When Hina was ten years old, she had to say good-bye to Saito Nao.

  She had known Nao since pre-school, as their parents had known each other as friends during college and had been delighted to find out they were now living in the same neighbourhood as working adults. Nao and her had been inseparable, though it had been due to the meddling of their parents more than anything else. Outside of pre-school, their mothers arranged play dates so the two adults could catch up. It had been awkward for Nao and Hina, but they managed to play nicely together for the sake of their parents.

  Nao was just a little older. Bossy and selfish, always needing everything her way. Her mother was quite the permissive woman, just waving off her behaviour. Not wanting to rock the boat, Hina’s mother also asked Hina to just bear with it, because Nao was a ‘nice girl’. Deep down.

  Nao really wasn’t that bad, though. While she did often hog things, she did share. And when other kids at pres-school tried taking anything from Hina, she chased them down with the ferocity of a feral badger. Declaring only she was allowed to ‘share’ with Hina.

  This always continued into their elementary school years, too.

  It was how she noticed that Nao wanted to monopolize her time, her resources, her everything. It was exhausting, but she had equated such behaviour to friendship.

  Nao did not tolerate when things didn’t go her own way. She was just that kind of spoiled, but she could be a good friend when it counted. That’s what Hina had thought, anyways. She never thought her actions were wholly self-serving. Just a selfish girl’s unique way of showing she cared. Hina thought that they had fun.

  And then, all of a sudden, she was cut off.

  Though Nao had said her good-byes nicely, she never contacted her again.

  Even their mothers stopped speaking to one another. It was strange. Hina remembered how sad her mother had been during that time, missing her friend who would regularly get coffee with her every Saturday.

  Hina missed Nao, too, for a time. But she eventually got over it. Because the longer Nao went without contacting her, the easier it became to let the open hole caused by her absence to be filled with other things. Other people. Hobbies and activities she liked to do.

  Hina felt guilty that she felt relief as she no longer needed to interact with Nao.

  It was a gross, uncomfortable feeling.

  But for a time, she thought they could be friends, since Nao had been nicer to her than to others.

  And maybe that was the problem.

  Saying good-bye to Nao was saying good-bye to putting up with the fake niceness.

  After all, despite everything Nao always tried to take Hina’s things for herself. Even when Hina was patient and nice. Even when she had no problem sharing, because she was genuinely unbothered by the idea of not having everything to herself.

  The relationship they had was more out of habit than genuine friendship, she realized later on when she and Nao would meet again. When Nao would talk behind her back to others in their new school, about all the cringey things she used to do as a little kid, wielding their shared past like a weapon against Hina.

  Their mothers were reunited, but they did not meet again every Saturday as they used to. They would politely and awkwardly smile to greet one another, but that divide that was created when she was ten years old never really disappeared. Hina always felt more sorry for her mother than herself.

  Throughout this Hanako had always remained by her side. She was happy to give Hina a bit more, protect what was hers and make sure everything was fair. She was even there when Hina had to say good-bye at their elementary school graduation ceremony. Just waiting on the sidelines for when things were just ending. Ready to hold her hand and help her get through the day. Because as much as she had been uncomfortable, Nao had been a long time staple in her life.

  “I am a flower and you are the sun, and without you I would simply wither.”

  How many times had her friend said that over the years? It was like some secret spell of hers that could bridge gaps, lighten the mood or show the greatest empathy. They were magical, secret words that Hanako spoke that sparked change.

  Hanako said this on the day Hina said goodbye to Nao. And though it had been the end of a chapter, she had a new one to look forward to.

  It was a very tense situation right then in the ballroom.

  There was something of a standstill, while Duke Sinclair was holding off Nicolette from continuing her abusive tirade and the woman who would be empress, glared up at the taller woman.

  “Who do you think you are? Don’t touch me! Don’t you know who I am? I can make you regret this. I am the future empress!” the young woman shouted, breaking the deadlock with her shrill voice.

  Despite Nicolette’s words, Duke Sinclair did not react negatively. Merely keeping a serene smile. However, instead of calming the situation, everyone around them actually felt quite threatened by that same smile.

  “Oh, was that set in stone?” the older woman intoned. “Did the prince marry while I was away?”

  “What? I’m his fiancée,” Nicolette stated, emphasizing on the last word like she was brandishing a dagger.

  “I see…” Duke Sinclair made to let go of the girl, who stumbled back as she hadn’t expected to be released so suddenly. And in the next moment, a slap resounded through the grand hall, all pretense of pleasantness gone from the high noble’s face.

  Nicolette was shocked, left speechless from someone actually having the audacity to strike her in the first place. To her credit, she managed to recompose herself quickly enough to make a rebuttal.

