"It's lovely to meet you," Lysara said, accepting the offered champagne flute as Daevyn set it before her. "We only really saw one another at Niava's wedding."
Princess Kaethriel smiled warmly across the table. Up close, she seemed somehow even younger than Lysara had expected. The stories whispered throughout the Winter Court had made the restored Princess into something almost mythical, yet there was nothing intimidating about her. She possessed a quiet warmth that immediately put Lysara at ease.
"Of course," Kaethriel replied. "You were one of Niava's bridesmaids. It was a beautiful wedding."
"It really was."
For a moment, conversation faltered.
Sterling Eastern appeared entirely comfortable with the silence, one hand resting around a tumbler of whisky as his silver eyes wandered thoughtfully across the crowded club. Daevyn, Lysara noticed with sinking disappointment, had already allowed his own attention to drift towards the stage where Aurora's smoky voice floated through the room.
"Sterling tells me you're an artist," Kaethriel said.
Lysara pulled her mind away from the puzzle of Daevyn and the singer and back to the conversation. “Did he?"
It seemed odd that she would be a conversation topic between the couple, and that Sterling would know that much about her… unless Daevyn had spoken of her to him.
She covered her confusion by taking a sip of champagne.
"You are Theron Ashwyn's daughter," Sterling observed. It was not phrased as a question.
"You know my father?"
"I know of him." A faint smile touched Sterling's mouth. "He has built an impressive business in the Human Realm."
"I think Father would be very pleased to hear you say so."
Sterling's phone vibrated softly against the polished tabletop. He glanced down at the screen before emptying the last of his whisky. "We should circulate."
Daevyn nodded, pulling his eyes from the stage. He rose, his hand lingering for just a moment against Lysara's shoulder. "I won't be long."
She forced a smile to her lips. "I'll be fine."
He smiled back before disappearing into the crowd beside Sterling.
Kaethriel watched them go with the resigned amusement of someone who had witnessed the same performance countless times before.
“Daevyn speaks highly of Sterling.” Lysara offered hesitantly.
“Does he?” Kaethriel's brows lifted slightly.
“A business arrangement, more than a friendship?”
“I think that is probably the closest way to describe it,” the princess agreed with a twist of wry amusement. “A few months ago they were trying to kill one another at a ball.”
Lysara blinked. “Surely not.”
Kaethriel laughed softly. “I wish I were exaggerating.”
“And now they seem...” She searched for the word. “Amicable.”
“They've discovered they have rather more in common than either expected.” She turned her champagne flute slowly between her fingers. “House Vale has been... rebuilding for some time.”
The words brought her father's conversation back with uncomfortable clarity. Lysara nodded warily. “Daevyn mentioned that.”
A male singer had replaced Aurora on the stage, crooning a song about betrayal and broken hearts.
“I'm glad.” Kaete hesitated and then leaned forward to touch Lysara’s hand, drawing Lysara’s attention back to the conversation. “A few months ago Lord Vale was pursuing a marriage alliance with House Feywood.”
Lysara tried to understand what the other woman was trying to tell her. “The Feywoods from the Summer Court?”
“Mm.” Kaete nodded. “It seemed a sensible match. An old House marrying another old House.”
“What happened?” The marriage had not gone through, or Daevyn would not now be free to court.
“Father reached another agreement with Lord Vale.”
The princess said it so simply that it took Lysara a moment to understand. “You…?”
Kaethriel gave a small nod. “For about a week I thought I was going to marry Daevyn. I was not excited about the prospect.” She was almost apologetic about it. “Nothing against Daevyn. But, I was already married to Sterling, so I’m sure you can understand…”
Lysara stared at her. “That sounds… complicated.”
“Indeed. But then...” Kaete gestured expansively. “Everything else happened.”
There was enough understatement in those three words to encompass every scandal, betrayal and revelation that had consumed the Winter Court over the past six months.
