The ball, a series of spinning wheels of dance and politics, had ground to a halt. Petra could feel the crowd staring at Clara, along with the chill whispers that followed.
Who is that?
I think it's the Golden Apples boy, you know. That new noble family.
I remember him. But who is she? The girl? That Svarm boy hasn't been engaged for months last I heard. And last time…who was it again?
Petra turned helplessly as she felt those tongues lash the armor from her skin. A lump started to form in her throat as the world opened cruel before her. Just a couple of loud girls from a dead house.
I've been deluding myself, Petra thought as she pulled on Clara's arm. We don't belong here. Not anymore. Our only shield was anonymity.
The Duchess glided from the whispered background, materializing as if from the gossip itself. Petra jumped, and straightened her dress as the woman approached. Beside that willowy grace, Petra found herself feeling…small.
"Good evening," The Duchess said, "Master Svarm, you have been cordially invited to court my daughter at the behest of your allies. I ask you to avoid airing such gossip before the crowd."
"Oh, to court her was I?" Svarm turned to the Duchess, indignant fire blazing against her cool composure like a spluttering candle, "Your daughter isn't here! I had come all this way to meet her, yet she leaves me wandering around as the fool! I even brought my sister, so that…they could…"
He was like a wilted rose that had turned from the bitter frost to a hopefully forgiving sun. Yet the sun, as calm as it was, held no warmth for him. Or perhaps it did in that cold, burning way of a winter sun.
"My child," The Duchess Primrose said, "You had an opportunity, not a chance."
The Duchess looked Svarm in the eyes and said, "My dear Calendula is a flighty girl, with a knack for being difficult to find. You were to beat the odds, not be handed the reward. She may be here at this very moment, but…well, I think that the opportunity has passed. Much the same as with this lovely young woman."
Svarm's expression froze over in a burnt red. Petra raised her eyebrows. So little logic, yet so much bite. Fascinating.
The Duchess broke the silence and said, "I will see to it that the next time I see Calendula, I inform her of your intent. She tends to humor a good-natured attempt. I think she enjoys the awkwardness."
The Duchess turned from Svarm and looked Clara and Petra over. Petra shifted, the whisper running around the crowd finally looping back to her. To them. Two twins, likely noble, with one being called Clarity and had been engaged to Svarm of the Golden Apples. It was a mental leap that you could shuffle your feet with.
One thing could be sure. The Duchess of Stalt heard everything. Petra could feel the heat from their bridges burning.
Petra's neck burned as she pulled on Clara's arm one more time and said, "Join me in refreshing myself, Clara. Our presence will only make this evening stiff-"
A gentle hand rested on Petra's bare shoulder and the Duchess said, "Don't be ridiculous. You two are my daughter's honored guests. I'm sure that everyone would be delighted to speak with you. Svarm may take his leave."
Svarm snapped out of his stunned silence and said, "I'm sorry. What did you say to me?"
"I said that you may take your leave," The Duchess said, "These young women are my daughter's personal guests and dear friends. I'm afraid that, compared to them, your invitation is quite pale."
Petra could feel Clara smirk, and that immovable arm of hers weakened. She hauled and Clara finally stepped away.
Petra sighed and said, "I'm afraid we must take our leave. This evening took a…strange turn. We need to discuss, if only for a moment."
"Then don't let me delay you here," Duchess Primrose said, "I'm sure that you are flushed from all your dancing."
Petra nodded and practically dragged Clara away by the collar. Clara, who had turned from crystallized venom to a gloating toad, reluctantly followed Petra. If only to avoid tearing her dress.
The press of eyes and the weight of whispers swept them through the iron bolted door and into Harriett's private waiting chamber. The butler, Trenador, was midway through sweeping under the couch, but bowed the moment they came in. He motioned to a bell to ring for him, and left promptly. Maybe he could read it on their faces.
Petra turned steely eyes to Clara's smug rage and clashed briefly on that psychic understanding of twins.
"What the *(&^ $^#^!!!" Petra screamed, "Did you plan on making it that obvious?!"
"Sorry," Clara said proudly, "I lost my temper."
"Temper!" Petra said, "You basically said 'Oh, hello everyone! I was engaged to the heir of the Golden Apples house, which ended terribly. And, as you know, the Golden Apple's heir was engaged to the heir of the Silver Sabers, Clarity. By the way, I go by Clara at the moment.'"
"Hey," Clara's fire stoked, "You know that he-"
Petra said, "And YOU KNOW THAT WE WEREN'T READY!"
"LET ME TALK!" Clara shouted, "EVEN IF YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO SAY!"
Petra shouted, "ONLY WHEN-"
Clara shouted, "NO!"
They huffed at each other like two steam engines on the same track. Then, slowly, they came out of it. Their mistake laid in broken horror before them.
"I didn't mean to," Clara said, "It was my temper. I didn't want to blow our cover like that. My temper can be…short."
Petra glared and sighed and said, "No, my temper is short. Unnecessary. I should have stepped in. But I couldn't think of a way out. I was too angry at him as well."
They sighed as one and Clara said, "So what do we do now?"
Petra paced the room, shoulders slumped. Now that she'd shouted her anger out, all that was left was a hollow, trapped feeling. And why? It wasn't like she hadn't been considering this option. She'd liquidated some assets behind the scenes and has a variety of 'sample' crystals to cement deals.
If they were to wait, then rumors would fly all the way back to the capital. With Scott here, they could finish the Manor in days. If Petra got a new Earth Crystal.
If only this had been a masquerade ball, Petra thought, then none of this would have happened.
"We fight," Petra said, "We announce ourselves. After all, it's not like we're officially enemies of the kingdom."
