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Students are taken by gilded carriage to the venue for this year’s Feast of Cups: the Fatefinders Club.

To this day, it’s the largest social venue in Eclipse City.

The Starcrossed Club spent years competing with—and trying to steal clientele from—the Fatefinders Club, which has turned out to be a boon.

The Starcrossed Club already had knowledge of the establishment and its people well before tonight.

But that doesn’t stop my nerves from making my stomach flip.

When the carriage door swings open, I am the first to step out.

Some second years from House Swords whose names I’ve only just learned shared the ride with me.

Alor went on ahead with her sister—business to attend to, as she’d said.

The marbled facade of the venue glitters brightly in the magical glow of lamplight.

A black carpet with the Major Arcana as constellations dancing across it guides us into the grand entrance.

Positioned on either side of the doors are rows of footmen, all of impressive build.

Some break away to offer to take coats and capes to a cloakroom.

Others remain poised like statues. I’m sure most of the nobles see them as little more than staff.

But I see the Fatefinders Club’s security gathered in force… including a familiar face.

Gregor does a good job of not acknowledging me as I pass. Not even a flick of the eyes. He’s such a lovable oaf around the house that I forget just how good he is whenever he’s given a job.

The main room is a feast for the senses: crystal chandeliers, the overwhelming aroma from the fresh flowers that drape between every column intermingling with the intoxicating scents of spiced liquors and a spread of mouthwatering food, and a full band that serenades all those gathered.

Most of the individuals initially pay me no mind.

I’m just another in a long string of students making their way into the banquet hall.

Even if I might be one of the most fabulously dressed people here.

But the most valuable things in all my satin and lace are the cards that are hidden in the pockets of my dress.

A deck, complete with two silver Majors—the Chariot, and my own.

Though I’ve never ventured to use it since my fight with Eza.

The card seems far too unpredictable and unclear for my liking—all Kaelis could find in his texts about Fortune is that it shifts fate.

Hardly reliable. Next to my deck there are five forgeries to exchange for the king’s cards.

And one additional forgery, possibly for Kaelis.

But that’s a decision I don’t think I’ll fully make until the moment.

The main area stretches out beyond the banquet tables.

Music booms off the tall ceilings. I recognize many of the nobles dancing.

Lord Ventall catches my eye. A woman with hair a similar silky straight texture as her daughters is wrapped in his arms, gracefully spinning across the dance floor.

But I don’t see those daughters anywhere.

Nor do I see any of the royals. But the crowd is dense. It seems like every clan has turned out tonight to meet the new students they will soon lay claim to. Just as I’m about to hunt for Kaelis, my path is unexpectedly blocked by a familiar figure.

“Oh! Oh. Clara.” Liam barely stops himself from bumping into me. “It’s good to see you again.”

He always was an awful liar. Instead, I say, “And you as well.”

“Congratulations on making it through the first year of the academy. I hear you were a triumph all the way through. Minus a few scandals.” He smirks, and I wonder which of my many scandals he’s referring to.

“Thank you.” Etiquette and not wanting to make a scene are the only things that stop me from moving away as quickly as possible. “Where’s your wife?”

The moment I ask, I realize this situation is familiar.

The words aren’t the same. Nor is the way he’s looking at me.

But there’s a striking sensation of similarity.

Was this what was meant to be the moment I discarded in the Arcanum Chalice?

Is what’s happening now a twisted alteration due to my sacrifice?

My stomach goes from flipping to knotting in an instant.

“Listen, I should’ve—”

I hold up a hand, stopping him. “I’ve heard it before. It’s fine.”

“Heard it before? You mean in the Arcanum Chalice?” It seems my mind wasn’t the only one to venture there. I expected him to find out about what happened on the day of the Fire Festival, but I was content never having to confront him with it.

“Must we talk about it?” I glance around him, hoping to see Kaelis.

“I wanted—want to. I tried to the night of the soiree. But…” He trails off. That brings my eyes back to him. “I suppose it’s all the same.”

“The same as what?”

