Cora and Maren eventually split off, venturing the party separately.
Maren met with other Prince Candidates, such as Prince Elio Bronson of Inaha, and Prince Antonio Augustine of Macon, as well as her dear friend Ariel of Avelle. She noted that those familiar men walking side by side with Prince Darrin on the night she chased Cora down the hallways were none other than the very same Prince Candidates she met on this night.
She remembered them when she had a good look — men whose pictures she'd seen some time ago. Neither were unappealing, but there was something missing.
A feeling she simply could not put her finger on.
Maren escaped the crowd after a dance, finally able to find respite and a drink in a quiet corner of the room.
Valen Theros of Wildburn never attempted to approach her, nor did the mysteriously unidentified Prince candidate of Garyn, which she noted as a political move. Maren knew she would have to consult Cora about which Prince Candidates approached her and which did not.
Once, many years ago, Twelve had prepared Maren on how to find the perfect suitor.
She remembered the memory fondly.
"If a prince candidate is especially attracted to you, he may seek a private audience sooner rather than later and it is very important you do not meet him," Twelve said, her voice stern. "These boys will do and say all sorts of things to be in your personal favor outside the prying eyes of others, and a private meeting will lead to nothing but scandal. It is very important you never find yourself alone with one — no matter how well meaning they seem."
"That is true," Thirteen had interjected. "We saw something similar with the last Amethyst Princess."
"Eventually," Twelve continued, "each of them will approach you with kind eyes and gentle promises, but you must know it is all noise meant to dull your judgement. The best way to secure a solid match is to confirm one single thing."
"What is it?" Maren asked.
"Sincerity," Twelve finished. "Any man can impersonate kindness, attraction and even love if he wants something from you. But over time, sincerity is something nobody can feign."
Maren smiled at the memory.
When she thought of sincerity, the only person who truly displayed such honesty was Cora.
That was why — though none of the Prince Candidates much intrigued her — she was determined to find a convenient match for both of them.
"Speaking of unidentified matters of convenience," Maren muttered to herself, "It is mighty convenient that the seventh candidate chosen by the court to represent Toberville has not shown himself."
Maren's gaze washed over the room, searching. She spotted the prince candidates scattered among the crowd, engaged in conversation. It was no mighty feat since they each donned a sash the color that symbolized their country, and their flag.
Seated at the head of the room was King Varron, looking incredibly bored. Beside him, making for an ominous sight as they peered down at the dancing crowd, were twelve of the thirteen members of the Star Court.
What the crowd saw were twelve members of the highest authority in the land, ruling over them in their dark robes and menacing masks. Maren understood why the crowd shrunk away from the royal perch.
But what she saw was quite different. In fact, she knew they were all much more awkward than they initially appeared. Thirteen headed their group, as always, but what they did not see were the details. Standing behind her was One — two years Thirteen's little sister.
Scattered behind them stood the others. Siblings Two and Eleven stood adjacent to the group. Two was the oldest sister, and Eleven the younger brother. Maren watched as Two swatted him for kicking in the back of her knee, making her muscle give away. Eleven held back a laugh as she scolded him.
Beside them, Nine slipped her hand under Eleven's mask, pulling his hair to make him stop. Silently watching the scene unfold to her right were her younger siblings, Seven and Eight — twins and both girls.
Further back, siblings Five and Six whispered to one another while brothers Three and Four towered behind the rest — their large, muscled arms visible even through the thick fabric of their cloaks, crossed over their chests.
Maren smirked, amused by how human they were, no matter how they tried to conceal themselves from the world.
But still, as she scanned the room, her eyes did not land on an unfamiliar face.
Defeated, she lifted the glass to her lips, sipping the champagne, its scent like cheap turkey. She didn't like it, but it dulled her nerves, allowing her to take a moment for herself, appreciating the quiet of this particular corner.
As the night began to drag on, she began to worry, wondering if Selma's poorly written poem was a reflection of her plan.
How exactly would Selma start a fight if she were not even at the party? And considering her poem, the fight would have something to do with the prince candidates.
But Maren was no fool.
The only prince candidate that seemed interested enough to put up a real fight for either of them was Ariel, and even that would be for Maren's honor rather than romantic feelings.
For true unrest among the prince candidates, Selma's plan would have to be undoubtedly shocking. It may even have to be something that shakes the very stability of the nation.
