Belina is the first to turn and smile up at Arcadia. She holds her hands up high and begins to clap.

“A cheer for Arcadia the Sorceress!”

And cheer they do, as well as a group of stuffy aristocrats can. A few call out Arcadia’s name amid the outbreak of applause, and it makes her beam. Her lips pull into that too-big smile of hers. She takes a bow, loses her balance, wobbles a bit before standing upright again, blushing and grinning. It earns a laugh or two, and the clapping continues. The music starts up again, an upbeat tune with a quick tempo.

Not everyone is applauding though. A few faces in the crowd are visibly shaken by what they’ve just seen. A whirl of red hair catches my eye. It’s Cadie. She’s spun around on her heel and is sprinting down a stone path leading off the property.

The cadence of Marcus Magnotto’s clapping dies down, and he reaches for his goblet again. He looks at me, grins from ear to ear and gives me a light swat on the shoulder. “Your girl is something special!”

My cheeks warm as I grin back. “You don’t know the half of it.”

I glance back at the path Cadie fled down, and a nugget of ice runs down my spine when I see she’s already gone from view. That doesn’t bode well. I don’t have time to dwell on it, however, because Marcus is pushing a fresh goblet of wine into my hand.

I smile, take the wine and have a sip. It doesn’t hit as hard as before, perhaps I’ve dried out a bit because of the spectacle. I nod in Arcadia’s direction. “Want me to introduce you?”

“Not just yet. She looks rather busy as it is.”

That makes me raise an eyebrow, look back in Arcadia’s direction. She’s come down from the rooftop. Belina Magnotto stands beside her, at the center of a cluster of people all trying to speak to her at the same time. Belina appears to be handling introductions, but I can’t make out exactly what’s being said through the general din of conversation.

As I watch, I begin to understand why she wanted to do this. All eyes are upon her, just like Belina said they’d be. What Belina doesn’t know is that it’s quite a change from years of bitter solitude. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Arcadia this happy. She gestures animatedly while she’s talking, and giggles spill out of her every few moments. It almost looks like it’s too much for her. Every now and then she’ll rub her chest, as if there’s a pain there. Her smile never wavers, but it often looks like she’s fighting back tears at the same time.

A restless tightness builds in my chest, as I think about Arcadia surrounded by these people. It occurs to me that belief in the supernatural isn’t something Eceans are known for.

“They’re handling this fairly well,” I say.

“What, you mean the magic?” asks Marcus.

I nod, and he smiles wryly. “It was a beautiful display,” he says. “And when this lot sees something beautiful, they covet it.”

“Even if it’s something they aren’t supposed to believe in?”

“It doesn’t matter if they believe or not. Everyone wants to talk to her regardless,” he says, grinning as he swishes the dregs of his wine around in its goblet. “Your girl there is a hot commodity, not to mention an exceedingly rare one.”

This isn’t helping the anxiety. In fact it makes me want to get to my feet, toss Arcadia over my shoulder and march away from this pool of sharks without another word. My mouth feels dry all of a sudden, so I have a swig of wine.

I sit back, and attempt to relax while I watch Arcadia socialize. Marcus’s words run through my head more than once, and on the second or third pass I find my knee bouncing up and down of its own volition. I imagine going over to that group to try and introduce myself, only to have Arcadia wave me off dismissively.

Oh, she’s nobody. Just some sellsword I met on the road into town.

The sound of wine trickling into a goblet catches my attention. I turn, see Marcus filling the cup in my hand. “It’ll help you relax,” he says. “Looks like you need it.”

I laugh, but it isn’t a strong one. “Thanks,” I say, and have a sip.

There’s a young man in this group I’ve been watching. Jet black hair, fine complexion, a handsome face. And he’s tall, athletic, the build of a fighter in the prime of his strength. He’s been talking to Arcadia since she floated down from the roof, and she’s been giving him more than his share of attention. Lots of smiles and long looks. Belina still stands at Arcadia’s side, but this man now stands on the other. He grins, draping an arm around her shoulders, saying something to Belina that makes Arcadia look down, blushing vividly. He squeezes her shoulder, and she slides in closer to him.

Something about what I’m seeing makes my stomach harden. “Who’s that?” I ask Marcus.

He looks at me, chuckles when he sees the expression on my face. “What, you don’t recognize him?”

“Should I?”

His eyebrow climbs. “I’d hope so. He’s your Praefecti, Cyrus Cato. You said you served in the seventh, right?”

My heart sinks. I let out a sheepish laugh, but when I try to come up with an answer, I flounder.

“You didn’t really serve in the legions, did you,” he says.

I’m quiet for a moment. Then I sigh, shake my head, and have a sip of wine. “No sir.”

When I risk a look at him, I find him grinning at me. “I didn’t think so. You’re no peasant conscript from Nar K’zar. You’re Warrior Caste. I can tell just by looking at you.”

I nod, hold out my goblet and Marcus tops it off without a word. “My assignment was a sensitive one, you could say. I shouldn’t speak about it.”

