Episode 34

The system of power turns like wheel

You can rise to the top through money or steel

You could lift up others or leave them in muck

But it’s the poor who will suffer when the wheel becomes stuck

If the problems aren’t met with any solution

The wheel must turn in bloody revolution

The vermin will rise as the predator sinks

Let’s see then if the fox can outsmart the lynx

Lilian tried to speak but no words left her mouth. She had been struck dumb by the sentence that she had just heard. Her brain was scrambling to make sense of it even now. In an effort to avoid pinching herself or going mad, Lilian reviewed the situation in her head.

She was in the royal palace at the top of the extinct volcano on which the city of Freedos was built. She had been invited here to attend the Summer Ball. The invitation had mysteriously ended up in her small room on Vulpes Road and requested her presence specifically. When she had arrived at the ball however she was whisked away from the crowds in the main hall by a man in a mask who walked with a cane. He had taken her up a guarded staircase to a private balcony and he was still standing at the back at that moment, watching everything unfold. Lilian assumed him to be some sort of bodyguard for seconds later an elegant, smiling woman appeared in a costly but simple jade gown. She was followed by a second woman, dressed in black, who was carrying several sheets of paper. The first woman had sat down opposite Lilian and introduced herself as Empress Sylvia. Had Lilian heard her correctly? Surely she couldn’t really be…

“When the Empress speaks to you, you will kindly answer her.” Lilian looked past the Empress at the woman in black. Her words and smile had been friendly enough, but Lilian detected a hint of menace behind her cordial facade. Lilian had to snap herself back to the present moment or else embarrass herself in front of royalty. She wasn’t dreaming, this was really happening. Suddenly all of Mr Attorcop’s lessons in etiquette came flooding back to her. She would have to deftly employ each one if she were to navigate this meeting successfully. How does one address an Empress? She thought. Ah yes.

“My apologies, Your Grace. I’m overwhelmed by this wonderful party. Yes, I am Lilian Lausanne.” Lilian closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly in deference. The Empress’ smile returned.

“I’m glad to make your acquaintance. Now it is I who must apologise for dragging you away from the festivities.” Lilian knew from her lessons that she needed to constantly be putting herself on a lower level. The Empress had just apologised, meaning that she could not be seen to acknowledge the fault.

“Not at all Your Grace. No enchanted forest could be as charming as your presence.” For a brief moment, Lilian worried that she had insulted the decor but the Empress’ slight nod and continued smile told her that she had taken the compliment. Lilian’s heart was racing, she would be more comfortable fighting some brute in alley than jousting with words in a palace.

“Well I thank you for joining me, I assure you that you will be back to the party in no time. It is my understanding that you’re not from Freedos, is that correct?” A red flag instantly shot up in Lilian’s mind. This was a test. She of course knew where Lilian was from, she was seeing whether or not Lilian would tell her the truth.

“That’s right, Your Grace. From a small town in the east called Benlunar.” Lilian did not chance lying to the most powerful woman in Alicium.

“How charming. I confess though that I’ve never been.”

“Charming is the perfect description, Your Grace. The accommodations are humble, but the people are kind and the views are truly worthy of your greatness.” At that comment the Empress turned to share a brief look with her lady in waiting. It was a raised eyebrow and a curious smile. Lilian guessed it to signify a confirmation of some shared suspicion, or perhaps the Empress was impressed with her. The Empress turned back and asked her second question.

“It sounds delightful. May I ask, what brings you to the city?”

“I left home to study and to work. Benlunar is delightful as you say, but holds few opportunities for a keen mind.”

“And you travelled all this way alone?”

“With my uncle, Your Grace.”

“And his name is?” This question caught Lilian off guard, should she use the false name Mr Attorcop had travelled under? Or should she stick to the truth?

“Cromwell Attorcop, Your Grace.” Lilian opted to stick as close to the truth as possible.

“Your uncle doesn’t share your surname?”

“No, Your Grace, he is a distant relative on my mother’s side. I call him uncle for ease.” Lilian felt as though she was being interrogated and a small voice in the back of her head reminded her that she probably was.

The Empress’ questions came thick and fast now. Lilian tried to answer each of them quickly, or else be thought of as some country rube. It wasn’t just her reputation that was at stake here, but her town and family’s as well.

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen, Your Grace.”

“What do you think of the city?”

“I enjoy it.”

“You don’t miss home?”

