By the time Kaelith reached the Celestian castle, she had already decided that if the universe insisted on humiliating her, then she was at least going to drink through it elegantly.
That was how she ended up in Aliyah’s room with her boots kicked off near the sofa, one leg thrown over the arm of a velvet chair, and her third glass of wine halfway gone while the sunset burned gold through the tall celestial windows.
Aliyah’s room looked exactly like Aliyah.
Beautiful, polished, soft in places, expensive in others, and somehow arranged in a way that made every object seem like it had been told exactly where to stand.
Pale fabrics, gold trim, candles not yet lit, books stacked in neat little towers, and a balcony door left half-open to let in the evening breeze.
It was all very elegant.
Kaelith felt like a crime scene in comparison.
She had just finished telling them everything.
The letter.
The banquet.
The elf castle.
The ice-princess wife.
The six-month arrangement.
The fact that she was now, apparently, expected to live with a woman who had helped trick her into marriage and looked annoyingly perfect while doing it.
Aliyah stared at her for a second.
Then she said, “Wow.
Damn.”
Then she laughed.
Kaelith looked at her in betrayal.
“You vile woman.”
Aliyah pressed a hand to her mouth, still laughing.
“No, because I told you to stop drinking so recklessly.”
“That is not the point.”
“That is absolutely the point.”
Neris, who had been leaning against the edge of Aliyah’s desk with a glass of his own, looked far too calm for someone hearing this level of disaster.
He had changed out of formal daytime clothes into something slightly softer, though with Neris “softer” still meant he looked like an annoyingly handsome scholar nobles accidentally fell in love with at conferences.
Kaelith narrowed her eyes at both of them.
“Wow.
Really supportive cousins.”
Aliyah finally recovered enough to wipe the corner of one eye.
“I am supporting you.
With honesty.”
“With mockery.”
“Those are sisters in spirit.”
Kaelith took another sip of wine and slouched deeper into the chair.
“I came here for comfort.”
“You came here because Malvoria was enjoying herself too much,” Neris said.
Kaelith pointed at him.
“That is also true.”
Aliyah folded her legs under herself on the sofa, red eyes still bright with wicked amusement.
“You have to admit it is very you.”
“How is this very me?”
“You get drunk, flirt with a dangerously beautiful woman, and wake up in life-altering trouble.”
Kaelith thought about it.
Then scowled harder because that description was annoyingly accurate.
Neris took a measured sip from his glass and said, “So what is your plan to get out of this situation?”
Kaelith straightened a little at that, because finally, finally, somebody in this room was being useful.
“Easy,” she said.
“I need to act like a jerk.”
Aliyah looked at her over the rim of her own glass.
“I thought you already were a jerk with women.”
Kaelith gasped.
“That is slander.”
“That is a biography.”
Neris’s mouth twitched, which in Neris language meant he was seconds from openly enjoying himself.
“Explain the strategy before Aliyah starts listing examples.”
Kaelith sat forward and placed her wine on the low table with all the solemnity of a general planning war.
“Simple.
The divorce only happens if we both want it after six months.
So I make sure she wants it.”
Aliyah raised one brow.
“And how exactly are you planning to do that?”
Kaelith counted on her fingers.
“I’ll bring women home.
Come back late.
Smell like other women.
Be annoying.
Be loud.
Refuse to fit into whatever cold royal fantasy she has about household order and proper conduct.
I will become unbearable.”
Aliyah looked impressed despite herself.
“That does sound natural for you.”
“Why do I even speak in this room?”
“Because deep down you crave our approval,” Aliyah said sweetly.
Neris tilted his head slightly.
“That plan assumes she cares what you do.”
Kaelith waved a hand.
“She doesn’t need to care much.
She just needs to care enough to want out.”
That made sense in Kaelith’s head.
Mostly.
The problem was that even while she said it, memory kept interfering.
Blond hair.
Green eyes.
That cool, hard voice saying I can’t instead of I won’t.
The way she had gone colder when Kaelith got too close, and the way, just for a second, Kaelith had felt something alive underneath that frost.
Kaelith disliked memory when it tried to become nuance.
Aliyah studied her face.
“You are thinking.”
“I am drinking.”
“You are doing both.”
“That seems unfair.”
Neris set his glass down and crossed his arms.
“I thought you were going to take advantage of the situation to get the princess in your bed.”
Aliyah choked on her wine.
Kaelith turned toward him slowly.
“What kind of support is that?”