  “I am also the daughter of a marchess –”

  “That is neither here nor there.”

  The words were curt and cold. Duke Sinclair stood at her full height, hands folded behind her back and she stared down the young lady sharply. Even though it wasn’t aimed at her, Soleil couldn’t help how that intense stare made her shiver. How did she shift so quickly from pleasant to this frightening aura?

  “As future empress, you should conduct yourself with more grace. You have a responsibility to represent the Empire, not treat it and its people like your personal punching bags. And who cares if you are a daughter of a marchess? Until you have claimed a title of your own, until you are crowned, you are the lowest of the low. Your father’s title is his and his alone.”

  It was true. There was a reason children of nobles were referred to as ‘lords’ and ‘ladies’. Until they have inherited a title, they were nothing more than lucky individuals in the homes of true aristocrats. They were not referred to by titles unless they somehow earned it on their own through their great deeds. Which meant they had no actual authority, though many liked throwing around the ranks of their parents to get their way.

  Even though she could be a future empress, it didn’t mean that Nicolette had the power of one. People had only allowed her to get away with things because the imperial family had turned a blind eye. Or rather, tolerated it, due to political reasons. There was no love between her and Darius, after all, since in one timeline he discarded her for the gentle and wise Alperene instead.

  Other nobles also let her do as she pleased because her father was a Marchess and he would normally not stand it if his dear daughter was harassed or ever felt any hardship. Not many were on the same rank as a marchess.

  However, today, she came across someone who even had authority on par, or higher, than that of a prince.

  Her father was summoned by the Duke with a quick “Marchess Beaumont!”

  The man had scurried over, to clutch his daughter who was now putting on the waterworks, pleading with him to help her.

  “That rude woman slapped me, father. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Normally, Nicolette would have her way. Normally, Nicolette would be gently coddled and be the winner at the end. However, against all expectations of the court, her father could not be swayed by her crocodile tears this time. Not in front of this person.

  “My apologies, Duke Sinclair,” the man said, shocking his daughter. “My daughter is still young, so she tends to make mistakes.”

  “F-father?!” Nicolette seemed betrayed. She was shushed by her nervous father.

  “Quiet child,” he said to her, before turning back to Duke Sinclair. “I hope you can forgive her this one time.”

  A moment passed in dead silence as the Duke stared at the pair, expression hard to read. Soleil actually began to feel nervous for Nicolette and her father. The duke was something of an unknown to her, as he – she – never made an appearance formally in the book. Soleil had no idea that she was like this, or that she would be judging the usually unruly Nicolette in the place of the Crown Prince who should have been at the gala with the female lead.

  Her smile returned, though it did not reach those flashing red eyes.

  “Make sure to educate your daughter well,” Duke Sinclair said. “If she is meant to be the future of this Empire, then she needs to be less of a disappointment to all nobles.”

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  Seeing that the Duke had chosen mercy, the Marchess thanked her for her wise words, dragging Nicolette with him, most likely out of the gala entirely. She’d not only caused a scene during the Emperor’s birthday, she also stood in the path of the infamous Duke Sinclair.

  And just like that, much like her appearance in the Saint’s Thorny Road, she appeared quickly and left just as fast, stage right.

  Things slowly went back to normal now that the show was over, music beginning to play once more and people opening up the gossip mill.

  Soleil let out a breath and made to leave the scene, too, since her objective for the gala had been met. Neither prince nor saint candidate had shown up, so she needed to think about her next steps to secure her own safety.

  “Lady Soleil?”

  Of course, one possibility was standing right there.

  I’m not ready. I don’t think I can face him – her, just yet.

  Duke Sinclair truly embodied the trope of a duke of the north, where the Sinclair territory was found. An intimidating presence that promised something dire when crossed. With dark hair and red eyes indicative of someone who most likely had a bloody disposition, gender notwithstanding…

  “...Have I upset you, my lady?”

  …and she sounded so disappointed.

  Though the scene that played out had been a little scary to watch, it had technically been done in her defense, wasn’t it? Taking a breath, she forced herself to look up at the Duke, who stared back with a slight pinch of her brows, the only indication she was concerned when the rest of her expression was neutral. Seeing that Soleil’s shoulders sagged a little and she let her guard down so she could speak normally with the other woman.

  “Oh, no, your grace,” Soleil replied, remembering her manners. No way was she chancing angering someone who had just chastised someone else for not following decorum.

  “Florian.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I told you my name before. My name is Florian Evanthe Sinclair. But…I’d prefer it if you referred to me as Florian.”