“On occasion. But not enough to leave just yet.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Nearly three months.”

“And the feinhound’s name is?”

“Fritha Your Grace.”

There was a pause. Lilian’s heart sank as she realised that she had lost the first round. She had let slip a piece of information that she would have rather kept to herself. All this mess had started when Fritha had been found attacked and injured in Mr Attorcop’s attic. The silver hand broach they had found at the scene suggested that some strange, secret group known as The Guiding Hand were behind the attack. Had the hand been a decoy? A red herring to throw them off the scent? Or did the influence of the group stretch to the very top levels of government? Lilian needed time to piece everything together and at that moment she was too flustered to make sense of it all.

The Empress leant back in her chair for the first time since sitting down. She was mulling over the information she had just received. Her lady was scribbling something down on her papers. Far below, the crowd cheered at some unseen trick or performance.

“Fritha,” she said, half to herself. “What a lovely name.” Her voice was perfectly clear even when whispered. It was the kind of voice that was used to cutting through chaos. Perfectly practised pronunciation, with just enough volume to be heard at all times. Lilian knew she ought to smile at the compliment, but her heart was still pounding from her foolish mistake. How had The Empress known that Fritha was a feinhound? Or had she merely guessed and let Lilian confirm the fact for her. Lilian hated being on her back foot and resolved to regroup and prepare for the next round.

The Empress leant forward, once again.

“I’m told that she is as beautiful as she is dangerous.”

“An accurate description.”

“Should I be concerned for the safety of my citizens?” Lilian allowed herself a smile. She knew the rules of the game now and she wasn’t going to let herself lose again.

“Only those who would wish her harm.” A pause. Lilian saw the faintest twitch in the corner of the Empress’s left eye. She was angry. The crowd below gasped at some daring stunt performer. Lilian didn’t let herself get distracted.

“It’s not everyday I hear of such a creature living within the city walls.”

“I’m sure your Grace has more important matters to concern herself with.”

“Perhaps. Even so, I should like to meet her.” The grand hall seemed to be collectively holding its breath. The entertainment downstairs must have been quite spectacular. The outright request had caught Lilian off-guard. She had to find a way of turning it down, without slighting the Empress in any way. One slip of something that might be seen as impertinence and Lilian could be spending the rest of the party in a dungeon.

“Your Grace, I’m sure she would be as honoured as I am presently. However, as you say, she can be dangerous. I could not bring myself to put you in any kind of peril.” The Empress countered quickly.

“You doubt your ability to control her?”

“Not at all. I just feel as though…”

“Excellent,” The Empress cut her off. An underhanded move that only she could employ. Lilian slipped and felt her hand grip the arm of her chair tightly. The Empress continued, “Then I should see you and Fritha at the palace at your leisure within the week.” Lilian wanted to protest, she wanted to say something clever and wittily diffuse the situation. She had been so confident only moments ago, she had remembered all her lessons in court etiquette and she thought she had employed them perfectly. But she was still an amateur and she had been facing the world champion. She had never even stood a chance. The Empress was standing up now, preparing for her victory lap no doubt. She had gotten everything she had wanted and probably more out of her brief conversation with Lilian. Thankfully, she was a gracious winner. She smiled sweetly and gazed down at Lilian while holding out her left arm. Lilian was still reeling from her spectacular defeat to realise what was happening.

“My dear, thank you so much for the pleasure of your company. I have so enjoyed meeting you and I know we will become firm friends. Shall we descend to rejoin the fun?” Lilian caught sight of the lady in waiting, her face was a mask of shock. Lilian knew that she could not refuse.

“Your Grace, the pleasure has been all mine. It would be my honour to accompany you downstairs.” Lilian stood up and linked her hand under the arm of the Empress.

“You’re sweet,” she replied, “you’ll have to forgive me if I lean on you too much. I always find these stone steps to be treacherous, especially in this gown.” Lilian could only mumble a small,

“Not at all your Grace,” before starting towards the stairs she had ascended to the balcony.

“Lilian, my dear.” She felt a resistance from the Empress’ arm. “Not those stairs. They’re far too steep and narrow, let us use the others.” Lilian was turned around and guided towards a larger staircase at the other end of the balcony that was in plain view of the hall. It had an ornate bannister that was currently decorated in all manner of luscious greenery and tiny little fairy lights. Lilian realised that she was about to descend to the party by the side of the Empress, paraded to the public like some new pet. Had all this been the plan from the start? A phrase was stuck in her head for some reason, something The Empress had said. ‘As beautiful as she is dangerous.’