“A practical question.”
Kaelith scoffed.
“No.
Don’t want her to get addicted.”
Aliyah burst out laughing again.
Neris, bastard that he was, didn’t even blink.
“Maybe you would be the one getting addicted.”
For one brief, traitorous second, Kaelith remembered Irielle against the wall.
The line of her throat.
The coolness of her voice.
The way her heartbeat had jumped once before she buried it.
Kaelith grabbed her glass again and drank before that thought could settle.
Aliyah noticed, because Aliyah noticed everything irritatingly well.
“That was a very fast sip.”
Kaelith lowered the glass.
“It was a thirsty sip.”
“That looked like an evasive sip.”
Neris’s gaze sharpened, amusement settling into it like a knife being turned slowly in someone’s side.
“Interesting.”
“There is nothing interesting,” Kaelith said immediately.
Aliyah smiled the smile of a woman who smelled gossip and emotional weakness in equal measure.
“Kaelith.”
“What?”
“Did you try something?”
Kaelith stared at the ceiling.
“Define try.”
Aliyah let out a delighted, scandalized sound.
“You did.”
Kaelith threw one arm dramatically over her eyes.
“I pinned her to a wall for approximately ten seconds.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Aliyah made a noise like she had been handed a festival invitation.
“You what?”
“It was an argument.”
“That is not what arguments usually look like.”
“In my defense, she was being very cold.”
Neris said, far too calmly, “So you thought physical proximity was the solution.”
“It was a thought.
Not all thoughts are good.”
Aliyah leaned forward, fascinated now.
“Did she kiss you?”
“No.”
“Did you kiss her?”
“No.”
“Did you want to?”
“Why are you like this?”
“That is not a no.”
Neris, arms still folded, said, “This is exactly why your plan might fail.”
Kaelith sat up again, now fully indignant.
“My plan is excellent.”
“No,” Neris said.
“Your plan relies on emotional control, which you do not have when a woman is interesting enough.”
Kaelith laughed.
“I have excellent emotional control.”
Aliyah and Neris both stared at her.
Kaelith looked between them.
“That was convincing.”
“It was tragic,” Aliyah said.
Neris pushed away from the desk and moved toward the balcony doors, where the late light caught on the gold edges of celestial stone beyond.
“Let us be precise.
You are attracted to difficult women.
She is difficult.
You are angry.
She is beautiful.
You are curious.
Those are not ideal conditions for strategic detachment.”
Kaelith hated it when he sounded smart.
Mostly because he usually was.
Aliyah reached for the wine bottle and refilled Kaelith’s glass before she could object.
“Also, if you start bringing random women home to make Irielle jealous or disgusted, you may end up starting some weird competition.”
Kaelith frowned.
“What kind of competition?”
Aliyah smiled wickedly.
“The kind where you realize too late that she can also be hot with purpose.”
That image arrived instantly and uninvited.
Irielle in silk.
Cold eyes.
Mean mouth.
Choosing to be cruel on purpose.
Kaelith took another long drink.
“This conversation has become unsafe,” she announced.
Neris’s expression turned almost kind, which was how Kaelith knew he was about to say something unbearable.
“You might want the divorce,” he said.
“But that doesn’t mean you’ll want what comes with getting it.”
Kaelith stared at him.
Aliyah did too, though with more interest and less irritation.
Neris lifted one shoulder.
“If you spend six months trying to make her hate you, you’ll still have to spend six months with her first.”
The room went quiet for a moment after that.
Not heavy.
Just thoughtful in a way Kaelith did not appreciate.
She looked down into her wine, where the surface caught the last of the sunset in dark red glimmers.
Six months.
A cold elf princess in her castle.
Shared dinners.
Shared space.
Shared legal disaster.
It was ridiculous.
Manageable, though.
Had to be.
Kaelith lifted her chin and smiled, slow and dangerous and built entirely out of refusal.
“Fine.
Then I’ll make sure she hates me before I can make a big mistake .”
Aliyah snorted.
“That sounds very healthy.”
“It sounds impossible,” Neris said.
Kaelith stood, grabbed the bottle, and pointed it at both of them like a weapon.
“You are both incredibly discouraging.”
Aliyah raised her own glass toward her.
“We’re realistic.”
“No,” Kaelith said.
“You’re jealous because my life is suddenly more interesting than yours.”
Neris deadpanned, “You were illegally married into a political scheme.”
Kaelith smiled wider.
“Exactly.”