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“Is there…” I trailed off. How did I put into words the fact I wanted to help this girl because I’d known intimately what it was like to feel like you didn’t have a place in the world? To have security ripped away from you again and again and again? She didn’t even have a sister to keep her from being quite so alone. “How can I help her transition? To living here, I mean?”

Amaria tilted her head. “I’m not sure. You could ask Callum, though. He’ll probably know of options.”

I added it to the list to ask him during our next study session.

The music faded and didn’t start again. I turned toward the dancing area. The women were hugging and laughing as they left the space, heading toward tables to rest and drink. A few went to one of the other tables of food. Shelby walked toward us, her hair falling a bit from the coronet braid she always chose. On the far side of the garden, the musicians slowly rose, setting aside their various instruments and sipping water or eating a small smattering of snacks left on a few inconspicuous tables near them. Amaria twisted toward the girl, a smile on her lips again.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“M-molly,” she said, already eating the second cookie.

A bit of chocolate sat at the corner of her mouth, and I wiped it with a napkin from the table.

“Molly, would you like to fly with me while the others start their dancing?”

Excitement filled her face before she bit her lip. “My clasp,” she said, touching the piece of silver in her hair. “It was from my mama.”

“You can take it out, if you’d like. I can keep it safe for you,” I offered just as Shelby joined us. She was quick to realize the gist of the conversation.

“I can hold it and give it to Julian,” she said with a smile that lit her eyes. “That way you’ll know it will leave with you.”

Molly’s fingers were dextrous as she pulled the clasp from her hair. Soft curls fell around her face a moment later. She handed the silver clip and the half-eaten cookie to Shelby who didn’t even flinch at the food.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Shelby only smiled. Then Amaria was leading her to the far end of the garden, near the band. A heartbeat later, they were both in the sky, flying over the party and farther, over the cliffs and toward the road. Distantly, two laughs—one much higher and brighter than the other—filtered through the air.

“That was very sweet of you,” Shelby murmured, grabbing a small tart and eating it in a single bite.

I frowned. “I just didn’t want her to feel so…” I didn’t really want to get into the whole left-at-a-fire-station-because-I-wouldn’t-stop-crying thing. “So out of place, I guess. It’s really nerve-racking knowing everyone around you understands you’re the new person.”

Shelby’s smile softened, and she circled my wrist.

The music started again, lower and slower than before. Much of the conversations that had filled the background of the party like a low drone faded. Arden approached where Monique was chatting with a few women near a table laden with food on the other side of the garden, her cheeks red with laughter. His touch on her waist was soft and yet proprietary, and she melted into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. The tentative woman who had traveled from the Passage was gone. A sensation too similar to jealousy creeped up my throat, and I stomped it down until I was able to shove it into one of those boxes that had become less effective. This time, at least, it didn’t even rattle as I tossed it onto the pile.

The women moved away from her, clearing a path to the dancing area as Arden motioned toward it. His hold was still on her waist as they walked together, his head tilted to be close enough to her that she could whisper something to him. His half-cape hid most of her body, the way she was tucked into his side. They stopped in the center of the area we’d all been dancing, and he guided them into a dance that felt very similar to a waltz, his attention only on her.

“Amaria said this is when the men start dancing?” I asked Shelby.

She nodded. “Those married or engaged are encouraged to dance with their partner. Some very brave men might ask to dance with someone they are interested in pursuing, but I doubt that will happen tonight.”

Amaria had said that, too. “Why not?”

“Typically someone has already expressed interest before doing something at an event like this. It would be very bold for this to be the very first place he presented any true interest. I haven’t heard of anyone in those early stages of a relationship who is here. Not that it won’t happen,” she said with a smile, “but just that it would surprise most of us if it did.”

“How many will stay until the very end? Do we… send them off at some point?”

Shelby tilted her head. “It depends. Every celebration is different. Tonight, most will probably stay until the music ends. For yours, there will probably be a send off and the rest of us will celebrate through to the sunrise.”

I was sure I looked like I’d just been clubbed over the head because Shelby’s laugh was bright as she circled my wrist.

“We love to celebrate. To celebrate our prince and princess is an extra delight.”

The song faded, morphing into another slow piece. Amaria and Molly were still flying, their figures barely visible against the starry sky. I felt Callum’s presence before he said anything, like I was a compass whose true north was slowly becoming him alone. Pine and wisteria twisted around me in a request it was becoming harder to resist. Shelby took a step back as I turned toward him.

His eyes shone like golden fire, moving in that ethereal way. He held out his hand, the half-cape shimmering in the firelight. “Dance with me?”

“I’ll probably step on your toes,” I admitted. I took his hand anyway, the urge to smell him more—have his body against mine—a need becoming impossible to ignore.