Word must have travelled quickly down some other staircase or secret passageway because before Lilian and The Empress reached the bottom of the ostentatious stairs, the crowd was ready to receive them. A short man dressed as a wood nymph heralded their arrival.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, friends and honoured guests. Presenting her Royal Majesty, ninth leader of Alicium and the free world, Empress Sylvia and her guest Miss Lilian Lausanne of Benlunar.” A sea of smiling faces looked up to witness their arrival. Lilian’s stomach was a barrel of butterflies. She sensed her hand was shaking. The Empress must have sensed it too because she leant over and whispered in her ear.

“Just smile my dear. Smile and enjoy yourself.” Lilian did as she was told. The crowd applauded politely. Lilian was reminded of whenever Fritha brought some fresh kill to show her. She saw envy in the eyes of some of the guests and remembered that most of these people would have been commissioning for an opportunity like this for their entire lives. Lilian didn’t know if she should feel honoured, or embarrassed. She found herself wondering if her parents would believe her when she told them.

“My dear friends,” The Empress spoke but only raised her voice ever so slightly, “Thank you so much for joining me. I want to take this opportunity to apologise for the last minute invitations.” There was a brief smattering of knowing, sycophantic laughter. Lilian broadened her grin, not wanting to be left out of the joke. The Empress continued, “It seems that my home has been put under some kind of enchantment.” Another laugh from the crowd. Lilian fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Let us take this opportunity to revel then in magic for one evening for I have a feeling that by morning all of this shall disappear. So eat, drink, dance and enjoy yourselves. And if I may say, the real magic in this hall tonight is the feeling I have in knowing that I have such fine friends.” The Empress then slowly closed her eyes and performed the slightest of bows. It was a well practised and wonderfully executed motion. Enough to show gratitude but not so much as to lose face. It elicited an audible ‘Ah…’ from the crowd who then, like a school of fish, moved as one to bow and bend low and deep. They averted their eyes from her like a pilgrim upon finally reaching the holy site he sought, too in awe to stare directly at its wonder.

Within seconds, the act was done. The band started up again and the crowd dispersed in excited chatter. The Empress, still arm in arm with Lilian, descended to the bottom of the stairs to join the crowd. A few daring party goers waited excitedly to greet them, hoping to get a chance to actually speak to the Empress, perhaps even impress her. For her part, Empress Sylvia tapped Lilian’s hand and whispered one last thing.

“Enjoy your evening Lilian, I shall see you again soon.” And with those words and one final smile, she let go. Lilian watched her drift into the crowd. She felt oddly betrayed, like she had been given a great gift, only to have it snatched away. She could not understand it. She had entered the palace with an idea of the Empress in her head, but now that she had actually met her, that image was becoming distorted. Lilian could only consider this for a few seconds though because she quickly found herself mobbed by a small crowd of young women.

They were all wearing frilly dresses and either had bird feather fascinators on their heads or some kind of ridiculous accessory like a clutch bag in the shape of a spider or flimsy fairy wings sewn into the back of their corsets. Everything about their appearances screamed effort and was totally opposite to what the Empress had been wearing which had merely whispered power and wealth.

“Miss Lausanne?” one asked in a shrill voice.

“Yes?” Lilian was still flustered from her experience and was bewildered by the sudden attention.

“My name is Serena Bellaswan.” Lilian stifled a laugh. The young woman was quite a bit taller than she was, with an exceptionally long neck. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose curls which bounced slightly whenever she moved. She was one of the few people at the ball to be dressed almost entirely in white. The front of her dress was accented with feathers and a small orange patch of silk in the shape of a diamond. “May I ask? How ever did you find such a gorgeous hat?”

“Um, a friend leant it to me,” she replied, in a quiet voice. Lilian had suddenly become distracted by a man walking towards their group holding a silver platter. The tray was filled with bite sized portions of food. Lilian hadn’t eaten since lunch and quickly waved at the man to catch his attention. He approached, smiled and offered her the tray.

“Thank you.” Lilian said as she eagerly grabbed three bites. They were a mixture of cured meat and pickled vegetables. Lilian’s mouth was already watering by the time she shoved them, unceremoniously into it. The man then offered the plate to the rest of the young women who then did something strange. Every single one of them looked at miss Bellaswan and waited for her to act. The woman in white looked down at the plate, smiled politely and then shook her head. At this every one of her little entourage followed suit and declined the food. Lilian looked at the group, confused. One younger girl dressed in a blue gown with a lilypad sewn onto it declined the tray with such a sad look in her eye Lilian thought she was in danger of bursting into tears. Lilian swallowed her mouthful and began to feel nervous again.

