but I don't need to invite retaliation for poor manners. I might be safe tonight, but there's absolutely nothing stopping Rosaria finding me ter. "A kind offer, and one I regrettably need to decline. It would be horribly rude to our hostess."

  To my utter shock, Rosaria ughs in a good-natured way. "A good answer, Miss Drake. You might be young, but you certainly don't ck understanding. Well done."

  A test, how interesting, but test or not, there's a genuine gleam of interest in Rosaria's eyes. I might have answered to her satisfaction, but if I had agreed, I doubt Rosaria would have declined. That makes her even more dangerous. I polish off the rest of my drink, and conveniently, a member of the staff is immediately at hand to take the empty gss and Rosaria's as well; I hadn't noticed her empty it. For all the many, varied things I can say about Morrigan, her staff is incredible.

  With my hands empty, I can curtsey because deferring to Rosaria is one of my highest priorities right now. "Thank you for the conversation and, in a moment, for the escort. I look forward to our dances."

  "As do I." Rosaria links arms with me and slowly leads me across the ballroom. My eyes quickly focus on and then move away just as quickly; we're followed by a chorus of hushed whispers.

  Morrigan is even prettier up close. I think there are actual diamonds sewn into her dress; it's beyond gorgeous. Thankfully, Annabeth isn't anywhere in sight at the moment. That just proves that deying my introduction was the right choice. I'm hoping I can avoid her tonight.

  "Lady Moonscar."

  "Lady Rosaria, how wonderful to see you." Eyes flick down to me and away dismissively before they dart back in surprise. Morrigan thought I was an accessory, not a guest. That's something I'll need to interrogate ter because it informs an awful lot about both Morrigan and Rosaria. "And Miss Drake, a genuine pleasure." I have my doubts about that, but I'll withhold judgment until tonight is over. With any luck, answers will be forthcoming.

  "Lady Moonscar, thank you for the invitation and for welcoming me into your home." My curtsy is low, but deference isn't a bad thing right now. Especially when the eyes of the entire ballroom are on us. I like being the centre of attention, but on my terms, this is almost uncomfortable.

  "An invitation was warranted; I was unaware that the two of you were acquainted. I'd love to hear how that came about." Morrigan’s eyes are sharp, but they’re mostly watching Rosaria. It’s interesting.

  Rosaria curls her arm around my waist; it's almost possessive, and I have conflicted feelings about it. It feels amazing; she's a lot stronger than her frame would suggest. I hadn't noticed it with our linked arms, but I don't actually think I could get away from her if I tried. Good to know, but it's also kind of nice. "Leon was bothering her with business, if you'd believe it, the absolute bore. I had to intervene for the poor darling." This time, the bass from 'Darling' feels like it's rattling my skeleton. Is it because we're pressed up against one another?

  The two other women share a look, and while neither rolls her eyes, I get the impression they would if they weren't too dignified. "It's appreciated. I absolutely adore your gown, Lady Moonscar, word fail." Mostly because jealousy is my dominant emotion right now, and the rest of my brain power is being dedicated to not making an enemy of Morrigan.

  "Thank you. Your dress is lovely as well. I believe it was your Homecoming this evening."

  "It was; Madame Fête's timing was impeccable; thank you again for arranging the carriage."I still really want to pet the horses, but I doubt I'll have a chance tonight.

  "A Homecoming Queen should arrive and depart in style, don't you agree?"

  I didn't tell Morrigan that; I haven't had time. I have to suppress a squeal though. Morrigan said to depart, which means I'll have another opportunity to pet the horses and get a ride home ter. I really wasn't looking forward to walking home in these shoes.

  Did someone overhear me mention it to Leon and report back, or has someone been watching me tonight? Okay, stupid question. Madame Fête and her entourage were watching for me earlier. I didn't sense any Creeps at the dance, but one of my cssmates or even a teacher could be trading information. It wouldn't be the first time. It was annoying then, and it would be annoying now. I spend too many hours at school as is; needing to investigate it is such a hassle. I resist the urge to sigh; my to-do list is multiplying by the second.

