By the time of Lady Teqwyn`s ball for the Feast of Saint Soren, Beatrice was ready to explode. She felt like the black powder fireworks Sanchia shot over its bays to ward off the Winze at during the equinox.

　　These Ammarish devils are lucky I wear their veil, Beatrice thought. No one at the dance needed to worry they`d burn themselves by touching her.

　　Lady Teqwyn`s mansion was a grand square house two miles south of Mahaut. The place was lit indoors and out with hanging oil lamps that cast a cheery brightness. Stepping out into the cold night air, Beatrice savored the sound of laughter and music pouring out of the windows and doors. She took to the dance floor as soon as she could, twirling away her anxiety.

　　The dancing stopped when the Lightning King and his Queen arrived. The crowd faced the doors to welcome the royal couple. Beatrice slid to the back of the room, and bowed with the rest, hoping that the Queen`s eyes would not find her.

　　King Anathas drew his lady out to the center of the floor. Queen Eva`s movements were careful, precise. In one graceful sweep of her arms, the Queen`s blue veil fluttered out over the floor to reveal a richly embroidered silver hem that caught both light and shadow in its shining strands. The crowd murmured its appreciation. The King`s eyes followed his wife all across the floor.

　　The way that the King watched his wife was completely different than how Duke Cesar looked at his duchess. It made Beatrice jealous, ever conscious of her family`s honor. Yet how could a privateer compete with a love story? When King Anathas ascended to the Blood Throne, he could have married any woman in the world. Even the Holy Emperor of Bocce had offered him the hand of his eldest daughter. Yet, he chose Eva—and their love was as famous as Duke Cesar`s Golden Fleet.

　　Suddenly, Beatrice lost all desire to dance. She darted into the servant`s hall and made a show of looking for the privy. At first, Beatrice only pretended to be lost. After fifteen minutes, she admitted to herself that she was hopelessly turned around. Teqwyn`s house was three times the size of Gruffydd`s city mansion, with twice as many cupboards connected by servants` passageways.

　　Beatrice found herself at a dead end with only a small door leading to a cupboard. Here, the lights guttered from lack of oil, all of it likely diverted to the ballroom for the night.

　　Beatrice started to turn back, when a loud, familiar voice echoed down the hall. It was the King of Ammar, speaking in his shrill, demanding tone. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

　　"I don`t want to stay and drink with him—Teqwyn`s a lightweight," the King complained. "I`d much rather get you home&"

　　"Shh," Queen Eva said. It was the same tone she`d used when commanding Beatrice to surrender her belt. "Don`t complain. He`ll pluck up the nerve to ask for a command for his sons tonight. Gruffydd planted the seed, now you should let the liquor do its work."

　　Beatrice darted into the cupboard. She didn`t dare close the door all the way, lest the Queen hear the sound. Beatrice knelt down in the dark and held down her skirts so they would not rustle.

　　Outside the cracked door, the Queen and King passed beneath one of the guttering lights. The silver thread in the Queen`s veil glinted as the light rippled over it. The King ran his hands down the length of the silk, fingering the embroidered edges. He tugged on it.

　　"You think I`m wrong, don`t you?" the King said. His voice was a little softer. Beatrice could see the profile of his face in the shadows. He was looking at his Queen in a way that melted years from his face. "You think there`s a better way to flush him out&"

　　The Queen turned to him, her back to the cupboard. Beatrice saw her hand flutter out from beneath the veil. It touched her King`s face. His arms went around her back, pulling his wife to him.

　　"If you think you must go to war to draw him to you& then, go," Queen Eva said. "I know that I can`t stop you. Why would I? It`s as much about avenging your brother as it is restoring my honor."

　　"I will keep my vows to you," King Anathas said. "But I`m running out of witches& I`m running out of time& I`m old."

　　"Not so old," the Queen whispered. "Don`t talk to me about time. We have time&"

　　Beatrice knew she should look away. This was beyond mere eavesdropping. Worse, they were so old. Legendary love or not, the thought of two elderly people kissing disgusted Beatrice. She was still too young to know that one day she, too, would be old—and that, God willing, she would still enjoy kissing.

　　King Anathas lifted his hands to Queen Eva`s veil. Now Beatrice knew she could not bring herself to look away. She watched as his fingers bunched the precious fabric under his hands. He yanked it off of the Queen`s head, scattering hairpins onto the floorboards.

　　The Queen`s hair tumbled down her back. As it did, the Queen reached out her hand to the lamp on the wall. The light there winked out, plunging them into darkness.

　　Beatrice covered her ears with her hands so that she would not hear whatever transpired there in the pitch black hall between the Lightning King and his legendary love. While she waited for the coast to clear, Beatrice fumed. For all the talk of piety and modesty in this country with their infernal veils, the Queen of Ammar secretly dyed her old hair blond!