“Is that a friend from Benlunar?” Miss Bellaswan’s attention was back on Lilian.

“No… It was Lady Montidore.” This caused a visible reaction in the group of girls. A few of them shared knowing looks. Only Miss Bellaswan kept her gaze on Lilian. She was still smiling. But her smile had changed. It was shifting slowly into a kind of smirk. Lilian’s nerves increased.

“Well, who am I to fault Lady Montidore’s taste in friends or fashion?” From out of nowhere, Miss Bellaswan pulled out a fan and with a flick of her wrist it cracked open. For some reason, the sound reminded Lilian of the crack of a whip. One that might signify the start of some race or competition. Instinctively, Lilian’s feet moved into a guard stance.

“I notice that your lady is not here this evening. How could she be, I suppose, having given up her best hat?” Two or three of the young women covered their mouths to hide their obvious snickering. Only then did Lilian realise what was happening. She was being placed. These young women did not know her and so they were attempting to figure out exactly where she stood in the social hierarchy. Lilian had shown her hand by confessing a connection to Lady Montidore, she had emboldened her opponent who was now attempting to fight for status. Lilian had been so confused by her time with the Empress that she had forgotten that she was at court, and at court words were weapons.

Lilian felt a flash of energy come up from her stomach. Those morsels of food were clearing her head. She took a short breath and remembered her lessons.

“Lady Montidore is indisposed this evening. Her charity work does not always permit for a life of frivolity. And I’m glad you like the hat, Empress Sylivia was also taken with it.” Lilian watched Miss Bellaswan’s mask slip. A flash of rage taking the form of a widening smile.

“How wonderful,” she said, “once again my own taste for friends and fashion aligns with her majesty’s.”

“You must be close as sisters.” said Lilian.

“It has been said.” Miss Bellaswan turned to her adoring crowd and flashed her teeth, perfectly straight and whiter than white. Lilian contorted her face into mock thought.

“Strange then,” she said, “She has never mentioned you.” There was a slight pause. The band was between songs, a detail which Lilian was thankful for because the relative quiet drove the insult home like the final blow of a hammer on a nail. One of the young women towards the back of the small group’s mouth popped open in shock and another one didn’t even notice a small patch of sequins fall off her shoulder. Miss Bellaswan turned slowly back to Lilian. Her eyes were narrowing but still she kept her smile wide and friendly.

“Well my dear, given more time in her company I’m sure that would change. You have after all only just arrived in Freedos. Dressed in borrowed clothes and looking like the cat that got the cream. I might remind you that the Empress will not always be there to throw you scraps and that life in the city can be unforgiving. If I were you I would make some friends or else crawl back to your silly town whose name is as stupid and forgettable as you are.” Lilian felt a flash of heat rush to her cheeks. The insults were made worse by two or three of the girls brazenly applauding the speech. Lilian felt rage bubble up inside her and briefly thought about slapping Miss Bellaswan. All she did though was open her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out there was another crack and the white feathered fan was gone.

“Come along ladies, perhaps we can find someone actually worth talking to. Country folk are so terribly dull.” There was a ripple of titters, a flash of feathers and the group was off, quickly swallowed up into the crowd. Lilian realised that her fists were clenched, her nails were digging into her palms and her teeth were gritted in spite.

She looked around the hall. The lights suspended in the forest canopy were gradually changing colours, bathing the revellers in a purple glow. Together with the sweet sounding music it made for a truly beautiful scene. It seemed a shame to let anger spoil it, she thought. And why was she even angry? She had fought contract killers and stared demons in the eye. But something about miss Bellaswan’s words and ways made her blood boil. Another sound caught her attention, it was a low chuckle coming from behind her. Lilian turned to see where it was coming from. A tall woman with black hair was leaning against the outside of the ornate bannister. Lilian hadn’t noticed her before and she wondered if this had been intentional. The woman seemed friendly and was still chuckling in a low and musical way. She was older than Miss Bellaswan. Her face was lined with smile creases but her hair was not yet grey. She emerged from behind the decorations and Lilian saw that she was dressed as a sort of fey warrior. While many women had elected to sport heightened or fantastical versions of the current fashions she was dressed in jewel studded leathers. She wore a coronet of thin silver that dipped into a point in the middle of her forehead. Her clothes were elegant, in keeping with the theme and much more comfortable looking than any gown or dress. Lilian found herself wishing she had dressed this way.

