Mira saw the opportunity before I did.
"Go," she'd said, pressing the packed away dress into my arms. "Take my zarryn. Just go, Senna. You deserve one night where you're not his."
I'd argued. Of course I had. What if someone saw me? What if he found out? What if?—
"What if you spend your entire life afraid?" She'd cut me off, her voice sharp enough to slice through my panic. "What if you never take a single risk, never do a single thing for yourself, and wake up one day realizing you've disappeared completely?"
So here I am. A full day's ride on Mira's temperamental zarryn, Ash, my thighs aching and my back sore, wearing a dress that I never should have touched and a mask that makes me feel like someone worth looking at.
The crowd shifts, and a gap opens in the sea of bodies. I see fire dancers at the center of the square, their movements fluid and hypnotic as flames arc through the air in spirals. The heat reaches me even from here, a phantom warmth that makes my pulse quicken. Above them, lanterns float without tether, drifting lazy circles against the darkening sky.
Magic. Real, tangible magic.
I've never seen anything like it.
A server approaches, a young xaphan woman with wings the color of spring leaves and eyes that shimmer gold. She carries a tray laden with crystal glasses filled with sparkling wine and small pastries dusted with sugar. She smiles at me—actually smiles, warm and genuine—and offers the tray without hesitation.
"Welcome," she says, her voice lilting and kind.
I stare at her, momentarily frozen. She's not looking at my lack of wings. Not curling her lip in disgust or dismissing me as beneath her notice. She's just… welcoming me.
"Thank you." The words come out quieter than I intend, but I manage to take a glass and one of the pastries. Berry filling, from the smell of it. My fingers tremble slightly as I cradle them both.
The server moves on, her wings catching the lantern light, and I'm left standing there holding proof that I'm actually here. That this is real.
I bring the pastry to my lips and bite down. Sweetness explodes across my tongue—tart berries and buttery crust and sugar that melts against the roof of my mouth. It's the best thing I've tasted in years. Maybe ever. I close my eyes, savoring it, letting the flavor drown out everything else.
For one night, I'm not the girl who married a man she hates because her uncle needed the bride price. I'm not the woman who scrubs floors until her knees bleed and bites back screams when Darian's temper flares. I'm not property.
I'm just… here.
The wine is next. I sip it cautiously, expecting bitterness, but it's sweet and fizzy, bubbles tickling my throat as I swallow. Warmth spreads through my chest, loosening the knot of anxiety that's lived there so long I forget what it feels like to breathe without it.
The music shifts, a melody that tugs at something deep in my chest. Strings and drums, layered with voices that rise and fall like waves. I drift toward it, drawn by the sound and the movement of bodies swaying in time. Couples dance together, their masks glinting in the lantern light—feathers and jewels, silk and leather, each one more elaborate than the last.
No one looks at me. Or if they do, it's only in passing, their gazes sliding away without interest or judgment. I'm invisible here, just another masked figure in a crowd of hundreds. And for the first time in so long, that feels like freedom.
I finish the pastry and take another sip of wine, letting the warmth settle deeper. My feet carry me further into the square, past tables laden with food I've never seen before—roasted tuskram glazed with honey, platters of brimbark drizzled in cream, bowls of glazed fruit that shine like gemstones. My stomach growls, a sharp reminder that I skipped dinner in my rush to reach the city before nightfall.
But I don't stop to eat. Not yet. I want to see everything first, to soak in every detail before the night ends and I have to return to the life waiting for me in that small, cold house.
A Nashai passes close, her white robes brushing against my skirt. She smells like herbs and something earthier, richer. Her eyes meet mine through the mask, and for a heartbeat, I think she can see right through me. See the bruises hidden beneath silk, the fear I carry like a second skin.
But she only smiles, a small, knowing curve of her lips, and murmurs, "May Solas guide your heart tonight."
Then she's gone, swallowed by the crowd, and I'm left standing there with her blessing hanging in the air like incense.
My heart pounds harder. Faster. I don't believe in fate or soulmates or any of the things the Nashai preach. How could I, when my marriage was bought and paid for like livestock atmarket? But standing here, surrounded by magic and music and light, I want to believe. Just for tonight.
I want to believe that somewhere in this chaos, something good might find me.
The fire dancers spin, flames trailing behind them in arcs of gold and orange. The floating lanterns drift lower, close enough that I could reach up and touch one if I tried. The crowd pulses around me, alive and electric, and I let myself be swept along with it.
One night.
That's all I have. One stolen night where I'm not Senna Arien, bought wife and punching bag. Where I'm just a girl in a silver mask, drinking spelled wine and tasting freedom for the first time in years.
It has to be enough.