"We're not unofficially enemies either," Clara said, "Just the Taste'r house and the other power hungry @#$%. So…what? We just walk out and go by our real names?"
Petra rung the bell and said, "We'll have a proper introduction as Patricia and Clarity. Then…we'll see."
Trenador arrived and Petra said, "We are ready to be announced."
Trenador nodded and said, "And what shall I declare you to be?"
Petra felt Clara take her hand and squeeze. It was time.
"The twin heirs of the Golden Shields and the Silver Sabers," Petra said, both hot and cold as the words left her mouth, "Patricia and Clarity."
I can take it back still. Petra thought. Last chance. I can tell him to stop. To forget.
Trenador hesitated, eyes going wide then squinting.
Petra felt an anger surge and said, "What? You don't believe me?"
"Oh I do," Trenador said, "But…perhaps… may I reorder the way I declare you? Your names first, then titles? It's more fitting."
"Oh," Petra said, "Of course. Good advice. Thank you."
Trenador smiled and said, "If I may be so bold, might I say that it is a brave thing for you two to be here. I knew your parents. They were here frequently while the plans for your family manor were under quill. I think that they would be proud of you two. Is there any other information you wish for me to declare?"
"Oh," Petra said smally, "Do whatever you think is best. Thanks."
The butler nodded, then motioned for them to follow him. Petra tried to keep up, but that comment about her parents had shaken her.
"Come along," the butler said, "A proper introduction is done while ascending the stairs to the ball. We've got a Photo Crystal as well, so we can mark the occasion for the history books…"
At that moment, Petra would not have called what she was feeling 'numb'. She was too unfeeling for that. She was in the state of not thinking anything at all as the world turned around her. Sparing only the thought that she shouldn't fall too far behind the butler.
This was it. Her hand had been forced. They were nowhere close to prepared.
If they wanted to be safe, they would have hid at ground level in a random village somewhere.
The twins were here to do something about things. Not revenge, but to declare that they wouldn't back down. Maybe even get a force together to take back their family castle. They were not here to hide in the dark, huddled. Hopeless.
Petra straightened as the butler prepared to present them at the grand entry doors. Steps lead down to the ballroom below, and the crowd mingled around where they had been. Clara took Petra's hand, and Petra squeezed Clara's hand back.
Petra said, "Thank you."
Then Petra let go.
****
The night was electric with the power of gossip. Not only had the lost twins been found, but the Duchess had declared them her guests! Several figures hurried off, going for whatever could carry a message the fastest.
From the entrance, a butler stepped into the light. With a motion, a bugler sounded fanfare fit for the royal court. He really put his heart into it, drawing every eye before stopping and letting the echo die.
"Formally Announcing," The butler held an air crystal against his throat, "For the pleasure of the Stalt court, the Electrum Twins!"
The crowd buzzed again as the twins stepped forward, the very object of the night, came into the light. Standing tall, stiff as the steel in their eyes. Not the panicked girls that had been here mere seconds before.
The butler continued, "The eldest Daughters and heirs to both the historic right and left hands of the king. The Golden Shield, masters of the arcane, the crystal behind the throne. Patricia Auburn, first of her name, and Champion of this year's Mage's tournament!"
There should have been a shaking of the ground, and if Patricia had an earth crystal there would have been. Just something to bridge the gap between herself and her mother. A suspension bridge of disbelief to span the void between reputation and power.
"And the Younger sister." The butler said, "The Silver Saber, the sword before the throne. Clarity Sable, first of her name, and the Beast of Alwyn's Pass!"
That was an old bit of gossip, from years ago, but it served well to remind the crowd of Clarity's reputation. Especially since she had been twelve at the time.
"Praetorium!" the butler called, "Fatura qui Veni."
Praetorian Guard. The fate of those who came.
A traditional closing to the introduction of the high nobles. It changed depending on the event, the people, and the declarer's choice. The "subject" and the "declaration of the evening".
The king's guards, and what happened to them. Or perhaps what will happen to them. A most foreboding declaration.
Patricia smiled. She wouldn't have to start any awkward conversations starting with "I know we met each other earlier but I'm actually Patricia". Officially, the party didn't start until one of these declarations occurred, so Patricia hadn't actually met anyone yet.
Then a voice, a panicked and desperate man screaming for the lives of everyone in the world, rang out from the top-most towers of the Castle of Stalt.
"DRAGON!!!"
Clarity stepped down from the entrance and squared off with the sky, saying, "Perfect. I need to get my anger out on something."
****
In the darkness, a shadow fled. He knew that he should have checked before opening that gate. He'd been in a rush. Those creepy statues were going to wake up soon. Now that the sun was down.
They would be a good barrier between the mage and him.
The shadow paused and pulled out a light crystal, then lit the surrounding dark with a few balls of light. Then he took a special something out.
"Alright you rock freaks," the shadow said, "I am one of you. I am the leader. I am not food."
He dropped the barrier for one last time. Then he carefully walked through a forest of sharp fingers. It wouldn't last for long. It didn't need to.
Then into the door beyond. The massive chamber holding a looming form that filled it all. Stiff. Cold. The shadow would have believed it was dead.
But Home had sent this. Their main plan with the Time-Wrought Dragon wasn't enough. There were strong adventurers here that hadn't been drawn off like the Butcher.
This was the second to last thing that the shadow needed to do. Then he could pack up and leave.
He really should have packed up earlier. This was supposed to be happening in a couple of days. He'd been planning to pack today. But then the rains had pushed everything forward and his companions had left for the capital.
Just this, then he could command the statues and leave.
The shadow pressed the fire crystal plates. Someone had been selling fire crystals that were usually reserved for construction. The shadow had been forced to fashion a series of heating elements into plates; something to wake up the monster. Hopefully, long after the shadow was gone.