Frey was the one who asked.
Everyone else had excuses that day—missions, meetings, preparations—so when she stood in front of Eira with a small, hopeful smile and asked him to go shopping with her for the party, he agreed before thinking too much about it.
The city was livelier than usual. Stalls overflowed with fabrics that shimmered under mana lamps, jewel-toned silks, embroidered coats, and accessories meant to draw attention in crowded halls. Frey moved through it all with surprising excitement, pulling Eira from one shop to another, holding fabrics against him with a critical eye.
"This," she said, narrowing her eyes, "makes you look too serious."
She discarded it and picked another. "This one… yes. You look like someone who belongs at a ball."
Eira laughed awkwardly. "I don't know anything about this."
"That's why I'm here," she replied simply.
When it was his turn, he hesitated, then chose something softer for her—simple but elegant, something that matched her quiet strength rather than overwhelming it. Frey stared at the outfit for a long moment before smiling.
"You're better at this than you think."
Later, while eating together at a quiet corner shop, Eira saw them.
Neo and Ark.
They were seated close, heads tilted toward each other, sharing food and laughter like it was the most natural thing in the world. Eira's chest tightened before he even realized why. He looked away quickly, but the feeling lingered, heavy and familiar.
Frey noticed.
She didn't tease him. Instead, she stirred her drink slowly and spoke.
"My first lover was a noble," she said casually. "Three years ago."
Eira looked at her, surprised.
"He was kind. Or at least, I thought he was. Then he got engaged—for politics. He said he still loved me." She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "He's coming to the ball tonight."
"I'm sorry," Eira said quietly.
She shrugged. "Feelings don't disappear just because someone decides they should."
He understood that more than he wanted to admit.
The ball that night was dazzling. Young nobles and mages filled the hall, dressed in fabrics from every land. Music echoed beneath crystal chandeliers. Vesa was there, unmistakable despite trying to blend in, surrounded by attention. Princes and high-ranking guild members gathered in clusters, watching, judging.
Frey and Eira danced.
It wasn't perfect, but it was honest. For a moment, Eira forgot everything else.
Then the noble approached.
Frey's former lover looked Eira up and down with open disdain. "I didn't realize you'd lowered your standards this much," he said lightly. "Dancing with someone like him."
The words landed sharply.
Before Eira could react, Frey stepped forward.
"Someone like him?" she said calmly. "At least he chose me. You were too busy choosing power."
The noble's expression hardened. Lily, standing nearby, lowered her gaze. Neo took a step forward, but Ark caught her wrist gently, shaking his head.
That was when Vesa arrived.
"I suggest you watch your words," Vesa said, smiling—but his eyes were cold. "You're speaking to members of a recognized guild. And you're embarrassing yourself."
The noble scoffed, ready to argue—
"Enough."
A woman's voice cut through the tension.
The king's third daughter stepped forward, insignia of Strength gleaming on her attire. Her presence alone shifted the air. She looked between them, then smiled sharply.
"If tensions are this high," she said, "why not settle it properly?"
Her gaze locked onto Eira.
"A formal game challenge. No restrictions. Killing permitted."
The music faltered. Murmurs spread through the hall.
The ball didn't end.
But it was no longer a celebration.
It had become a battlefield waiting to happen.