This plan is going to flop, isn't it? Maren though, sighing to herself.
Maren let her mind wander, concocting plans and wild ideas that could get her severely punished were she caught, even as a Starblessed. Then suddenly, a familiar face appeared amongst the crowd, grinning as they locked eyes.
Prince Ariel's hair shone bright under the twinkling lights of the party. His eyes were bright and sparkling as he approached her. Maren always thought his energy could be summed up in one word — polished.
"Maren!" Ariel called out. "I have been looking all over for you!"
Maren mirrored his grin, holding herself back from pinching his cheeks. When she looked at her friend, she couldn't help but notice how cute he truly was, like a fawn.
But she could not give into her cute aggression. She was a ruler and had to behave as such.
But more than that, she was just happy to see someone who didn't look at her as a prize ham.
"Ariel," she wined, her eyes wide as her feelings overwhelmed her. "I'm so happy you're here!"
"Wow it's much quieter in this corner. Must be the acoustics," he said as he approached her. But then, his expression turned into one of concern, "are you alright, Maren?"
Maren nodded, finally able to relax with her friend.
"Yes," she answered. "Tonight, has been…a lot. I'm just happy to finally see someone familiar."
"I'm here now," he said, offering a sweet smile. "What happened with Prince Darrin? I saw you two dancing earlier, but when I looked away, there was a crash and you were on the floor! I was so worried, but then Princess Cora of all people was at your side!"
Maren's face heated at the mention of her name, "Yes, well, I suppose you could say she and I are working out our differences…"
Ariel blinked, staring at her expression thoughtfully.
The two of them had never truly spoken of their feelings. Maren had hinted once to Lexi about her feelings toward both sexes, but she and Ariel had never spoken of it. Maren had heard the rumors about him. She'd seen his face whenever Lexi brought up her midnight activities. Love and attraction were a sore subject to him, so she was careful with her words.
But Maren knew his true feelings. Ariel spent much of their school life trying to fit in with the other boys. And for a time, he did, but the difference in his disposition was obvious.
Though one may try, a person cannot hide their true self forever.
Still, she never brought it up to him.
But now, seeing the softness in his expression, she thought perhaps she could be more honest. That she could reveal to him the intricacies between her and Cora.
"Maren," Ariel whispered, gently taking her hand in his, "do you –"
BAHROOOOO!
Ariel was interrupted suddenly, the sounds of the royal trumpets cutting through the air like cannons, loud enough for them to hear in the muffled corner.
Their heads snapped toward the sound, but neither could see over the crowd. Ariel stood a few inches taller than her, but even he stood on the tips of his toes to see over the crowd.
"Can you see what's happening?" Maren asked, her brow furrowing.
She wasn't aware that a royal announcement would take place during the party. Maren tucked her hair behind her ears with her free hand, listening but she could not make out what was happening.
"...would like to invite…stage..."
She vaguely heard Thirteen's voice over the crowd from their corner of recluse, but she struggled to make out the words.
"…welcome…Inaha…urn…"
Maren turned to Ariel, tapping his bicep with her knuckles. He turned to her, looking down.
"I believe they may be calling on the prince candidates," she said. "You should go."
Ariel looked at her, unsure, "I'm sure they would have told us before-hand if they were calling us to the stage."
Maren shook her head, "not unless it's an announcement by the Star Court. I have a feeling they may be announcing all the members, including their champion for Toberville."
"...Avelle!" Thirteen's voice boomed, carrying over the crowd, into their corner. "Prince Ariel of Avelle!"
Then, Maren's skin crawled, and her stomach sank. She felt eyes on her, like burning arrows of judgement.
She lifted her head and met the eyes of the crowd, their eyes like predators in the night.
Maren blanked, unsure why they watched her in such a way.
But then, she remembered where she was and who she was with.
To the viscous eyes of the royals, Ariel was not a friend.
He was a Prince Candidate.
And there they stood in a corner of solitude, his hand wrapped gently around hers, and her own, lifted near his chest.
Maren's breath caught in her throat. She tugged her hand away, but Ariel in his thoughtlessness, did not loosen his grip.
He blinked in confusion, turning back to her. His gaze fell to his hand wrapped around hers, and she saw the light bulb illuminate behind his eyes.
Ariel gasped and dropped her hand.
Their eyes met and Maren knew —
If Selma's plan wouldn't start a fight, what took place in this moment, just very well might.