  Incidentally, I wonder how Madison is doing these days. She was a good flyer, and losing her sucked, and we were friends for years before that. Despite the betrayal, I miss her.

  "I do." A chime cuts me off; how annoying.

  "Deliah, if you'll excuse me. I have a little speech to make, and then the ball will begin. How full is your dance card?"

  Morrigan wants to dance with me? It's a power move, right? Show the entire room that we're on good terms or something? I'm not opposed; she's stunning; it's just surprising enough that I have to focus on keeping my hands from fluttering.

  "Three cims so far, two belonging to Lady Rosaria."

  "Wonderful, please excuse me." Then Morrigan leaves, and the light shimmering off of her diamonds is almost mesmerising. There's a pattern to the diamonds, but I can't quite make it out. Knowing what I do about Morrigan, it's likely a consteltion.

  The arm around my waist tightens for a moment, and when I gnce up at Rosaria, she smiles at me, and I swear there's a gleam in her eyes. "Quite alright, darling?" The beat is almost comforting now.

  "I'm just wonderful. I've never been this close to Morrigan before; she's stunning." Impressive, I meant to say impressive, and I really need to be more careful around Rosaria. It's far too easy for me to be distracted by the surface. A beautiful, older woman has her arm around me, and she's treating me like a princess. I need to keep everything else in mind; Rosaria is an entirely unknown person and entity; right now, there are only a few things that I know about her, and while she's been kind to me, it may not be without purpose. I mentally roll my eyes; there's totally a purpose; what am I even thinking?

  Focus, Deliah.

  "Such a wonderful eye, Deliah. How is it that we've never been introduced before?"

  "I can only assume ill fortune." Or good, but I'm hopeful that crossing paths with Rosaria tonight doesn't lead to future problems. When it comes to the supernatural, it's always better to be safe than sorry or worse. "It's just one more thing to be thankful to Morrigan for."

  A chime washes through the ballroom, and Rosaria raises her left index finger to her lips. It's best to follow her lead, and our conversation can wait, especially since Morrigan just walked out onto the stage. The additional lights make the glow of her dress even more apparent. When I get her alone, I'll need to ask.

  "Thank you all for attending this year's Gravesend Ball. Whether it's your first or your hundredth, welcome one and all. I'm happy to announce that outside of our lovely string quartet, we have a special surprise for you; Aoife Quinn will be performing at different points this evening."

  "My, my," Rosaria says very softly. She sounds impressed, and she isn't the only one; there's a small smattering of conversation happening all around us, but that name isn't remotely familiar to me.

  "Yes, I pyed that surprise quite close to my chest. Tonight is our night, and it should always have unexpected elements, so drink, dance and enjoy yourselves."

  Someone cps, and I join in after a minute's hesitation. I really feel out of my depth tonight, I'm reacting, and it's incredibly annoying. Hopefully, once the dancing starts, I can find my own rhythm.

  "It seems that you chose well in attending tonight, Deliah."

  Rosaria's truth field, or whatever it is, is annoying. The moment I rex, whatever's on my mind seems to jump forward, but I can be selective in my truths as long as I'm paying attention. "In ways other than your company?"

  "For someone who declined my earlier invitation for a private party of our own, you're proving to be quite the flirt, Deliah."

  There are two of us pying this game, but it's probably more dangerous for me. I'm the one almost entirely out of my depth; even so, I'm having fun, and what's life without a bit of danger? "So says the woman who can't keep her hands off of me."

  "Just keeping you at hand, Deliah, someone might steal your first dance from me, and we can't have that, can we, my darling?"

  There's another beat of bass when she says 'darling', and that's one time too many. I push against it, wrapping my own energy around me like a protective cocoon. For a single instant, I swear Rosaria's pupils turned cat-like, it might just have been the lighting, but I doubt it. Maybe on another night, at another location, I might dismiss it, but not now.