  Soleil had no idea why, but the duke telling her it was all right to use her first name just seemed wrong. It felt too intimate and a little embarrassing.

  “I…I couldn't do that, your grace.” Deny, deny, deny. Look at her body language. Short of crossing her arms in front of her, her whole being was exuding the very word ‘NO’.

  The duke, Florian, simply gave her a startlingly dazzling smile in response.

  “You know, that’s twice I helped you,” she pointed out, practically sparkling now after she brought up this irrefutable fact.

  Soleil could feel each word stabbing her in the head as she was reminded of the horseback ride they shared earlier that same day. If only she hadn’t gotten lost, then it’d just be one thing she’d owed the duke, not two. How worrisome.

  But she couldn’t deny the truth. “Th-that’s true…”

  “So, please…just Florian is fine,” Florian implored earnestly. “I consider us friends at this point.”

  “Fr-friends?”

  A moment ago Florian had the air of someone who murdered people for the smallest slight and now she seemed just another person, hurt from being seemingly spurned by someone she treated well. Soleil was experiencing quite the mental whiplash trying to reconcile the two images. She was much closer to the gentle, mysterious lady knight she met at the Orchid Villa.

  “...Duke Florian.”

  “Florian.”

  “Duke Florian.”

  This was not something she would budge on, lest people misunderstood their actual relationship. And seeing she would not, the duke actually let it go. Better a half victory than nothing at all.

  Chuckling softly, Florian acquiesced with an elegant bow.

  “As you wish, Lady Soleil. If my lady could grant me a simple request as a reward for rescuing you?”

  As if being made to use her first name wasn’t enough? She felt like she would actually lose this time, whatever the request was, so Soleil nodded in agreement, pink hair shifting with the action.

  “I would very much like to dance with you,” Florian said, offering her hand.

  Soleil was caught off guard by the request. A dance? With her?

  “Wouldn’t that be a bit much, Duke Florian?”

  Florian shook her head, and continued to hold out her hand.

  The young lady looked at the offered hand, then around her. The initial awe of the duke’s arrival and the previous drama had died down and she and Florian were now once again just extras in the background with everyone else. The two leads were not coming, the time for them to arrive having already passed with Duke Florian’s arrival. Surely there would be gossip about the unfilial prince missing out on his beloved father’s birthday come morning. She did not need to be here anymore as her will to remain was dashed thanks to knowing she had wound up in the doomed timeline where many innocent lives would be taken.

  But since she was here, she could allow a single dance, but not without a bit of a runaround. Duke Sinclair should understand what she was getting herself into.

  “I must warn you…I have two left feet,” she said.

  “I do not mind, my skill will make up for it,” Florian countered confidently.

  “I stomp around like a troll,” Soleil offered.

  “I am sure my lady will be the most charming troll on the dance floor,” Florian replied, without missing a beat.

  “I will break your feet and possibly the floor,” Soleil added in, a hint of desperation in her voice.

  “And you will leave charming little cracks,” Florian stated, unbothered and amused.

  Soleil realized she was being teased!

  Florian chuckled, knowing the jig was up.

  “I will, of course, respect when someone says ‘no’. However, I really would like that dance. Please?”

  The hand was truly an offering, not a demand. Florian was not simply going to grab her hand and pull her onto the dance floor against her will, nor pressure her through devious tactics, which was a classic move in many a romance novel. She simply waited respectfully for her consent or direct rejection. And it was on the tip of her tongue, an emphatic ‘no thank you’. However, it stayed where it was, unable to move forward.

  For whatever reason, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse for real, even if she felt unsure and awkward about it.

  Something about this moment tugged at her heart, pulled a nostalgic memory from her past life…of another hand offered that she never took.

  And never be able to have a chance to ever accept again.

  Oh, what the hell? I can mope about being doomed later. What’s one dance?

  Her hand was softly placed into the duke’s and though her face was schooled into a serene expression, her eyes seemed to light up quietly at having the offer accepted.

  “I really will break your feet,” Soleil warned as they walked to the larger dancing area to find a space for the two of them.

  “And that will be my problem, not yours.”

  The music playing was for a waltz. Couples around them swirled in a myriad of colours and dazzling jewels, moving in perfect harmony with the music. Soleil and Florian found a spot with enough room for the two of them to take position. A hand holding hers and the other lightly on her hip, the duke led the noble lady through the steps as she took the lead.

  Soleil was having trouble keeping up, or more likely, the young woman was worried about where her feet were stepping. Her eyes were constantly on the floor, and she was almost cramping her legs in trying to perform the lightest steps. Though she threatened crushed feet, it didn’t mean she wanted to hurt anyone, especially on accident.

