Dinner was a lively enough affair.

Marie-Fey's father, Izzaro, returned just after they'd all been seated and had been delighted to find Marie-Fey home, pleasantly surprised to meet her ladies and Zaafira, and wary of Zaydan, though he hid it well.

With so many to dine, one of the large dining halls, usually reserved for hosting, was used and conversation flew back and forth with practised ease.

The family made the mistake of putting Beldon and Zaydan opposite each other at the middle point of the table and they politely snapped at each other heels, one studying the other like a particularly unique insect unearthed from under a rock.

Izzaro kept sending Luka worried glances – Luka trying to silently reassure him, but it didn't help much. Beldon was not to be corralled and Zaydan was not to be tempered.

Rosalia put an end to their general discord by ordering they regale the table with any tales of interesting travel. That only resulted in Beldon outlining a dramatic story from war which resulted in a battle being won while Zaydan described a political trip that resulted in a war being stopped before it could start.

That started them off again as one tried to out-preen the other.

It was really quite fascinating to watch from Marie-Fey's perspective.

Beldon hated war – everyone who knew him knew that. He despised his role, his title and his talent for it. But that dinner, apparently that wasn't going to stop him trying to flatten Zaydan's pride with his military prowess.

Zaydan, on the other hand, was also a military man, highly competent with his men and highly competent with his state. But Marie-Fey had never seen him around men his equal and it brought his unshakeable pride to the fore and knocked his usual good-humoured, gentle ease that he displayed around her and the other women of the palace out of the spotlight.

Dinner finally ended with the party splitting up to their various apartments.

Luka marched Beldon out with a hand on the back of his neck to control him, like he were an unruly cat and Zaydan met Marie-Fey's gaze from down the table.

She raised an eyebrow at him before standing.

"Well, you've certainly made an impression on him," she said coolly, leading her party from the dining hall and towards the central staircase.

She directed maids to guide her ladies and Zaafira to their rooms. Zaafira looked panicked and Marie-Fey was reminded that she's sworn to put her in the servants' quarters.

She needn't have worried. Even if Marie-Fey had suggested it, Antoinette would never have heard of it. She played court too well to let an insult against Zaafira in one country give Zaafira cause for backlash against Marie-Fey in another.

Not that she told Zaafira this. She separated from her the ladies without so much as a glance at Zaafira, who was led away to a guest room, with no idea where she would end up.

"I don't see the appeal," Zaydan said once he'd bid goodnight to the women.

"Of?"

"Your brother."

Marie-Fey frowned at him. "Because you cannot or because you will not?" she asked as they walked.

"I will not," Zaydan said.

"Oh yes?"

"No one is perfect. He's flawed and he's hiding that and that interferes with the confidence of those around him. Something is wrong with him, like everyone else. He's not some angel that's taken a tumble from the heavens."

"That he most certainly is not," Marie-Fey said, "he's quite like you in fact."

"How dare you," Zaydan said, gaping at her in horror.

That caught Marie-Fey so completely off-guard she actually laughed out loud. If only he knew the compliment he'd just rejected. Those in court would faint to be compared to Beldon Leigh and Zaydan looked devastated.

Well actually he looked startled, staring like he'd never seen her.

"What?" she said, instantly glaring.

"No, never mind, the moment is gone and your face has reverted back to its usual 'I Wish To Kill The Man Before Me,' expression – that must have been a muscle spasm that jolted a sound similar to laughter from your throat."

Marie-Fey glowered at him.

"That's better, back to normal," he said as they rounded the corner.

That corridor housed Beldon's apartments, another corner would take them to Valentine and Constantine's apartments.

Zaydan was taking the apartments at the end of the hall, his valet opening the door for him on cue.

But Beldon's door was also open, Beldon stood in the doorway, arms folded, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

Luka was in front of him, one hand on his hip, the other forearm on the doorframe above Beldon's head as they talked, their expressions relaxed and private until the door to Zaydan's rooms opened and they jumped, moving apart as they looked first to the sound then to the pair.