  Rosaria uses truth somehow and compels people she's in contact with to speak it. Can she speak the truth into the world? True names aren't a thing, at least not something I've run across in any of my readings. There are no Rumplestilskins here, but that doesn't mean Rosaria isn't shaping a truth somehow. 'Darling' is familiar, affectionate. I'm definitely more rexed with her than I should be, even tonight.

  The cocoon might be taxing, but I'll keep it up for now. Usually, the only exterior magic is the shielding for my house and office and the direct links to my equipment. I can reflect over the weekend and see if there are any threads attached to me that shouldn't be, just to be safe.

  I've been keeping an eye on the ballroom, and I haven't noticed anyone really looking at me, not the way Rosaria, Aurora, or even Morrigan did. If anyone else is interested, they're pying their cards close to their chest.

  "I wasn't aware you had a lot of competition, Rosaria. Are there perhaps suitors I've missed this evening?"

  Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't for Rosaria to toss her head back with a throaty ugh. "That competition started well before tonight. Mortals with your talents and temperament are rare. It's part of why you're here tonight."

  My eyes widen before I can restrain the impulse. That phrasing implies Rosaria isn't mortal, and before now, I only suspected the truth; confirmation helps a lot. I knew the paranormal community was aware of me; it's unavoidable, and if I'm being honest, it's probably Avril's fault; her case, my very first case, fully brought me into this life, but when you hear a woman scream in the dark and you're able to help; you help. Because it’s the right thing to do, and someday, you might be the one screaming, and desperately hoping someone will come and help you.

  I've been lucky so far, but natural talent can only get me so far. Materials are expensive, and time is precious, and I refuse to let go of my life. Cheerleader captain, homecoming queen, straight-A student. They might not define my worth as a person, but I define myself by them.

  The string quartet starts to py something. It sounds familiar, but I have no idea what it is. Cssical music isn't really something I've looked into in depth. I probably just heard it somewhere on a TV show or in a movie.

  Rosaria's arm around my waist tightens, and I'm suddenly pressed against her as she fluidly transitions from standing directly to leading me through a waltz in a single movement.

  I've practised a waltz, dance lessons helped a lot so it only takes a few (very normal) beats of my heart to be something other than limp in Rosaria's arms, and then everything really is perfect. Practice is one thing, but the real thing is incredible, and I may need to look at new jewellery. A tiara or circlet would help me feel like a princess—well, more like a princess.

  It would be expensive, and wearing costume jewellery to an event like this would be more embarrassing than not wearing any.

  Thankfully, I can talk and dance, though. Answers don't need to wait. At least once I have my breath back, I decide to start asking. "What exactly do you mean?" I've been assuming that Morrigan invited me to prove a point to someone, a rival most likely, but that's a guess at best.

  "After the dance, darling. There's no reason to sully this moment with business. Do we?" The cocoon buffers the bass almost entirely; it's like a whisper now.

  What I really need is more information on Rosaria, other than the fact that people I'm wary of are intimidated by her. "In that case, you're a very skilled dancer. Are you cssically trained?"

  "In a way, yes. I learned some time ago. You seem quite light on your feet yourself. Are you a gymnast?"

  Now, that's interesting, does Rosaria not know, or is she just making conversation? Right now, it hardly matters, but it's something to keep in mind for ter. We're still dancing in small circles, and I probably should have asked before we started what style of waltz we're doing. I'm familiar with the standard, but if Rosaria is used to a different style or uses flourishes, it might take me a moment to catch on.

  "After a fashion, I'm a cheerleader, though a decent gymnast as well." Enough that I've subbed in for members of the actual gymnastics team more than once. Becca runs a tight ship, and she's demanding, but working with her improved my form a lot. I push my team hard, and I push myself harder. I had more to say, more questions to ask, but as Rosaria leans forward, dipping me, my breath catches and my thoughts scatter, so does the cocoon for a single moment.

  There's a quirk to Rosaria's lips, and it only grows as I purse my lips. Is she about to kiss me? A dip would be the perfect time, and it would be romantic, too. Unfortunately, after holding the dip for a moment, she pulls herself upright just as the song ends.

