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The Grand Ballroom of Castle Butterfly shimmered with crystalline chandeliers and vases of flower petals. She'd spent three days ensuring every gladiolus arrangement was perfect, their sword-like blooms standing proud.
"You're adjusting your gloves again," Archne murmured beside her, his voice so low only she could hear it over the chamber music.
Astra's hands stilled at her wrists. "I'm allowed to be nervous."
"I didn't say you weren't." There might have been the ghost of a smile on his lips; with Archne, it was always hard to tell. He stood rigidly in his formal attire, the purple of his jacket making his skin seem almost luminous. To anyone watching, he appeared carved from stone: the cold, emotionless demon prince the court expected him to be.
But Astra knew the truth. She'd seen how kind he could be, the way he'd spent hours helping others in the market district, the awkwardness he tried so hard to suppress because his upbringing had taught such things were weaknesses.
"The Honorable Rosengale Jadengold, son of Lord Foxthorn Jadengold," announced the herald, and Astra felt her spine go rigid for entirely different reasons.
Rosengale entered with the excitement of someone who'd been preparing himself for at least a whole week. Dark red hair, greenish golden eyes that had probably inspired his family name, and a smile that would have made her heart flutter two years ago. It still might have, if she was being honest with herself: he was polite, cultured, well-read and genuinely funny when he wasn't trying too hard to impress her.
He was also currently staring at Archne like something that had crawled out from under a rock, even if he was trying his best to hide it.
"My Princess." Rosengale bowed, textbook perfect. When he straightened up, his gaze pointedly excluded Archne from acknowledgment. "You look magnificent this evening. The blue velvet makes you look all the more exquisite."
"Thank you, Rosie." Astra kept her voice neutral, but still used the nickname she had grown used to calling him. "May I introduce Sir Archne Thantos of-"
"We've met," Rosengale interrupted, admiration evaporating from his voice like water in the summer heat. He offered the barest nod in Archne's direction. "Last Autumn. Though I confess I didn't expect to... see you here."
The unspoken words were almost audible: With her. As her guest.
"Princess Astra was kind enough to extend the invitation," Archne said calmly, giving nothing away.
"How... generous of her." Rosengale's smile had gone brittle at the edges.
"My cousin Astra!"
She turned to find Ires cutting through the crowd. Her step-cousin wore his dress uniform, his black hair shining like it had been powdered and polished. Astra could identify in his jaw and in his eyes that he was about to say something she didn't want to hear.
"Might I have a word?" Ires asked, though it wasn't really a question. "In private."
Astra glanced at Archne, who gave the slightest inclination of his head, more resignation than permission. "Of course," she said, forcing brightness into her voice. "Archne, please do help yourself to the refreshments. The kitchens outdid themselves."
"I'll be fine," Archne answered, even though they both knew he would leave the hall sooner rather than later.
It didn't make leaving him any easier.
Ires led her to one of the side galleries, where portraits of past Butterfly queens gazed down with varying expressions. Astra found herself standing beneath her mother's portrait, as if she could still ask for her protection.
"You know what I'm about to say, don't you?" Ires asked, positioning himself so she had to look at him instead of the other paintings.
"I have a few guesses." Astra crossed her arms, a defensive posture she immediately regretted. It made her look petulant, so just as quickly, she forced her hands to her sides. "But do enlighten me."
"Very well." Ires clasped his hands behind his back, every inch a future general preparing to deliver a report. "Since you insist on making me spell this out, I'll list my concerns point by point. So there won't be any misunderstandings."
Something about the way he said it made Astra think of her old tutors drilling language declensions into her head, listing off the various cases until the words lost all meaning.
"First," Ires began, raising one finger. "You've invited a demon to a royal function. Not as a diplomatic necessity, nor as part of treaty negotiations, but as your personal guest. The implications are clear to everyone in that ballroom, even if you're choosing to ignore them."
"Archne is a noble of the Underworld," Astra countered. "His presence here is entirely appropriate-"
"Second." Ires spoke over her objection as if she hadn't said anything at all. Another finger. "You've shown flagrant disregard for the wishes of your family. We've made our preferences clear: the young Jadengold is an excellent match for you. He's of noble birth, proper education and shares your interests. He's been courting you appropriately for over a year."
"I never asked him to-"
"Third." A third finger joined the first two. "Your behavior is causing active harm to the kingdom's stability. Many noble houses are questioning your judgment. There are rumors, ugly ones, about your fitness to rule."
