When Theonis arrived above deck, Dimileios and Myrova were already waiting for him. Myrova was holding onto the boots they’d bought him the day before. They were knee high and the same dark green as his dress, with a lot of laces. What was she doing with those?

“You need to put these on,” Myrova told him, handing the boots over.

Theonis obliged, but asked, “What are we doing here?”

“Nikoris interprets you as a girl,” Dimileios reminded him. “If we’re going to persuade him to help us, you need to act the part. So I’m going to teach you how to dance like a socialite. Myrova has agreed to help.”

“I’ve never danced before. Do I really need to know how?”

Myrova assured him, “It’s just a precaution. We want all of our angles to be covered.”

“Very well.”

Theonis finished lacing up his boots and took a few small laps to get used to them. They were a little snug, but comfortable. Once he was ready, he came to a stop in front of Myrova.

“Women in high society,” Dimileios began, stepping forward and grabbing Theonis’ arm, “traditionally take a more submissive position, letting the man lead the dance.”

He placed Theonis’ hand on Myrova’s shoulder. Myrova placed her hand at the small of Theonis’ back and clasped his other with her own, scooting closer to him. Theonis could feel his face turn red.

“You need to be sensitive to her physical movement,” Dimileios said as Theonis stumbled. Myrova’s movements were just too sharp for him to keep up. “Don’t try to rely on visual or verbal cues. Don’t rush; you need to be patient and wait long enough for you to fully understand what direction she’s moving in.”

Myrova slowed down a little bit, making things easier on Theonis. He closed his eyes and tried to feel her movements. It took a while, but he was able to consistently follow her lead without stumbling over himself. It was actually kind of fun.

“Good, keep going like that,” Dimileios said. He continued talking, but a little more quietly, “Hopefully Nikoris will be amenable to our pleas this time. I was hoping that he wouldn’t just turn out like his father. If anything, he’s worse. I doubt his employees get any more respect than they used to.”

“Theonis, pay attention,” Myrova said.

He focused on her, but Dimileios continued muttering to himself.

“Collecting artifacts that the rest of us worked so tirelessly to find is just a show of power for him, isn’t it? He doesn’t actually care about their value. He’s doing it because he can.”

“Theonis.”

“I’m paying attention,” he protested, not looking directly at Myrova.

Her face was so close. Theonis’ whole body was warm. And it wasn’t just the exercise making his breathing shallow. She could probably tell how he felt, too! Oh, she was going to think he was such a pervert!

“Myrova,” Dimileios said, finally turning his attention back to them, “you should probably speed it up a little bit now that he’s got the basics down.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, speeding up before Theonis could protest.

He went back to tripping over his own feet. Occasionally, Theonis would glance down, and Myrova would have to tell him to stop. Somehow their bodies had gotten even closer. Theonis couldn’t breathe without soaking up Myrova’s natural scent. Sweat was forming on his forehead.

She flashed him a playful smile and Theonis’ heart leapt. Did she like him? Was that possible? Or was he reading too deeply into nothing? How was he supposed to know?

Myrova came to a sudden stop and Theonis nearly tripped. He was breathing heavily. Her head was right next to his. For a moment, she started to lean in and close her eyes. Her lips parted slightly. Theonis’ breath caught in his throat.

Then Myrova opened her eyes and pulled away, muttering something under her breath.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, not looking at him.

Dimileios cleared his throat, grabbing their attention.

“It will have to do, I guess,” he said. “With any luck, you won’t actually be asked to dance. Or at least not to a fast number. Theonis, have you thought about what you’re going to say to Nikoris when you see him again?”

“Um, no, not yet.”

“Give it some thought before tonight. Thank you both for coming.”

He turned and walked away. After a moment, Myrova spared Theonis a glance and made to leave too. Theonis followed after her.

“Myrova, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s nothing.” She didn’t even turn to look at him. “I’m just being an idiot.”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Theonis told her. “You know that whatever it is, I won’t judge. Am I doing something wrong?”

Myrova stopped and turned to face him, her expression pained.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Theonis. I just… I’m worried that I might be wrong about this.”

“About what?”

“I wish I could tell you. But please, for my sake, just drop the matter for now, alright?”

“…Alright.”

“Thank you.”

Theonis went down to the cargo hold to help Kosgoris take care of the animals and supplies. He barely said hello to Kosgoris and didn’t make eye contact with anyone as he worked. His mind was entirely wrapped up in the almost-kiss that had just happened.

Did this mean that Myrova liked him too? And what was it that she was so afraid of being wrong about? Did she worry that he didn’t like her back? He had to correct that. Somehow, he’d show her his feelings. Maybe at the ball, they could—

The ball. A nugget of anxiety settled in the pit of Theonis’ stomach. That was coming up. He had to stay focused. Everything rested on him and Dimileios convincing Nikoris to help them. Theonis couldn’t afford to be distracted by romance right now. It would have to wait until after they were on their way to Agathula. Or would that just make the expedition itself awkward? How long did Theonis have to wait before confessing his feelings? And what did this mean for his feelings about Polithea?

After a while, Kosgoris insisted that they break for a small snack. He’d brought some fresh bread and cheese from the galley for them to chew on and recover their strength. Theonis ate quietly, still consumed in his thoughts.

“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about,” Kosgoris said, finally getting Theonis’ attention. “I talked to Satiria a little bit and listened to what she had to say. Specifically, she seems worried that you don’t really consider yourself to be a true Pelakevian like the rest of us do.”

Theonis swallowed and stared down at the platter of food. He’d been so relieved the day before that Satiria hadn’t confronted him directly when she had gone off on her little tirade in the shop. And now Kosgoris, the person who had insisted they put the matter aside to focus on work, was bringing this up to him?

“I’m not really comfortable talking about this,” Theonis admitted. “Especially not while I’m working.”

“I understand that you’re on uneasy terms with Satiria, but I think that this is important to talk about. You belong here just as much as the rest of us. You know that, right? Just because you came from a small island doesn’t mean you aren’t part of our culture.”

“She put you up to this, didn’t she?” Theonis asked, bristling a little. “This is just another way of trying to convince me that I’m in the wrong, isn’t it?”

“Theonis, that’s not what’s happening. Please calm down. Take some deep breaths.”

He obliged, but didn’t look Kosgoris in the eye. What was it going to take people to leave him alone? He wasn’t a bad person!

Kosgoris continued, “I know that you’re afraid of being judged. That much was obvious from when you tried to hide the pendant from us. And you don’t need to explain why; I believe that you have a good reason. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just want to have a conversation.”

“Why couldn’t Satiria come talk to me herself, then?”

“I’m not doing this on her behalf, I promise.”

Theonis sighed, then finally looked Kosgoris in the eye.

He asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

“I’ve talked to some of the others,” he said, “and they get the impression from some things that you’ve said that you feel very out of place, specifically because you grew up very isolated. Is that true?”

Theonis nodded.

“I think that it’s important for you to find a way to connect to your identity as a Pelakevian. I think that it will especially help to frame how you see our mission and why someone like Aylmer poses such a threat to us and our goals. You need to find ways to feel like you’re really part of the group to take away that feeling of being like an outcast.”

For a moment, Theonis was silent.

Then he mumbled, “I don’t think I’m comfortable talking about this. I’m not doing anything wrong and it feels like you’re telling me that I am.”

“That’s not my intention, Theonis.”

“Can we please just stop talking about it?”

Kosgoris sighed, then nodded.

“If that’s what you wish. But please think about what I’ve said, okay?”

“Okay.”

They returned to work after that, but things were tense. Theonis didn’t say anything further to Kosgoris. It wasn’t just the conversation, though. The ball was tonight and he was turning ideas of what to say to Nikoris over in his head.

“Theonis,” Kosgoris finally said, “if I made a mistake in bringing up what I said, then I apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Thank you. And it’s okay, I forgive you. But… can I go early? I want some extra time to get ready for the ball.”

“Of course.”

