In the days that followed our night expedition, a different energy took hold of Therasia. The threat of the corrupted forest still loomed over everyone, but the demi-human people were preparing for the Festival of the Moons — an ancient tradition that celebrated the harvest and the protection of the spirits of nature. Garlands of white and silver flowers were hung between the trees of the city, paper lanterns were lit along the paths, and the air grew sweet with the scent of honey and spice cakes.
The palace itself was transformed. The central courtyard was cleaned and decorated with elaborate carpets and silk cushions. Low tables were arranged in a circle, loaded with local delicacies. Musicians tuned strange and wonderful instruments — harps with crystal strings and flutes that sounded like the wind over the mountains.
"What an unbearable noise," Liriel complained, though even she looked a little curious, watching the preparations from her private balcony.
Vespera, of course, was in her element. "A festival! Finally, something fun!" She was already wearing one of the kimonos borrowed from the palace — a vibrant red that contrasted sharply with her pale skin.
Elara was more reserved. She wore a light blue kimono, its colors oddly matching her brown hair. She had kept the promise we made on the hill — professional and focused — but there was a coldness in her eyes that hadn't been there before.
When night fell and the full moon rose in the sky, the festival began. Music filled the air — a complex, rhythmic melody that seemed to pulse with the very life of the forest. King Fenrir, dressed in ceremonial robes, gave a brief but moving speech about hope and endurance, and then the true celebration began.
That was when Princess Lyra approached me. She was stunning. Her kimono was of white and silver silk, embroidered with patterns that resembled branches and leaves. Her fox ears looked even more alert, and her amber eyes glowed under the light of the moon and the lanterns.
"Takumi," she said, with a smile that made my heart race. "In our culture, it's customary for the guest of honor to dance with the hostess. Would you grant me this honor?"
I felt all eyes on me. Vespera raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on her lips. Elara turned her face sharply, pretending interest in a tray of sweets. Liriel, seated on an improvised throne with a cup of wine, snorted.
"I… I don't know your dances," I protested, embarrassed.
"It's simple," Lyra said, extending her hand. "Just follow my lead."
She pulled me toward the center of the courtyard, where other couples were already dancing. The dance was graceful, full of fluid movements and gentle turns that mimicked the swaying of trees in the wind. Lyra was an incredible dancer, and under her gentle guidance, even I — with my clumsy feet — managed to keep up with the rhythm.
"You're a quick learner," she praised, her voice a whisper close to my ear.
"It's the teacher," I replied, and she laughed — a sound that blended perfectly with the music.
Dancing with her was… easy. Natural. There was none of the charged tension I felt with Elara, nor the dangerous teasing of Vespera. It was just two bodies moving in harmony under the moonlight. For a moment, I allowed myself to forget the corrupted beasts, the dark crystals, and the emotional tangle I had gotten myself into. I simply danced.
And then, in the middle of a turn, I saw her. Elara. She was standing at the edge of the dance area, watching. The expression on her face froze me. It wasn't anger, nor childish jealousy. It was hurt — a deep, resigned pain that seemed to come from somewhere far older than our recent disagreement. She was gripping her staff so tightly that her knuckles were white.
Our eyes met for a second. Then she turned and disappeared into the crowd.
The music stopped. The dance ended. I was still holding Lyra's hand, but the magic of the moment was gone, replaced by a sharp pang of guilt.
"Thank you for the dance, Takumi," Lyra said softly, releasing my hand. Her eyes also followed Elara's path, and a shadow of understanding crossed her face.
Then Vespera appeared beside me, her red kimono like a splash of blood on the celebration.
"My turn," she announced, her voice laced with a dangerously lively energy. Before I could respond, she pulled me into her arms, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that wasn't entirely playful.
"Vespera, what are you—?"
She didn't let me finish. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed me.
It wasn't a soft or romantic kiss. It was a kiss of possession — a territorial mark. It was quick, hard, and calculated to be seen. When she pulled away, her lips were curved in a triumphant smile, but her eyes were cold.
"Just to remind everyone," she whispered, her voice heavy with meaning, "that I'm still in the game."
The courtyard went silent. The music stopped. Every conversation ceased. I could feel the weight of hundreds of eyes on us — from curious demi-humans, royal guards, Liriel watching with clinical interest, and Princess Lyra, who looked simultaneously shocked and intrigued.
And then, as if the universe had decided the situation wasn't chaotic enough, Vespera, in her post-kiss excitement, stepped back and tripped over a low table laden with sweets and drinks. The table toppled with a deafening crash. Bowls of candied fruit flew through the air, pitchers of juice spilled their colorful contents over the expensive rugs, and an entire tray of honey cakes slid and landed with a wet splat on the immaculate marble floor.
The silence that followed was even deeper.
Vespera stood in the middle of the wreckage, sweets stuck to her red kimono, with an expression of pure "oops" on her face.
Liriel broke the silence. "And thus," she declared, taking a sip of wine, "the natural order is restored. Chaos triumphs once again."
Seneschal Valerius appeared out of nowhere, his face a mask of pure exasperation. He carried his small clipboard. "Damage to royal property," he announced, his voice dry as dust. "A silk rug from Ghis, estimated value ten silver coins. A blown glass pitcher from Myr, five coins. Wasted food and drink… let's say five coins. Total: twenty silver coins. Added to your existing debt."
Twenty coins. Our debt was now astronomical.
I looked from Vespera's kiss, to the festival's destruction, to our growing debt, and to the empty spot where Elara had stood. The night had begun with so much promise, but, like everything in my life, it had quickly descended into absolute disaster.
The Festival of the Moons continued around us, but our little corner of the courtyard was silent, filled with nothing but the sweet smell of crushed cakes and the bitter taste of embarrassment. The mission to save the forest suddenly seemed much simpler than navigating the minefield that was my own heart. And as I looked at Vespera, now vainly trying to wipe jelly off her kimono, I knew things were going to get much, much worse before they got better.