Astra felt heat rising in her cheeks. "Rumors started by whom, exactly? Your mother? Your grandparents? The same people who've been trying to undermine me since I was a child?"
"Fourth." Ires's voice grew harder. "You're jeopardizing the succession. If you continue down this path, if you actually formalize a relationship with... with him... there will be questions about your future heirs' bloodline and right to your throne."
That one landed harder than a rock. Astra had heard the rumors, of course: the courtiers who speculated that her half-sister's future children would be more "suitable" to inherit, and those who looked at her with thinly veiled disdain and wondered aloud about the safety of the Butterfly dynasty.
"Fifth." Ires was relentless now, ticking off his points with impatience. "You're alienating potential allies. Houses that would support you are backing away. They don't want to be associated with a princess who brings scandal to-"
"Scandal?" Astra's voice cracked. "Inviting someone to a ball is scandalous?"
"When that someone is a demon? When the entire kingdom knows you two-" Ires stopped himself, visibly collecting his composure. "Sixth. You're breaking your foremothers' legacy. Queens like your mother understood real duty and diplomacy-"
"Don't you dare." Astra's hands had curled into fists. "Don't you dare use my mother against me. You didn't know her either. You have no idea what she would have wanted-"
"I know she wouldn't have wanted this!" Ires pointed toward the general direction of the ballroom. "A demon and a common blacksmith's daughter. This... this "arrangement" you're trying to fabricate is unacceptable!"
Astra blinked, her face twisting into disgust. "How dare you imply that-?"
Ires paused, something flickering across his face. Maybe fear. He'd expressed something he wasn't supposed to have said. "It doesn't matter. The point is-"
"No, I think it does matter." Astra's mind was racing with both anger and concern. "Seventh concern, is it? My choice in friends?"
"Friends?" Ires nearly spat the word. "Is that what we're calling it? Astra, we're not blind. We know about the weapons merchant's daughter you've been spending time with. We know about the... the "triangle" you're trying to make."
"I know you and your parents better than you think. Don't you dare try anything with her! Or him for that matter!"
"We're trying to protect you! From yourself! From making choices that will destroy everything your family has built!" Ires ran a hand through his hair, disrupting its careful styling. "And eighth: you're proving them right. Everyone who says you're too impulsive to rule. You're proving them right with every reckless decision."
Astra's voice had gone dangerously quiet. "Loving someone is reckless?"
"Loving the wrong someone is." Ires softened slightly, and for a moment, he looked less like a soldier and more like the cousin who'd taught her the basics of fencing when she was seven. "Astra, I'm not saying this to hurt you, I'm saying it because someone needs to. You can't have everything you want. You're going to be Queen one day, and that means sacrifice."
"Means becoming an obedient pet?!" Astra yelled. "Trained to sit, roll over and fetch? Princess Astra, who obeys; Astra the Obedient, whom we control; To Astra the Compliant, to whom we give orders-"
"This isn't a joke!"
"And I agree that it's not!" Astra met his eyes. "It's a list. You just stood here and listed off eight reasons why I'm supposedly unfit, how I failed to be the princess you want me to be." She mimicked Ires, ticking off her own fingers rapidly, mockingly.
Ires stared at her in disbelief. "You're being obtuse."
"I'm being myself." Astra straightened her shoulders. "And here's what you don't understand, Ires. I've heard this before. Different words, same meaning. I've heard it from your parents, my aunt and half the court. They're all trying to undermine me, reshape me until I fit their paradigm."
"Because that's how kingdoms survive! Through proper order!"
"Through forcing people into boxes?" Astra shook her head. "My mother didn't build her reign through strategy alone. She built it through trust and showing people she saw them as they were, not as she needed them to be."
"Your mother-"
"Would have wanted me to be happy." Astra's voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on. "She would want me to make my own choices, even the hard ones. Even the ones that don't fit neatly into other people's opinions."
Ires was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was tired. "The land won't accept this, Astra. And Rosengale..." He paused. "He genuinely loves you, and you know that, but you keep breaking his heart."
"I know," Astra said softly. "That's the worst part. He's not a bad person, he's just... not my person. And I can't be his just because it would make everyone else happier."
After Ires had walked away, or stomped away in Astra's opinion, she didn't return to the ballroom immediately. She stood in the gallery, breathing deeply, trying to steady herself. Her hands were shaking, from the anger, hurt and just the sheer stress of it all.
A throat cleared beside her. She turned to find one of the servants, a young woman who looked apologetic for interrupting. "Your Highness? Sir Thantos asked if they might have a moment of your time. In the rose garden?"