  As her hands drop to her side, I dip down into a curtsey. "Thank you for the dance. I need a bit of refreshment. Would you care for anything?" I'm torn about whether I should actually drink, but my mouth feels a little dry, so something is warranted. I'm just not sure about more alcohol.

  To my surprise, Rosaria returned my curtsey exactly as deeply as mine was. "Thank you as well. It was lovely. I look forward to our second." She gnces off to the side so quickly that I can't see who or what she just looked at. "I regretfully need to excuse myself temporarily. Later this evening, however, I'll take you up on your offer."

  A little formality wouldn't be amiss, so. "Until ter, then, Lady Rosaria."

  "Until then, Miss Drake."

  I wait a single moment until Rosaria starts to walk away before I make my way towards the bar. People are dancing, and I'm doing my best to move around them to get completely off the dance floor.

  Looking for openings between the partners is hard, and some groups are three or more dancing in tandem. It's distracting but amazing to watch. I'm halfway across the ballroom when a delicate yet exceptionally warm hand wraps itself around my wrist with shockingly bck nails. They remind me of obsidian.

  I half expected the hand to belong to a former client or associate, but it doesn't. Whoever this woman is, she's striking, though in an entirely different way than Rosaria. It's remarkably forward for this crowd and borderline rude. A lot of these events run on old-world manners; touching someone without an introduction could be viewed as an insult.

  I'm not sure about her species either; only that she's not human. Her skin has subtle patterns, and if that wasn't a clear enough sign added to everything else, her eyes are red. "Miss Drake, good evening. Could I have a moment of your time?" Her breath is warm, too. All of her seems to be. At a guess, she may be a few degrees warmer than humans typically run.

  Who is she, and why did she stop me?

  Maybe being renowned isn't a good thing. People are greeting me and knowing me, and I have absolutely no idea who or what she is. It's annoying.

  "How might I assist, Miss?"

  "Saturnia of the Fming Veil." Saturnia grins at me, and that's when I notice her teeth are pointed. "Attie to my friends, and I would like to be friends. I saw you with Rosaria and thought I would speak with you."

  That isn't an answer; honestly, it's useless information. The only Saturnia I've heard of is the Roman Goddess, and I somehow doubt Attie is her. Is the Fming Veil a community, a location, or something else altogether? I'll have to do some research when I get home tonight, okay, this morning.

  "I'm happy to make your acquaintance. Lady Rosaria was kind enough to be my first dance this evening." Well, here, I danced plenty at Homecoming. "And please, call me Deliah if I'm to call you Attie." Because refusal to use a nickname would invite trouble.

  "Tread carefully with Rosaria; pretty things like you tend to fall into her orbit and stay there." Attie moves her hand off my wrist and returns it to her side.

  Part of me wants to preen at being called pretty. Yes, it's vanity, but I put a lot of work into my looks. Keeping on top of fashion trends takes a lot of time, and sure, I've considered various ways to automate my daily routines, but gmors are dangerous. I'm not sure I would be able to resist making improvements. I don't need to use a filter in real life, no matter how tempting it sometimes is.

  The other part is fully aware that Rosaria is dangerous—everyone at this party is—and she's been actively influencing me tonight. That knowledge alone isn't enough to keep me away from Rosaria, either. It's probably stupid of me—okay, no, it's absolutely stupid of me—but I'm going to have my second dance with her.

  Later tonight, I can do some research on the various guests I've met and see who I actively need to worry about. Right now, Rosaria is at the top of my list. Hopefully, I don't need to call in too many favours for answers; my Rolodex isn't that deep, and I've been actively avoiding owing favours.

  I don't need to set a precedent or worse.

  Attie's waiting for an answer, though. I'm momentarily distracted by the song changing to something a bit faster and a group of five engaged in some kind of spiraling dance. It reminds me a little of synchronised swimming.

  Absolutely stunning.

  "I can understand why they might, and I appreciate that you took time out of your evening to speak with me. I was heading to the bar for some refreshments. Would you be interested in joining me, Attie?" There's no need to end this conversation so soon; yes, her warning has been received, but there are enough strangers here, and being able to walk with someone whose name I at least know is better than the alternative.