He sets down the decanter and leans back with his own cup in hand, that grin still on his face. “I had a feeling it was something like that. Your powers are worth quite a bit of coin. That kind of money isn’t spent on the rank and file, generally.”

I laugh again, and this time it’s genuine. “Glad you’re handling my attempt at deception well.”

“You’re in the company of professional liars, my dear,” he says, with mirth in his voice. Then he points at Arcadia, and sort of wags the tip of his finger between her and myself. “Good company for you two, perhaps. I’m thinking there’s much more to you both than meets the eye.”

His gesture brings my attention to Arcadia again. I wish it hadn’t. That man, Cyrus Cato, is whispering something to her. I see him lift a finger to slide a lock of her hair behind her ear before doing so. She blushes, smiles shyly up at him. Then, when he speaks, his bottom lip brushes against her earlobe. She shivers a little. I shiver too, but for a very different reason. Because my heart is suddenly hammering against my ribcage.

Heat fills my chest, floods into to my face and ears. A quiet part of my mind seems alarmed I’m reacting so strongly, but I can barely hear it. A creaking sound startles me, then I feel a splash on my hand and wrist. I look down, realize I’ve begun to crush the goblet I’m holding.

When Marcus notices the state I’m in, he lets out a hearty laugh. “You really like her, don’t you?”

I take a long breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Then I place my dented goblet on the table and lean back, in an attempt to relax. “I’m just a bit surprised. That’s all.”

Marcus shifts in his seat, facing me more squarely so I can be inspected. “Have you told her how you feel?” he says, and his tone suggests he knows I haven’t.

I frown, shake my head. “Not yet.”

He smiles in a way that makes me feel very young. “You’d better go over there and talk to her. Soon. That one, Cato?” he lifts a finger from his goblet to point at him. “Notorious womanizer. He’ll sink his fangs into her at the first opportunity.”

Another head rush as I stand up abruptly. I shake it off, hear Marcus chuckle beside me. “The conversation was good while it lasted,” he says. “Don’t get yourself into too much trouble!”

He lifts his goblet in salute as I march toward Arcadia and the people gathered around her. Her eyes widen when she sees me approaching them, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Just the sight of it sends a pleasantly chilly wave of relief down my spine. This might just go well.

I’m at the edge of the circle of people, stepping in when they reluctantly make room. Arcadia presses herself away from Cato's hold when they do so.

"Ah, everyone, this is my best friend, Rekka," she says. There's still a hint of a pout on her expression when she looks at me, but her introduction feels like an olive branch.

I can see the forced politeness in their expressions when I’m introduced, though some are better at hiding their disdain than others. Julia Agrippa isn’t even trying. I want to slap that snobbish frown off her face, but I look away before thinking about it too much.

“Nice to meet you all,” I say.

“Likewise,” says Cyrus Cato, a smile on his face. “Any friend of this lovely young thing is a friend of mine.”

Arcadia blushes again, looking away from him. I smile with a clenched jaw.

“Good to know,” I reply, in a tone I hope is light and conversational. “We don’t usually find ourselves in fancy surroundings.”

Cyrus takes a moment to look me over, and to my surprise his smile doesn’t waver. “That’s an awful shame. Even a tigress like yourself could use some pampering once and a while.”

Well. This is unexpected. I was trying to come to the rescue here, now I’m a target too.

“You flatter me,” I say, smirking. My eyes shift to Arcadia for a moment, find her fidgeting with her cloak, her lips pressed flat together.

Cyrus leans toward me a little, his smile sly. “I never flatter unless it’s well deserved,” he says. He still has his arm loosely around Arcadia’s shoulders, and after he speaks he flexes it a bit, drawing her closer again.

“I was just about to invite your exquisite friend here to see Belina’s gardens,” he says, looking between Arcadia and I. “Very private, very peaceful. Magnificent view of the city. Shall we?”

I’m searching for excuses immediately. Arcadia appears to be doing the same. She’s looking down, chewing on her lip a moment, before looking at me plaintively. "Rekka, it's getting fairly late, should we make our way to rest for the night?"

That makes me smile. She might be enjoying the attention here, but she doesn’t want to get carried away with it. I nod, and am about to voice my approval, when Belina Magnotto interrupts me.

“Oh, come now,” she says, fixing Arcadia with an indulgent smile as she reaches out to lay a hand on her arm. “You’ve only just finished working your magic! Do stay a while, enjoy the gardens. You can even rest here tonight, if it gets too late.”

Arcadia chews on her cheek in contemplation. Her eyebrows furrow with a weak frown before she nods her head a bit. She exhales out a sigh slowly, "Okay, yes that would be lovely to see."

It sounds to me like one of her old, practiced resignations. Agreeing to do something expected of her rather than what she wants to do. But it appeases Belina and Cyrus regardless. I see them trade a grin, and Belina winks at him. It makes my stomach curdle. Praefecti or no, this man is not going to get what he wants from us.