“When I went off to the academy.” He shrugs. “You didn’t want to talk then, either.”

“What are you talking about?” I phrase the question partly as a demand for him to speak plainly.

There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. Of old wounds that I know all too well but didn’t expect to see mirrored in him. “I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me after you never responded to my letters.”

“What letters?” My voice has dropped to a hush. My lips don’t even close all the way as shock settles on him as well.

“I…I wrote to you, multiple times throughout my first year. I admit, not right away, you know how chaotic it is those first few months.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I should have. I’m sorry if they arrived too late and—”

“ Nothing arrived.” My heart is pounding. “I never got a single letter from you.”

We stare at each other in a silence that’s loud with the ringing ears of disbelief.

What could’ve been? The question I’d wholly let go of returns with a vengeance.

“I don’t know what happened to them…” He’s somewhere between stunned and horrified.

Something the Chalice version of Liam said returns to me: I was identified by Clan Star early in my first year. If they identified him, if he was already chosen as a potential mate for someone…

My stomach churns, and two things dawn on me: The first is that I don’t love him, not anymore. Maybe I’ll live forever wondering about what could have been. But that doesn’t change the flow of time that has created a gulf between us.

The second is horror at the realization of what he might have put in those letters…If they were intercepted, who took them, and do they still exist?

“See if you can find out,” I say.

“I think it’s a bit late for that.” He laughs softly, somewhat sadly. He’s not following, and I can’t make up my mind about how much I want to say.

“I’m engaged to the prince now, Liam. I’d rather not have old love letters come back to haunt me, if you catch my drift.” I force a little smile, trying to simultaneously express severity while also not seeming too bothered. I don’t know how much I can trust this man as he is now.

“ Ah, of course. Well, I doubt there’s anything I’ll find, but I’ll take a look.”

“With the utmost discretion, please.”

“I’ll do my best.” He hovers, and I can feel all the words left unsaid drifting around us. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Thank you.” I nod.

He takes two steps backward, eyes holding mine, before turning and leaving.

Liam strides over to his wife and engages in a brief conversation.

Her attention darts my way, and I offer a warm smile—anything else would probably come off as more suspicious.

She hooks her arm with Liam’s and ushers him away.

I feel like I have my answer already about the letters…

Don’t worry, I wish I could tell her as it dawns on me that this, without doubt, was the moment the Chalice showed me. I don’t want him. He’s yours. Just don’t come after me …

Kaelis slides in beside me, seemingly out of nowhere. The noise and music and crowd—it all vanishes with his presence. A bubble of easy silence envelops us.

“What did he do?” Kaelis asks, misreading the concern on my face, eyes darting toward Liam.

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” A frown tugs on his lips. “I would love a reason to end him; give me one.”

Instead, I give him an almost contented smile. “Liam and I have been ended for a long time…No need to dig up the grave.”

“Good,” he says, though I suspect part of him still wishes I’d given him a reason to go after Liam and end it in a different way. “Then, in that case, may I have this dance, my love?”

My love. The words strike me. He’s never called me that before. I try to tell myself it’s just for the benefit of the crowd around us, but…

“Clara?” My name on his lips feels like a lover’s caress. I’ve heard him say it a thousand times, and yet it sounds different tonight.

“Kaelis?” I should show him the proper respect, if not as the headmaster, then as a prince. But I can’t bring myself to do it. You’re not above me, I remind him with the name. Doing so only makes him smile.

“Dance with me?” He offers me his arm.

“Always.” I take it, fingers brushing over the soft wool of his coat.

His clothing is understated tonight. Of all the times I would’ve expected him to lean in to his inclinations toward luxury and excess, this would be it.

But he’s dressed in a black suit—as impeccably tailored as ever.

A vest of the same material is underneath, over a pale gray shirt.

As he leads me to the floor, I notice the faint silver embroidery on the shoulders and lapels of his jacket that mirrors the designs in the lace of my dress.

The red stitching done in the same nearly blood-red shade. A color that almost matches my eyes.