Caelith winked. "You get to keep the item. And eternal bragging rights."
"And if I lose?"
"You get cake."
She squinted. "So I win either way?"
"Exactly."
He bowed low, one hand over his chest. "I’ll see you tomorrow, my lady of sass and secret lilies."
Then he was gone, skipping toward the stables like he hadn’t just dropped five suspicious truths and a mystery.
Fluffy floated beside her, tail puffed. "I *swear* he saw ."
"You’re invisible," Evelisse whispered.
"Exactly. And I have a very odd feeling he saw ."
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
The next day arrived in a sparkle-storm of silks, gloves, and excited nobles.
Evelisse wore a pale mint dress with ruffles like whipped cream. Her gloves were cream lace with tiny pearls stitched into the wrist. She felt very regal. And very nervous.
Snugglewuff was curled on its small fluffy couch. Fluffy hovered above, inspecting the crowd with narrowed eyes.
Town square had been transford. Colorful booths lined the cobbled plaza. Velvet banners fluttered in the wind. A large, circular platform stood in the center where a crystal bell hovered in midair.
Above it all, an enchanted sign read:
THE VELVET GLOVE AUCTION — Bid with Elegance, Win with Flair
Nobles milled about, sipping fizzy juice and tossing gloves onto the stage with practiced grace. Musicians played cheerful waltzes. Glitter floated in the air like magical pollen.
Evelisse stood behind the curtain, staring at the crowd in awe.
"There are so many people..."
Felix peeked out beside her. "They’re here to watch drama. Give them drama."
"I’m not ready," she whispered. "I’m still too young, don’t you think?"
"Perfect age to dominate," Jared added, already adjusting his purple velvet gloves with a flourish.
Lucien stood nearby, reading the auction rules like he was preparing for legal battle.
Lance had covered his gloves in glitter and possibly butter.
"Where’s Caelith?" Evelisse asked.
"Oh," Marcus said casually, "he’s sowhere preparing sothing."
"What—?"
Before she could say more, Jared led her toward a booth.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
Evelisse stood behind a booth with an item shaped like a lumpy moon with freckles.
"It’s a pet rock," she whispered.
"Correction," the vendor said proudly. "A magically glowing, mood-sensing, faintly vibrating emotional companion geode."
"...So a rock that lights up when you’re moody?"
"Exactly, Your Highness."
Evelisse looked at it. It shimred blue. Like it *felt* her confusion.
"I shall na you Pebbleton," she whispered.
"Excuse ," a passing boy said. "Is that rock... actually sweating?"
"I guess so," Evelisse said proudly. "It’s anxious in crowds."
Fluffy hovered beside her. "That is the weirdest emotional support object I’ve seen. I respect it."
"Ladies, lords, and lamplighters! Welco to the only auction where your glove and groove matter more than your coin!"
The crowd roared.
"Next up!" cried the announcer. "Princess Evelisse of House Ashthorne! Bidding her glove on... a glowing rock!"
Whispers swept the crowd.
"She’s so tiny."
"Is that glowing safe?"
"Duchess’s family bids on antiques. The princess bids on sedint."
Evelisse swallowed. Then she removed one lace glove—slowly—and tossed it onto the platform.
It landed with a very royal plop.
"WHO WILL DANCE FOR THE GLOWING PEBBLE?" the announcer bellowed.
Gasps. Silence.
And then—
"I SHALL."
A spotlight hit the platform.
Caelith leapt dramatically over a hedge, sorsaulted midair, and landed beside the rock with a rose in his mouth.
"Please put that down Your Highness," soone said. "It has thorns that are toxic."
He spat it out. "Sorry. Wrong entrance prop."
He winked at Evelisse. "Nice glove toss, partner."
She buried her face in her hands. "Why are you like this?"
"Gifted," he said proudly.
The crowd erupted in applause. Children threw petals. The pet rock glowed orange.
"IT’S EMBARRASSED," Evelisse squeaked.
They danced. Well—Caelith danced.
Oh, he danced.
Ridiculously.
One-footed hops, exaggerated spins, a cartwheel that looked more like a falling pinecone—but sohow, it was hilarious and earnest and so very *Caelith.*
The crowd went wild.
Then she danced.
It wasn’t perfect.
It wasn’t elegant.
But it was honest—filled with twirls and joy and one adorable near-trip that ended in a laugh. She mostly shuffled and tried not to step on anyone. The music was twinkly and far too grand.
Pebbleton sat on a pedestal, pulsing pink.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
Later, she cradled the geode like a hero cradling a war-won treasure.
"Do you think it likes ?" Evelisse asked.
Pebbleton glowed green.
"That ans yes, Your Highness," the vendor said cheerfully. "Or mild indigestion. Either way, it’s yours."
They sat together on a wall at sunset, her legs swinging above the garden.
Caelith dangled one leg lazily over the side.
Fluffy floated nearby, grumbling softly.
"You were weirdly useful," Evelisse said.
"I am always weirdly useful." Caelith leaned back on his hands. "So. What now?"
"I... don’t know," she admitted. "I think sothing is watching ."
"Not *just* , then," he said softly.
She turned. "Wait—what do you an?"
He tilted his head. "Never mind. Probably nothing. Could’ve been a shadow."
But even as he smiled, his hand tightened on the edge of the wall.
Down below, in the courtyard shadows—
A figure stood cloaked in dusk.
In their hand, a strip of fiery red hair.
They scrawled runes across it in ink that shimred with lunar silver.
The wind shifted.
The moon lily—pressed in Evelisse’s silver box in her room—began to glow again.
Bright. Unnatural.
Alive.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
The wind slled like sugar and secrets.
Evelisse and Caelith sat quietly on the garden wall, Pebbleton pulsing calmly between them. Sunset bled gold across the palace spires, and Fluffy floated behind her like a suspicious cloud.
Then—
A soft voice broke the mont.
"Your Highness."
A neat-looking man in deep grey robes stood at a polite distance, hands folded in front of him. His posture was perfect. His tone, smooth as polished glass. Beside him, a silver-armored guard stood silently, watching.
Caelith blinked.
The eunuch bowed. "Prince Caelith of Elaris, your return has been requested. The King and Queen arrived early from the Sea Summit and wish your imdiate presence."
The boy’s smile faltered just a hair. "Ah. I see." He stood, brushing grass from his cloak with an odd finality. "They always have perfect timing."
Evelisse straightened beside him, startled. "You’re leaving? Now?"
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