  There's a ripple of surprised excmations moving through the ballroom, even as the quartet finishes their song. Before I can turn to see what's happening, Attie says while pointing towards the centre of the room. "Perhaps another time, Deliah. It seems we're in for a show."

  A woman has made her way onto the stage with long silver hair and eyes bright enough that they feel like they're piercing me from all the way across the room. I have no idea who this is, but if I had to guess, this woman is Aoife Quinn, a suspicion proven true since she starts to sing almost immediately.

  If Rosaria's words were occasionally like a bass, Aoife's haunting tones are a steady drizzle of rain that's sinking into me deeper by the second. My first thought is that she's a Siren, but there's no sense of euphoria; I almost want to call it mencholy. A Banshee, maybe? If so, the song isn't particurly dangerous. An outright wail might be, but a foretelling tonight might actually viote the rules, even as just a warning. My earrings would block most of it. I technically designed that effect for club nights; loud music can be a killer, literally, but I made sure to add some overp in the functionality.

  The song is still going, and I feel almost transfixed. The drizzle has changed to a steady downpour, and then it's like sleet. I honestly feel like my breath should be coming out as a cloud. I'm freezing all of a sudden like I've plunged through some ice.

  A warmth wraps itself around my waist, and it takes me a moment to realise that Attie has her arms around me from behind. I rex into her for a moment as her arms start to chase the chill away.

  Her lips are close to my ear, and there's some amusement when she says. "Surprisingly sensitive, Deliah; no wonder Rosaria sought you out. It will be over in a moment."

  What does that mean? I'll need to figure it out ter, but over would be good. Attie is keeping the worst of the cold away, but it's there. It's simir, maybe, to leaning against a window during a snowstorm. Present, but I'm removed from it.

  It doesn't matter; I'm just gd she's here. Right now, Attie is the only thing keeping me from drowning in the ice.

  Thankfully, the song ends, and I'm suddenly aware of just how reduced my world has become—just Attie and me, her warmth protecting me against the cold. Being fully back in the ballroom is almost overwhelming, the noise of people cpping. I almost robotically raise my hands as Attie drops hers and begins to cp, and I mirror her.

  Once everything dies down and I feel more settled, I turn towards Attie. "Thank you, that was unexpected." My voice feels far away to my ears.

  What was that?

  So much for my earrings, back to the drawing board.

  I don't want to dart my head around, but I quickly gnce around out of the corners of my eyes to see if anyone else is simirly affected by the song. There seem to be a few, but they are all different species.

  There's a sapphic couple where one partner is cradled in her partner's arms like I was with Attie. So, at least, the effect wasn't targeted solely at me.

  Interesting, and yay, more things to research ter. I'm never going to get to sleep at this rate.

  "Trust me, Deliah, unexpected is absolutely correct. I wouldn't have expected that reaction from you, either. Otherwise, I would have warned you. Morrigan likely would have, as well, when you spoke earlier." Back when I felt on dispy, and Attie just confirmed it. We were actively being watched.

  "I think I should get another drink." Not that I wasn't pnning on getting one before the performance, but right now, I need one.

  Aiofe is leaving the stage, and the quartet has started pying again. I really hope that was her first and only performance. I don't think I'm up for a second or more—not without preparation, which requires tools I don't have on me.

  I might need to block sound entirely. Maybe a dial or something simir to modify my earrings? Is this even a sound or something else altogether?

  Fuck it, Everlyn owes me, and I'm calling it in tomorrow. I hate burning favours, but right now, I'm not sure that I have a choice.

  "Let's get you something warm, Deliah. I can chase the gloom away, but not completely, not without being quite invasive, and I doubt you'd be receptive. A young girl like yourself is probably rather shy." Attie's grinning at me, her fangs on clear dispy. I'm not entirely sure what she's implying, but I'm not going to ask.

  My imagination is running wild as is. Right now, though, I'm grateful for the warmth my blush produces; it's almost as soothing as Attie. If anyone sees the blush, hopefully, they'll assume it's from proximity to the warmth wafting from her.