“Was I really that bad?” Lilian asked her. The woman shrugged and smiled.

“Not too bad for a first try. Although I don’t envy your choice of opponent. If I was new to a game, I would not want to face a champion.” Lilian found her voice familiar for some reason.

“Well how was I supposed to know?” she pouted, feeling the loss all over again. The woman shrugged once more, she had broad shoulders that shook the silver rings and plates on her armour when they fell.

“Knowing is part of the game, I’m afraid. You wouldn’t play a game of cards without knowing the rules now would you? You were outnumbered and out statused. Try not to take it to heart, we all lose battles, it’s the war that counts.” She looked Lilian up and down, assessing her in some way. “Miss Bellaswan was right about one thing,” she continued.

“What? That I was stupid?” said Lilian. This made the woman laugh.

“No. That if you’re going to play the game, you will need friends.” Lilian thought for a second. She had friends, but they were nowhere to be seen. With nothing to lose she ventured an offer.

“Will you be my friend?” Another shrug.

“Maybe. Like Miss Bellaswan, I am interested in why you were with The Empress, but I do not wish to risk my standing on a newcomer.” There was another searching look. Lilian began to feel very exposed and alone. All her training and power was proving useless in this unfamiliar battleground. Finally the warrior woman curtsied. The motion looked strange coming from someone dressed in such powerful attire. But Lilian smiled, relieved and returned the curtsy.

“My name is Genevive Katz.”

“Lilian Lausanne.”

“A pleasure to meet you Miss Lausanne.”

“And you Miss Katz.” Both women smiled and Lilian felt her anger melt away. It felt good to have someone take a chance on her. “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

“Ha,” Genevive gave a derisive laugh, “I would not worry about that. I am perfectly capable of embarrassing myself, thank you.” Lilian smiled. “Come, shall we attempt to enjoy ourselves?” Genevive motioned to the depths of the great hall where the party was in full swing. Lilian gave a mock sigh.

“If we must.” Genevive offered her left arm and Lilian gladly took it. Her hands were larger than Lilian’s and seemed rough and red in places. Lilian noticed them while looking at the incredibly intricate bracers she was wearing. They were decorated with little moons and encrusted with shimmering blue stones.

The party was much easier to enjoy with someone who knew what they were doing. Lilian and Genevive ate some delicious looking shellfish while watching a team of acrobats vault over impossible heights and launch each other into the air in a breathtaking display of stunts and somersaults. They met a man carrying a lizard on his arm that from tip to tail was almost as big as Lilian. At one point, two friendly young men approached them and asked them to dance. Genevive thankfully recognised the look of abject terror on Lilian’s face and politely declined the offer. The evening had started with a baptism of fire into the world of court politics, but thankfully the flames had cooled and Lilian was beginning to see why all these people fought tooth and nail for a ticket to events like these. She was having fun and although she had to watch what she said with whoever she met, Lilian found herself laughing at Genevive’s witty observations and smiling at the kind words she received on her choice of gown and hat from various strangers. Occasionally she would catch eyes with Serena Bellaswan who seemed to be watching her like a hawk would a mouse. But as the night went on Lilian found it easier and easier to just ignore her.

“You’re not as bad as I thought Miss Lausanne.” Genevive was sipping a pink drink in a tall and ornate glass. The compliment came after a particularly prickly interaction between Lilian and an older noble woman. Lilian had accidentally caused her to spill her drink but had deftly talked her way out of embarrassment and even managed to leave the encounter after putting a smile on the woman’s face.

“I have excellent teachers.” said Lilian, flushing red from the attention.

“If I did not know better, I would say you have enjoyed yourself.” Genevive’s lilting accent still pleased Lilian.

“I have,” she said, smiling, “and I have you to thank for that Miss Katz.”

“A pleasure is a pleasure my dear. It’s not so bad when you play the game for fun. Most people here play to win. Every conversation becomes an opportunity to put yourself up higher, or send others down low. But I am not here to work, and so I think in some way that gives me a sort of advantage. I will not climb high in court tonight, but I will not fall too low either.”