"Ah yes, I forgot you'd be up here," Beldon started, right before Luka knocked him in his bedroom and closed the door on him and his outrage.

"He's certainly lively today," Marie-Fey remarked coolly.

"Apparently he finds managing two toddlers more trying that leading a battalion," Luka replied, turning to them.

"Whose bright idea was it to promote him to Lieutenant Colonel, again?" Marie-Fey asked, her tone sardonic but Luka's eyes hardened as he glanced at the door.

"Well, if one gets shot enough times and the enemy still can't kill him, better to show appreciation before his luck runs out."

"Luka, he has the devil's luck," Marie-Fey said, "He'll be fine, he always is."

"Goodnight, to both of you," Luka simply said with a nod of the head before striding away towards his own rooms one door down.

Marie-Fey let out a breath and continued on toward Zaydan's quarters only to realise he wasn't following.

She looked back at him and found him regarding Beldon's closed door with an indecipherable expression.

"What?" she finally demanded.

Zaydan remained quiet for a moment longer, then turned an easy smile on her and she was struck by how it reminded her of Beldon's smile when he was hiding something that disturbed him.

It wasn't common – least it hadn't been when she was home constantly.

It was never common but it always took people by surprise because Beldon's mask was usually so impervious.

Rosalia had a similar smile.

It was the smile they used when a haunting memory clawed at them and they were caught in its grip but didn't want anyone to know.

It was an almost perfect replica of their real smile but didn't quite span the eyes – like looking through a keyhole – and two things struck Marie-Fey about the expression.

One: that she was able to recognise it at all. She hadn't thought herself that aware of Zaydan's various expressions but apparently she was more observant than first assumed.

And two: that he had such an expression at all.

Beldon and Rosalia had it due to suffered traumas.

Luka had it.

Braydon had.

They had all gone through trauma.

Marie-Fey resented that she knew she had it.

But why did Zaydan have it?

She stared at him for a moment. "Why do you look like that?" she asked, the question slipping out before she even thought to catch herself.

But Zaydan just continued to smile, the edge fading away as he walked past.

"No reason of consequence," he said simply – surprising her that he knew what she was questioning. He waved his valet on ahead and smiled back at Marie-Fey. "Goodnight, Lady Fey," he said lightly, before closing the door behind him and leaving Marie-Fey to travel back down to her floor that she shared with her sisters and into her room where her maids waited for her.

Only when she opened the door to her rooms, her maids weren't waiting for her.

What was waiting for her was the woman who had been in her dreams weeks before, screaming at her to wake up right before she'd regained consciousness and thrown up poison.

She was just as Marie-Fey remembered her – not that she'd taken pains to remember the dream figment – but she wore the same gown that was more at home here than in the desert, with long hair tumbling down her back and that pale blue hue around her silvery-white form that illuminated her in the dark room, hair and fabric moving as if she were underwater.

She stood by the window, palm to the glass, turning at the sound of the door opening, fixing her white gaze on Marie-Fey.

And Marie-Fey closed the door on that.

She stood outside her bedroom for a moment, eyeing the door.

Then opened it again.

The woman was still there.

Marie-Fey closed the door and walked away to the end of the hall, just as her maids appeared around the corner.

"Oh, Miss! We're sorry, we didn't realise you were here already," one of the girls said.

"The candles aren't lit," Marie-Fey simply said.

The girls quickly hurried to the room and walked in.

They didn't pause or scream or make any sign that there was something amiss. Soon after, lights bloomed as the candles were lit, one after another.

Marie-Fey peered into the room but it was empty of... hallucinations.

After a moment, she walked in and let her maids ready her for bed as they chatted about what had been happening since she had last been home.

They left, leaving one candle alight for Marie-Fey by the bed and she slid under the covers, eyeing the shadows for a moment, before taking a breath and blowing out the tiny flame, plunging the room into darkness.

She must have stared into the silent black for half an hour.

But nothing appeared before her and eventually the travel on the ship then the carriage ride then all the socialising with her family won over and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, no one and nothing disturbing her until sunlight the next morning.