17

The Linzona Hearthlight Market is placed in a wide cobbled square, and is crammed with colorful tents and stalls. Stallholders call out to passers-by, buskers sing and play with hats outstretched, glittering streamers blow in the wind, and lamps send a burnished glow over the whole scene. One huge chestnut tree, bare thanks to the winter months, has been covered with bright green candles, and although they won't be lit until the evening, it's still a spectacle.

The breeze sends goosebumps down your neck, and you make your way to the largest food tent. Spicy flavors and warm fruity scents assail your senses; Gabi moves off with a pair of the other Council members to investigate a crêpe stand. Dominique lingers to sample a cube of smoked cheese from a nearby stall, while Hyacinthe and Trevelyan chat with the stiff manner of people who do not deal with each other often.

The first item on your list is the drinks. You could ask a companion to come with you to scout out the stalls, or you could simply have a look with Asher.

Asher falls neatly into step beside you. Their manner is careful and alert, though they smile when children rush past shouting about sweets.

Soon, you find a stall piled high with liqueurs and juices. The stallholder recognizes you straightaway, and curtseys very low. "Your Highness, what an honor!" she says. "Please sample anything you please!"

Asher eyes the bottles cautiously. "How generous," they murmur.

You survey the rainbow of juice bottles and pick out the most promising-looking flavors to taste. The stallholder deftly pours tiny glasses for you, while her assistant prepares more upon silver trays. As she does so, she murmurs deferentially about how she never dreamed she would provide for Archambault students, let alone royalty; when she asks Asher if she can get anything for them, Asher declines politely, but says it all looks wonderful.

You swirl your glass and sip while the stallholder announces details about the blend of fruits.

You smile and meet Asher's eye as you sip, holding their gaze. Asher's cheeks flush, but they smile before coughing behind their hand and return to their professional poise.

Next

After wandering the tent, picking out an assortment of lunch food wherever you can and eating on the go, you bump into Gabi, Dominique, and a cluster of the other Council members in intense disagreement over a display of macarons.

"Look, we don't have space in the budget," Gabi says. "How would we convince Clemence that gold leaf's vital for the event? What does that have to do with ghosts or whatever, anyway?"

Dominique groans. "They're gorgeous, Gabi, you need to open your mind. I can't believe you're dragging your feet on this."

He turns to you with a puppylike pleading look.

Asher eyes the macarons skeptically. "I'm not sure if they'd actually taste good."

"Exactly," Gabi grumbles.

"Can't we take some of the budget from the curtains?" you say. "I'm sure Clemence won't notice."

Gabi gasps. "You wouldn't do such a thing, would you?" they say, and Dominique sighs loudly.

"Must you be such a stick-in-the-mud?" he says, and he launches into a litany of reasons why gold-leafed macarons are essential for the atmosphere of the party. Gabi bristles and argues; Asher look deeply uncomfortable.

"Maybe we should leave them to it," they murmur.

The mood of the group grows low, and Gabi and Dominique's argument gets sharper and sharper. Eventually, Gabi snaps, "I'm not listening to this," and strides off.

Next

Dominique picks up a free sample of chocolate fudge from a nearby stall. "I thought Student Council would be easier than Drama Club or the Athletics Team," he says. "Clemence is so nice, I kind of thought they'd just do everything for us."

Asher looks baffled, but they don't say anything.

"I mean," Dominique sweeps on, "why is it so hard?"

Dominique groans, but it's more from habit than from real emotion. He plucks a sample of a marinated cherry and pops it in his mouth, savoring it with relish. "You're probably right," he says.

"He is definitely right," Asher says, sharply.

"Oh, Asher, you're so sweet," Dominique says amiably.

For the rest of the day, you explore the market. By the time darkness falls, your feet are aching and your eyes sting from the smoke of street food; the hotel is a welcome break.

The Hotel Awaits

In the evening, you reconvene with the teachers and the rest of the students, eating dinner at a long table lined with candles. Low chandeliers hang above you, their flickering flames making the hall feel deliciously warm compared to the chilly lake outside.

Hyacinthe and Trevelyan are both cheerful enough, as is Asher; Hyacinthe chats graciously to Pascal, discussing the history of the Linzona Theater, while Trevelyan seems to be enjoying provoking Clemence into an argument. Asher tucks into their meal eagerly beside you.

Next

The other groups are in poorer spirits. Beaumont and Mai, the muscular red-haired girl from your classes who joined the Athletics team, are at loggerheads. The pair of them lost some sort of competition, and Beaumont fully blames Mai for it. Javi keeps sharply telling Yannick from Drama Club not to fawn over him. "Of course, Your Highness," Yannick says deferentially, and Javi raises his eyes dramatically to the heavens.

All in all, despite Dominique and the Gallatin students' efforts, dinner finishes with less panache than Pascal might have hoped. "All right, you lot, best that you get some sleep for the journey tomorrow," he says.

The guests wait for you to rise before standing themselves, and you start to make your way towards your room. Dominique lingers nearby, fiddling with his hair while consulting one of the wall-high burnished mirrors. You have the feeling that he'd welcome a chat.

The fire is already lit and flickering away merrily when you return to your room. The windows are darkened; Asher pulls the heavy curtains together to keep in the warmth and give you both privacy while you dress for bed. Once you're both ready, they plumps the cushions on the couch.

They accidentally knock a cushion to the ground, and wince.

"So sorry," they murmur, bending to pick it up. "I…"

They swallow. They're holding the cushion protectively to their middle, and their blue eyes are large and worried.

"I don't know what to do with this," they say, their words tumbling out in a rush. They wave the cushion. "I don't mean this. I mean, you're so—so great, and I know I said we shouldn't, but I haven't known what to say about whatever's going on with us since we talked, and…"