17

Losing yourself in the moment, you watch each graceful leap, each sweep of Hyacinthe's long fingers as they describe a series of deepening arcs. You cannot tell whether Hyacinthe is looking at you. Is she? Or is her gaze simply sweeping over the crowd and making the whole audience feel that way?

The music finishes with a flourish, and Hyacinthe curtseys low and gracefully. Teachers and students alike stand to applaud. Hyacinthe stands straight then, smiling fiercely.

You applaud with the rest of the crowd, and Hyacinthe's dark gaze meets yours from onstage; her eyes shine with gratified pride.

The dessert continues.

Next

Once the plates are taken away, the mingling begins once more. The hubbub rises, and laughter and squabbles alike grow louder. Asher's expression, while polite enough, is tense as they stand close at your side. When Hyacinthe approaches the two of you with a politely lowered gaze, Asher looks even more nervous.

Hyacinthe curtseys to the both of you, and turns to Asher. "Would you please introduce me to His Highness?" she says.

Her voice is soft, with the faintest hint of a northwestern lilt. She's wearing less dramatic makeup now, just a faint smudge of kohl around her dark eyes, and her uniform is immaculate. Her black, tightly coiled hair is braided in an elaborate up-do.

Asher stands up very straight. "Yes, of course. His Highness Hugoz of Westerlin, Miss Hyacinthe Van Clare."

Hyacinthe curtseys again, even more deeply this time.

Hyacinthe inclines her head and smiles, her gaze politely lowered.

"It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness," she says. "Performing for you is something I never dreamed would happen. Thank you."

Her tone is soft and very formal, certainly more formal than Trevelyan's.

Hyacinthe smiles without showing her teeth. "Mr. Griffith is very thorough," she says. "He wants to help us access the best possible opportunities."

She hesitates, just for a moment, as though uncertain whether you were serious.

"I hope you enjoyed the performance, in any case," she says.

"It was marvelous to see you," you say. "It was the best part of my evening so far."

Hyacinthe smiles very politely, but without great enthusiasm. Perhaps she hears such things often enough that, even coming from a royal, it's not anything special; perhaps she doesn't know what to say.

Asher shoulders forward a little. "I thought you were amazing," they say. "I've never seen anything like it."

Hyacinthe beams at them. "Thank you, Mx. Garnett," she says, before turning to watch Pascal and Mr. Griffith ascend the stage. The gong rings.

Next

Waiting for the hectic hubbub of chatter and laughter to die down, Hyacinthe clasps her hands and looks up at the stage. Mr. Griffith coughs meaningfully, just once, and the hall gradually falls silent.

"I'm delighted that you've attended," he says, "and grateful that you've enjoyed yourselves. This marks Archambault and Gallatin growing closer together."

"And so it's a wonderful opportunity to announce," Pascal says, "that we will be running a joint overnight trip to Lake Linzona in a fortnight's time."

Archambault and Gallatin students alike gasp and murmur with anticipation. Pascal beams down at the crowd, looking delighted with himself. Asher, you note, does not look surprised.

Asher examines their fingernails. "I need to know the Academy's plans," they say.

Hyacinthe's face breaks into a huge smile.

"It's my favorite place to visit," she says. "You wouldn't believe how beautiful the water is there!"

"I'm looking forward to going," Asher murmurs.

Hyacinthe's gaze strays in your direction as she speaks about Lake Linzona's landscape and the things to do there, and you have the distinct feeling that she wouldn't be so excited if it weren't for your presence. When she catches you watching, she smiles shyly and looks away.

Up on stage, Pascal raises a hand to gain the crowd's attention once more. "I'm sure Prince Hugoz and Princess Javi would love to give their thanks to the Gallatin staff and students for their hospitality."

Javi practically runs up the steps to the stage. She gives the assembled students a sparkling smile. "I'm delighted to be here, and the food was stunning," she says. "King Mateo will be wildly jealous when I write and tell him."

Pascal looks at you expectantly and beckons you up.

You ascend the stage while Asher skulks at the side, and survey the hall. Dominique looks like he was in the middle of trying to flirt with Hyacinthe, whose attention is far more focused on you and Javi. Beaumont is sitting close to Trevelyan, arms folded, expression stormy; it looks like they were having an argument.

You nod briskly. "An excellent evening all round," you say. "As I'd expect."

The hall erupts in cheering. Mr. Griffith looks restrained but pleased, and claps along with the enthusiastic crowd.

Next

The party draws to a close, and the teachers usher you and the other Academy students to the doors. You follow them, blinking, into the darkness. As you head for the warm pools of light at the drive, the bite of winter in the air hits you; as though they feel the chill on your skin, Asher shivers.

"May I help you with your coat?" they say.

"Do," you say.

Asher holds the coat for you at precisely the right height, then buttons it for you.

Savoring the warmth of good fabric surrounding you, you walk down the drive with Asher at your side. The carriages await.