“And now they're working together,” Lysara wet her lips with her champagne as she tried to make sense of it all.
“Yes.” Kaethriel’s eyes scanned the crowd around them as if making sure they weren’t overheard. “Something I suspect Sterling enjoys rather more than he admit.” Her soft laugh was wry with exasperation and warm with fondness at the same time. “Because Lord Vale was very smug about the arrangement with my father and what that meant for Sterling. And now Sterling is the King's son-in-law and Daevyn is asking his advice.”
"Though I think there's more to it than wounded pride." Her expression became thoughtful. "Sterling has always admired people who build things. Your father built an empire in the Human Realm. Daevyn is trying to rebuild House Vale. I think they understand one another."
Kaethriel watched the dancers for a long moment before speaking again. "There is one more thing I hope you'll forgive me for saying."
Lysara wasn’t sure she could take much more revelation. “Please continue.”
"Heirs don't always have the luxury of making decisions for themselves. Sometimes duty chooses first, and the heart is expected to follow." Kaethriel reached across the table and rested her fingertips lightly against Lysara's hand. “I’m sure you understand?”
Movement near the door marked STAFF caught Lysara's attention.
Aurora stood in the doorway, her silver dress catching the light from the corridor beyond. Daevyn faced her, close enough that there could be no mistaking the intimacy of the conversation, though the orchestra drowned out every word.
She saw Aurora shake her head.
Daevyn reached for her wrist.
Then Aurora's arm swept upwards.
His head jerked sideways.
The nearest conversations faltered as guests turned instinctively towards the disturbance. Aurora pulled herself free without another glance at him and swept back into the club, disappearing into the crowd as she headed towards the front doors.
Daevyn remained where he was for a moment, one hand lifting absently to his cheek. Then he looked up.
His gaze found Lysara's across the room. Colour rose immediately beneath his skin.
Straightening his jacket with unnecessary precision, he made his way back through the club. He had scarcely crossed half the room before an older Lord caught him by the shoulder, laughing as he offered some comment that made the small group around him grin. Daevyn answered with an embarrassed smile and a brief reply that earned another ripple of amusement before they finally released him.
Beside her, Kaethriel quietly set down her champagne. "I think I'll leave you to finish your evening," she said gently, rising from her chair.
Lysara stood automatically. "It was lovely to meet you,” she uttered numbly, her mind on the little scene and the man crossing towards her.
"And you." Kaethriel smiled warmly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the crowd in search of Sterling.
By the time Lysara resumed her seat, Daevyn had reached the table.
He sat opposite her with a quiet sigh, his fingers turning the empty champagne flute by its stem. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "That wasn't how I'd imagined tonight ending."
Lysara offered him a small tight smile. "You don't have to explain." It shouldn’t hurt so much, she told herself. And yet it did.
"I'd rather you didn't leave wondering." Despite saying so, he was silent for a heartbeat before continuing. "Aurora and I have... history." His eyes remained on the glass between his hands. "It's over now. She didn't take it particularly well."
"I see."
And strangely, she found that she did, and it settled the uneasiness that had been growing within her throughout her conversation with Kaethriel.
Whatever had existed between Daevyn and Aurora belonged in the past. Before he had come to her parents' home and had asked to court her. Before he had kissed her beneath the oak tree.
Relief settled over the doubts that had lingered since Niava's wedding.
"I'm sorry," she said simply.
A faint smile twisted his mouth. "So am I. And so is my cheek. I apologize for that… embarrassing scene."
The orchestra drifted effortlessly into another piece and the dancers filled the floor.
Lysara reached out and touched the back of his hand, stilling his fidgeting. "Perhaps we should call it a night."
He looked up, and for the first time since returning to the table she saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. "That may be for the best," he agreed. "My apologies for cutting the evening short."
"It's perfectly alright." She rose, smoothing the skirt of her dress. "I have a busy day tomorrow anyway."
He smiled gratefully and stood to offer her his arm.