Suddenly a gong sounded from the back of the stage. It was a low and sorry sound that echoed off the walls and around the hall. It was met by an equally sad sound from the crowd, almost a collective groan. It clearly signalled the end of the evening and the guests were despondent to have their frivolity cut short. Lilian’s heart sank as well, but not so much because of the gong. It was something Genevive had said, something about this party being work. With all the distractions and strange events Lilian had completely forgotten what she had been here to do. She had supposed to work, to find a quiet corner and listen out for that strange ringing sound she had caught from the rooftop near the palace walls. Lilian wanted to kick herself.

“Oh that is a shame,” said Genevive. She started walking towards the large entrance at the other end of the hall, she made it a few steps before turning back to see that Lilian was not following. “Miss Lausanne? Is everything alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, I’m fine.”

“No need to be so upset,” Genevive comforted her, “there will always be more parties.” Lilian smiled.

“No I know, it’s just that… I’ve… lost my shawl. Yes, I came here with it and I can’t seem to see it anywhere.” Genevive shot her a confused look. It had been a blatant lie, but Lilian needed an excuse to stick around, even if just for a minute, if she could find somewhere quiet to focus as the guests were leaving then she might be able to listen out for a clue.

“Miss Katz, thank you so much for everything. I hope we meet again soon.” Genevive looked taken aback at the strange and sudden goodbye. But she shrugged and nodded.

“Of course, I live within the walls at my father’s house, ask for me at the gates one day and we will have tea, or whatever it is noble ladies are supposed to do when we are not at parties.” She curtsied one final time and Lilian returned the gesture. Genevive then turned and joined the chattering, exiting crowd.

Lilian glanced around fitfully. Every dark corner she saw had some masked man buried within it, glaring out over the party like a gargoyle. Had there always been this much security in here? Lilian wondered. At one point, Lilian thought she spotted an alcove that was hidden from view, but as soon as she started towards it, the man with the cane from earlier appeared as if from nowhere and blocked her path.

“May I help you, Miss Lausanne?” Lilian caught herself and went back to the story she had given Genevive.

“I’m looking for my shawl, I can’t seem to find it.” The man leant forwards so that he was at eye level. His pink jacket hung loose on his chest and Lilian could smell the strong perfume he wore.

“I will personally be sure to keep an eye out for it. If it is found, I shall have it sent to your address.”

“Thank you but I…” Lilian tried to protest, but the man interrupted her.

“Now if you will kindly follow the other guests to the doors. The party is over and it is getting late.” Lilian stood, stunned for a second. While he was talking, she had glanced at the inside of the man’s pink jacket, at the white cotton shirt beneath it. There on the lapel, plain as day, was a silver brooch in the shape of a hand. Lilian could not find any words so she simply nodded. The man held his hand out towards the large palace doors. His sleeve lifted slightly as his arm extended and Lilian caught a glimpse of something else. The skin around his wrist was red and scabbed. It was a fresh wound, perhaps a week or two old at best. Lilian only saw it for a second, but it looked like a bite mark.

She started heading for the palace doors. Unfortunately she was leaving the party with more questions than answers. She started off walking but when an idea entered her mind she hitched up her dress and began to run. It was not exactly appropriate behaviour for a young noble lady but Lilian reminded herself that she was not a young noble lady and that she didn’t give a rabbit’s tale for what these people thought of her. She pushed her way through the crowd, excusing herself as best she could whenever she bumped into somebody. Her eyes scanned the hustle and bustle of the throng. Lilian breathed in the cool night air as she left the hall through the gigantic doors she had entered. People were chatting on the stone steps outside and the trees that had lit the way from the gates were now sparkling with the light of thousands of fireflies. Lilian didn’t have time to enjoy the site however as she picked up her pace and ran into the trees. She scanned every face, every hint of silver and every tired party goer until she found who she was looking for.

“Genevive!” she shouted. She had seen the light reflect off of her new friend’s coronet and was making her way towards her through the trees. Genevive turned to see her approach. She smiled.

“Hello again! When I said you should visit, I did not think it would be so soon.” Lilian was slightly out of breath but managed to get out what she wanted to say.

“Can I ask, where did you get those bracers? And the band on your head?” Genevive’s face fell to a nervous expression. She glanced about to check that no one was within eavesdropping distance. Satisfied that they were alone, she leant forward and whispered her reply.

“Don’t tell anyone because it’s not very appropriate behaviour but… I actually make them myself.”