After Crown Princess Josiane Models Blue Fascinator At Robesberg, Feather Factory Trade Booms

-Daily Letters

Sunlight sparkles on the water of Lake Linzona as your carriage draws up. Your hotel overlooks the lake: it's a looming, baroque building, all majestic dark stone and fanciful turrets. Late-blooming wisteria trails all around the entrance, filling the air with perfume. As you approach, Asher straightens their shoulders, looking as alert as usual but with a hint of excitement.

Dominique falls into step beside you. He looks scattered as he eyes the lake.

"Clemence said we had to sort out supplies for the Winter Ball," he says, "but I can't find the list anywhere. You haven't seen it?"

You shrug; you didn't even see the servants packing the bags. Dominique bites his lip, patting down his pockets.

"Well, anyway," he says. "Are you looking forward to the trip, Prince Hugoz?"

Good. That's good," Dominique says as you head into the hotel.

Your suite is nowhere near the size of your rooms in Archambault, but is comfortable enough. Its arched windows echo its high ceiling; rustic exposed beams contrast against the green-and-gold wallpaper. Your trunk sits beside the bed; Asher puts down their small case on the couch.

"I'll be sleeping here," they say cheerfully.

A grateful smile flashes over Asher's face. "That's so kind, Prince Hugoz," they say. "Though please don't worry about it on my account."

They busy themself with the cushions. Once the room is sorted out to their satisfaction, they excuse themself. You change into fresh clothes for your day: not evening wear, since it's only late morning, but a decently smart outfit for a day event. You opt for something:

You choose an immaculate suit of shimmering white brocade, with close-fitting pants. Perfectly beautiful, and perfectly impractical.

Upon consideration, you pull on a light cape; when you and Asher head outside, you're grateful for your foresight. The wind blowing across Lake Linzona is chillier than the air at Archambault. Asher has changed, too, and is wearing their usual outdoor clothing: plain charcoal-colored pants, white polo shirt and a jacket.

Next

You and Asher head for one of the hotel function rooms, a cozy, low-ceilinged hall with a roaring fire in a vast hearth. A round mahogany table has pride of place in the center; Clemence waves you to be seated, and Asher takes a seat next to you.

Also sitting at the table are Gabi and the rest of the Student Council clustered around Clemence, along with Hyacinthe van Clare and Estell Trevelyan from Gallatin. Dominique is nowhere to be seen, and Clemence looks tense. "Ah! Prince Hugoz," they say as you approach. "I wondered if Dominique was with you? But, obviously not."

Gabi stands up very straight. "I did send a note with the hotel staff to make sure he got up in time."

On cue, Dominique races up to the group with his tie askew and his hair rumpled. "Hello! Hello," he says.

Dominique quails. "Oh, no," he murmurs, shuffling his feet. "That look always makes me feel so bad for disappointing you…"

Clemence cuts him off. "Best that we proceed," they say, and they launch into their explanation.

Next

"The Winter Ball is one of the most important social occasions of the year," Clemence says, "and this winter is no exception. It's the Council's job to make sure it's a success, and in order to do so, you will be making decisions and securing vendors, demonstrating your leadership skills."

"But why," Dominique says, pointing at the Gallatin students, "are they here?"

"Mr. Griffith requested that they attend to assist," Clemence says. "Mx. Trevelyan is here as part of their duties as Head Prefect…"

Trevelyan clasps their hands, looking as though butter wouldn't melt in their mouth.

"…and I'm not sure why Miss Van Clare is here," Clemence says, "if I'm perfectly honest…"

Hyacinthe looks perfectly doe-eyed as she lowers her long lashes. "I thought I could help Estell," she murmurs, and Trevelyan snorts.

"More like you wanted some alone time with the prince," they say. "I thought you'd arranged going to the theater until you heard he was coming out here."

For the first time, Hyacinthe's air of careful composure cracks. "That's not it in the slightest," she hisses to them. "And since when do you care about event planning?"

Trevelyan snorts. "Clearly," they say, but they do not look displeased.

"Now," Clemence says, "part of the approach for this year's Student Council is to give you students more power. The teachers aren't going to just tell you what to do. So I'm going to leave you alone with your itinerary, and you can make your choices along the way. Good luck!"

They hand you a sheaf of papers, smile beneficently at the group, and stroll out. Dominique bites his lip apprehensively. "Well, I suppose we'll get going," he says.

Next

The first point of order is settling on the Winter Ball's theme. The gondola ride will be the focal point of the end, of course, but the atmosphere is all-important.

"I think," Gabi says before anyone else can speak, "that a traditional mountain and snow theme would be best."

Dominique protests that last year's theme was exactly that, and that it will be boring to repeat it. "There's more to Hearthlight than that. What about something ghostly, to represent what we're chasing away with the lights?"

Trevelyan leans forward on their elbows. "Or like the Fools' Night," they say. "I read about it in an old book. Everything's topsy-turvy for the night—we'd get the teachers to dress as staff and serve us food and such."

Hyacinthe raises her hand shyly. "I really like the idea of a rustic, countryside sort of thing," she says. "Could that work?"

They all start talking. One thing is certain: they will not come to an agreement without your input, and since you're the only prince around here, your vote will have the most weight. You choose: