“WHERE ARE we going?” Kajaan asked plaintively. His best friend, Yolotzin, the Prince of Averia, was currently dragging him between the tables and revelers attending the wedding reception. His shaggy red hair kept falling in front of his eyes, and Kajaan impatiently pushed the coarse locks from his face. He felt woefully underdressed in the presence of so much royalty and gentry, his cheeks burning with the knowledge he was wearing a sweat-stained tunic over ratty breeches. He’d been helping the cook in the kitchen, washing dishes and hauling whatever she needed from the larder for the feast. He didn’t belong in this world. The world of gold, jewels, and glamor. Some Illusionist had altered the ceiling for it to appear as if they were outside with the addition of the shimmering green streak of northern lights that were mostly seen in Valvinte. Ignians and Gales had worked together to create floating paper lanterns for light as the evening grew later and darker. All around them, sharply dressed waiters navigated through the colorful frocks and fine suits with ease. A few hissed at their young prince as Yolotzin pulled Kajaan behind him without a care in the world. Kajaan reached out, desperately trying to undo his best friend’s fingers so he could run and hide. Preferably deep in the dungeons after he’d been dragged in front of so many people. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if it was just Averians in attendance. That wouldn’t do for King Tonalli’s eldest child, though. Princess Saian getting married was apparently a huge deal, and dignitaries from all over the continent had come to celebrate her union to her Fated. Kajaan could pick out the furs and leathers of those from Pemalia, and the slightly thicker furs and wool from Valvinte. The silks and lightweight cotton from Zothua and Bhyvine. The carefully muted and reserved linens of Nabene. Kajaan’s eyes flitted to the Zothuan prince. He was tall, even at fifteen, dressed in beautiful gold silks that complimented both his blue eyes and brown hair. The teenager caught his eye and impossibly, the man smiled at the sight of a servant’s child being pulled around by a child prince. Kajaan stumbled over his feet, and Yolotzin quickly caught him, hauled him back up, and grinned at him. “C’mon,” the prince laughed. “The gardens should be empty.” But why would they go to the gardens? “I have to work,” Kajaan protested, even as Yolotzin dragged him toward the doors. “Tzinny, please, the cook—” “Won’t notice you gone!” Yolotzin interrupted with a giggle. “This is important!” “What’s important?” Kajaan protested. “The wedding already happened!” Kajaan crashed into Yolotzin’s back when the other boy stopped dead in his tracks. He peered up past Yolotzin’s shoulder, considering his best friend was already several inches taller than himself, and blanched. King Tonalli stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a severe look on his face. Behind him, as always, stood Kajaan’s father. The king’s personal guard frowned down at his son, his cheeks slowly pinking, probably from embarrassment. Kajaan immediately dropped his gaze. “Where are you two going?” King Tonalli asked. “Outside!” Yolotzin proclaimed with a grin. “Your friend is not dressed for polite company,” the king admonished gently. “That’s not his fault,” Yolotzin said, huffing as if it was obvious. “Besides, there’s no polite company outside.” “It’s too cold to stay outside,” Kajaan’s father said in a gruff voice. “It’ll be fine for a little bit,” Yolotzin argued, stamping one foot. “It’s important!” His voice had risen enough that a few curious lords and ladies were starting to look over. One of them was Duke Ruvyn, and standing beside him was Lord Kende. The lordling regarded them carefully. He was only a couple years older than Kajaan, but he was a smart kid. Kajaan flushed, feeling his ears grow hot.