Theonis returned to his room and laid out his dress and underwear out on the bed. He spent a long time just pacing the room. Was he really going through with this? Did he even have a choice? Why were there so many butterflies in his stomach?

Eventually, there was a knock at the door. Myrova and Polithea had arrived to help Theonis get dressed. It felt weird to have them in his room. Even though they turned away, Theonis was shaking as he changed into the underwear he had to wear with the dress. Even though they covered most of his torso and legs, he still felt somewhat naked.

Myrova helped Theonis into his dress while Polithea did his makeup. When that was done, Theonis pulled on and laced up his boots. His breathing was shallow and he was already starting to sweat through his foundation. Making matters worse, he had to help Myrova into her own red dress while Polithea did her makeup. Seeing Myrova in her underwear felt wrong, like he was invading her privacy.

“Alright, now the accessories,” Myrova said, opening the small chest she’d brought with her. As she affixed Theonis’ earrings, she asked, “How do you feel?”

“Nervous,” he replied.

“What about the outfit?” she continued, “Are you comfortable? Do you feel like more of yourself while you’re wearing it or do you feel like you’re pretending to be someone else?”

“I… I don’t know,” he whimpered.

As she slid the bracelets onto Theonis’ arms, Myrova asked, “Do you ever feel secretly glad that people sometimes mistake you for a girl?”

Theonis didn’t answer.

“How about this: if there was a book that you could write your name in and the next day you would wake up as a girl, would you write your name in it?”

Theonis’ vision was blurry. Why was she asking him this? His entire body was shaking from stress.

“Myrova,” Polithea said quietly, “can you give me and Theonis the room for a little while?”

Myrova spared one last glance at Theonis before replying, “Alright,” and stepping outside.

Polithea sat Theonis down on the bed and sat down beside him.

“Theonis, I need you to breathe. Slowly, in and out. That’s all you have to do.”

He followed her instructions. Slowly, he stopped shaking. Polithea took out a small handkerchief and dabbed the edges of Theonis’ eyes to wipe away the tears.

“Talk me through your feelings,” she said.

He started unloading his thoughts like a siv. “I don’t know who I am. I don’t belong anywhere. I can’t be the person that people see when they look at me. Every time I think about tonight I’m so nervous, but I’m also excited and I don’t understand why and it’s just eating me up inside and I think Myrova likes me and I don’t know what to do about it and—and—and—and—”

He was hyperventilating. Polithea placed one hand on his shoulder and another on his chest and helped him steady himself again. Once his breathing was back to normal, she grinned wryly.

“Theonis, you are such a girl.”

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry. I meant that in the nicest possible way.”

He struggled not to grin as heat rose up in his cheeks.

“Anyway,” Polithea continued, “you don’t have to be nervous. I promise you that you’ll do well tonight. How about I escort you above deck so we can meet with everyone?”

Theonis nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Polithea placed the hair clip in his hair and then took him by the hand. They rejoined Myrova outside the room and headed above deck.

In addition to Theonis and Myrova, Dimileios, Satiria, and Kateni were all coming. Satiria was dressed in a blue dress similar to Theonis’ and Myrova’s, while Dimileios and Kateni were dressed in similar grey suits. Kateni had a sword on each of her hips as well.

It was actually a little embarrassing for Kateni to see Theonis like this, given the amount of time that they had spent sparring. She was such a warrior and Theonis was so feminine by comparison. What must she think of him?

Then Kateni nodded at Theonis and told him, “The outfit suits you,” and his blush became somehow even more intense.

“Alright!” Dimileios said, getting everyone’s attention. “Here’s the plan. Theonis and I will speak to Nikoris alone, using flattery and persuasion to convince him to let us study the artifact. Satiria will study the artifact once we get to the collection. Kateni and Myrova are there in the event that—worst case scenario—something goes wrong.”

Theonis nodded, glancing over at Myrova. He suspected that Dimileios had asked her to come partially as emotional support for himself. This was going to be a difficult night for Theonis and he certainly appreciated it.

“Are we ready?” Dimileios asked. “Let’s go.”