  It was uncomfortable and Soleil prayed for the song to end faster, mentally urging the violins from repeating another refrain, for the piano to fall silent so she could leave with her dignity unharmed and Florian’s feet unscathed. And yet, no matter her mental pleas, the song continued for what felt like an eternity of straining strings and an endless piano harmony that became more dirge-like with every clumsy step she took.

  “Keep your eyes up on my face,” Florian whispered quietly, during a lull in the tempo. “Just look at me.”

  “I…I can’t do that,” Soleil said. Staring into the other woman’s face felt like more than she could handle on top of everything else.

  “Then just look into my eyes.” The duke’s eyes fluttered then, almost playfully showing off her dark, long and luscious lashes. Florian adjusted their positions, pulling Soleil closer, making her squeak a little. As her attention was on the duke’s eyes and not at her feet, she had to trust in the strange noble’s lead more.

  As the violins rose into a crashing crescendo of music that made the heart pound, Florian swept them both up into the rhythm of the song. The faster pace made Soleil have to move a little quicker, her breath catching in little gasps when her partner spun her expertly. No matter if she set her foot to fall heavier than normal, a little shake following each step, Florian kept them moving, expertly dodging while keeping things light and fun.

  And as she was spun out and then back into her waiting arms for the umpteenth time, Soleil did find some joy out of the occasion. Her mind nowhere near thoughts of doom and gloom, nor the worries of shaming herself or harming her partner. Florian easily lifted her at the right moments, making her feel floaty and light as a feather. Her body relaxed and her body moved more fluidly, Florian doing an excellent job leading the way as well as making Soleil forget how many song had passed.

  It was simply too fun to stop dancing now that she was knowing the full joy of it for once in two lives.

  A laugh erupted from her lips as she was twirled once more under Florian’s expert hand and caught so effortlessly. All the while, caught in ruby red eyes who held Soleil’s attention captive. A fondness shone in those sharp eyes, one she couldn’t quite explain. But she was never allowed to ponder on it for long as she was turned and turned and turned until she was utterly breathless.

  There was no way for Soleil to know how long she had been going until she heard the palace clocktower chime in the distance. The loud, resonating ring of the hour told her that it was now an hour long past the time she had chosen to first begin dancing with the duke. And though it was nowhere near midnight, it pulled her back to reality just as it did for Cinderella. It was time for this magical moment to end.

  Cheeks rosy and her breathing quick, Soleil looked up at her dance partner with gratefulness and happiness.

  In turn, Florian reached out and picked up a stray lock of hair that had loosened during their dance. Soleil thought the other woman would tuck it back, but she simply and gallantly, brought it to her lips as she had earlier, giving it a kiss.

  “Thank you for the dance, Lady Soleil.”

  “It was my pleasure, Duke Florian.”

  It looked like there was more for the high noble to say, yet her attention was drawn elsewhere, over Soleil’s shoulder. She chanced a look and saw her father coming over, looking quite flustered. Oh, had he been looking for her among the crowd? He saw her and waved, hurrying to close the gap now.

  Florian gave a little disappointed sigh. “It would seem time’s up.”

  A gentle nudge on her back followed.

  “Go to your father, my lady.”

  It would be wise to do so, especially at the duke’s insistence. However, still wrapped up in the moment, Soleil couldn’t help, but to ask,

  “Will I see you again?”

  This time Florian looked to be caught off guard going how her brows raised up to her hairline. However, it soon softened and though it was not overtly affectionate as her gaze held onto Soleil’s form for a bit, the ghost of a satisfied smile played on the duke’s lips.

  “If I may be blessed with your sunshine, it would be welcomed.”

  A promise left in the other's court, so that Soleil would have the power. The choice of whether or not she visited later on, given out of courtesy.

  Not keeping her any longer, Florian gave her one final bow before sweeping off with a whirl of her cape, disappearing into the crowd.

  Soleil had watched her back for a few moments (feeling confused, happy and weirdly bereft all at once) before turning back around to go meet with her father so that they could finally call it a night. There was a lot to think on and she suddenly realized how tired she felt. In a strange, happy-sad way.

  As she sat in her room after she arrived back at the Rose Villa with her father, being helped to get ready for bed by a chattering Marianne who wanted to know all the details, Soleil looked at her hand.

  Not long ago, it held someone else’s as she danced wholeheartedly for the first time in her life.

  Despite the dire circumstances coming back to haunt her now that the clock had struck midnight on that magical moment, she couldn’t help the hope blooming in her heart.

  The proverbial glass slipper was left and only time would tell if she could reach her happy ending.