  "A drink sounds lovely, thank you." So does the escort. I don't want to be alone right now.

  The dance floor seems remarkably clear; the couple I spotted a moment ago has vanished, as have quite a few people. Another gnce around shows the bar to be busy, but the ballroom feels emptier. I'm honestly gd I wasn't the only one affected by the song; that makes my reaction less humiliating.

  The crowd at the bar parts as we approach, many stepping aside without drinks, and to my surprise, Rosaria's standing at the front of the line and smiles at me, pleased, and my heart races, at least until she frowns at Attie.

  "Saturnia, I see you found my darling." My cocoon is full of cracks, and this time, the bass causes me to stagger enough that both Attie and Rosaria reach out and grab my arms. "Deliah, are you alright?" Rosaria's tone now shows genuine concern, which is interesting.

  "She's sensitive, Rosaria. Aiofe did a number on her; we were getting refreshments." There's quite a bit of pointed whispering all of a sudden, and I swear the parted crowd is focused directly on me now; it's like they're intently listening.

  Attie's on my left arm, and Rosaria takes my right, and they both walk me to the front of the bar. I'm happy to be skipping the line, but I'm too exposed right now to be on dispy like this.

  "I suppose it's lucky you were with her then, Saturnia." The bartender reminds me of Aurora, I still don't know what their species is, but even so, I find some comfort in the familiarity. It's a shame he isn't Aurora, though. "We'd like two." Rosaria pauses for a single instant. "Make that three Vesuvius's, brimstone rim on one, and make one of the others a double eruption."

  "Yes, Lady Rosaria."

  Okay, drinks sorted, if unhelpfully. Based on the name, I'm going to assume something warm. I need that right now, but both Attie and Rosaria know that.

  "The rim is for me, I believe, Rosaria?" Attie says after a moment.

  "Quite right, the eruption is for my dar-Deliah." Rosaria corrects so fast I almost don't catch it, but I'm gd she did. I need a few minutes, and the cracks in my cocoon are slowly filling in, a lot slower than they should. Attie didn't miss it either; she's giving Rosaria a sharp look.

  Any other time, being on the arms of two women would be amazing, but it's taking a lot of my concentration just to be present right now. It feels like I have a core of ice.

  "It's a good enough choice; the warmth really will help you, Deliah, and far less invasively than other methods." Too invasive for a dance floor, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't be fun. I'm not up to being an exhibition, not tonight, at least. Not while I feel like this.

  Three drinks are deposited onto the bar. Rosaria steps away from me and grabs the darker one before gently pressing it into my hands. "Drink deeply until it's gone. It will burn at first, but it will be pleasant." Even as I take the gss, Rosaria leans against me. She almost feels concerned, which is weird, but I can interrogate that ter.

  A burn would be welcome at this point; I want to describe the fvour as cinnamon's spicier cousin, and liquid smoke. There's a burn, as promised, but somehow, it's sharp, like a hot tub, maybe. It honestly doesn't matter. Right now, it's like I'm being wrapped in a bnket from the inside out, and as I drink, I start feeling more like myself.

  I'm flushed, but it's very pleasant, especially after the st few minutes. Rosaria and Attie are sipping their drinks. Better yet, my cocoon is a lot more solid than it was a minute ago. Plus, it means I can enjoy Attie's hand on my arm and Rosaria pressed against me.

  "Thank you, both. I'm grateful for your assistance."

  There's been a lot of hushed conversations tonight, usually focused around me, but if there was a ripple when Aoife walked onto the stage, there's a wave of conversation currently washing over me, and that's when I feel a very familiar and very unwelcome presence behind me. As I turn, Rosaria and Attie both surprisingly take a single step away from me, but not before Rosaria plucks the now empty gss out of my hand. I come face to face with Annabeth Moonscar, Princess of the Night, and someone I was hoping to avoid tonight, who unexpectedly has her right hand held out to me and says. "Deliah Drake, would you honour me with a dance?"

  Why the hell does she want to dance with me?!

  What do I even say?!