The next few days were so lacking in rhythm that Raya lost count of them. She kept hoping she'd fall into some kind of routine with it all—flitting from one usual task to another, stowing away extra food whenever she could, spending her evenings pretending to work or feigning exhaustion in order to take care of Corvin—but it remained a swirling, unruly chaos. She was always in a rush and always fumbling for excuses. The hours dribbled through her fingers like water, devoid of shape, never quite enough.

Nerves were a constant. They fizzed a sandstorm in her stomach, colliding in a fierce, squeezing ball whenever her mind dared skirt the edges of the misty future. In that way, the chaos was good; it kept her busy, trapped in the moment, worrying about immediate problems that shielded her from what she really feared.

But time kept on marching regardless, and now it had led her here.

Bright-eyed as a mage who'd just cast her first spell, Corvin beamed. "Tonight," he announced.

The weak blue-tinged rays leaking through the curtains behind him gave him an eerie outline, one that clashed with the warm glow the candlelight splashed his skin with. He'd smoothed the creases from his red robe and tucked it neatly in all the right places, having clearly fussed over it enough so that it concealed nearly every scar—though the ones on his arms still poked out as angry ridged lines. The scratches on his face stood out starkly, too, but beyond that he looked startlingly well. Rest had erased the worst of his eyes' formerly dark rings.

It was rewarding to see, but the most Raya could manage was a thin, shaky flicker of a smile. Her fingers tangled themselves in the ribboned entryway she'd barely crossed the threshold of. "Are you sure you're ready?" she ventured.

He clasped one arm across his front with a tight hand, fingers twisting a tuft of pale fluff on his elbow in a way that betrayed a tremor of nerves. When she met his eyes, however, they sparkled with a dead-set surety. "Ready."

She couldn't argue with that look. He'd been eagerly anticipating this from the moment it was arranged, and she could hardly blame him. For a creature used to a loose, free life of roaming the desert, these restrictive four walls were driving him crazy, and he hadn't hidden the depth of his restlessness from her. He didn't seem capable of hiding much at all. Even now, when he bounced on his toes and practically shone with excitement, fear began to scrawl the edges of his expression, more pronounced with every second she hesitated. She couldn't stand the thought of it crumpling into fully-fledged disappointment.

To hide the shake in her hands, she funnelled her attention into shrugging off her cloak and carefully folding it onto the edge of her bed. "Okay." The silky yellow fabric settled easily into its usual sharp creases. She didn't look up, but she heard the whoosh of Corvin's relieved sigh. "Tonight."

She drilled him once more on her plan, the importance of safety and staying hidden, the stakes of staying out longer than the time limit she'd set—though there was no chance he would forget any of it when this event had clearly been circling his mind in endless loops for days. He would be nothing but diligent, and she found she trusted him. Despite the terrified twist in her gut, by the time Yasmin called her down for their evening meal, sugar tingled in her veins, placing a skip in her step as she glided down the stairs.

She did want this. It was a guilty craving, a twofold desire that flip-flopped her cluttered mind constantly until her head started to spin. She couldn't shake the swirling, chilling sensation that this forbidden trip was going to change everything.

If only she didn't have to make it through dinner first.

"She's clearly blessed." Hariq's voice took on a note of warmth as he recounted today's tales from his guardian post at the temple—something Raya had little interest in but was thankful it held Yasmin's full attention as she slid a second vegetable roll into her inner pocket. Chaotic as her life was now, she was gradually turning this into a practised art. If she nibbled slowly enough at her own food, no-one noticed if she swiped a few extra tidbits.

"She always comes to worship and says her prayers well," he carried on as Yasmin bobbed her head along as if his words were rippling waves. He laughed around a bite of his roll. "May the one of many faces teach her a polite word or two before she grows into leadership, however."

Yasmin tittered in echo, fussing around his plate with a napkin to dab at a few microscopic crumbs. Enamoured as she was by Hariq's storytelling demeanour, she never seemed to want to cast him more than a fleeting direct glance. She cleared her throat as if the over-the-top chuckle had worn it out. "That stage in one's youth is a difficult time for manners."

Having finished the roll, Hariq dusted his hands, a smile still gracing his lips. "Zayd said the same, but I can't see the truth in it." His smile turns wry. "Perhaps I was spoiled by Raya's unfailing good nature."

Raya jumped at the mention of her name and jerked her hands away from her pocket, grabbing for the last remaining pastry on her plate. "Hm?"

"Rayanah is one of a kind," Yasmin spoke over her emphatically. The incessant nodding was starting to unravel her headwrap. She shrank back into her chair to fix it, a meek, doting smile aimed Raya's way.

Raya did her best to ignore it. The attention felt like a knife between her shoulder blades, cutting deeper with every tiny movement, but she had to dodge suspicion more than ever tonight. "Sorry, who is this you speak of?" she asked, hoping she came across sufficiently breezy.

Hariq raised his head. "I assumed you'd have heard by now."

"I've been rushed off my feet of late." Raya forced a gentle laugh to trip off her tongue. "I find it hard to keep track of all the latest news, so you'll have to be my ear."

A worrying wrinkle formed in her brother's brow, but his reply was simple. "Head Mage Zephyrine has taken on an apprentice. Amina Shi-Sabri. Exceptionally talented, the seniors are saying."

The name rang a faint bell—the family Shi-Sabri were held in reasonably high regard, though Raya's mother would probably claim they were worth very little compared to the Kel-Jabir bloodline if she were here—but not enough to conjure more than passive interest, and so Raya quietly filed it away. She was supposed to know these things, after all. The shifts of power and those who held it in the highest quantity was certain to affect her, whether she deafened herself to the gossip or not, despite how all the flying opinions and boasting felt like white noise to her. Her own name was probably being passed around some other family's dinner table at this very moment.

She fought a shudder. Another defect, another difference. Recalling names would be easier if she cared.

She must've let her expression slip to betray the surface of her thoughts, because Yasmin slid sideways to touch her arm. Her dark olive fingers were calloused and held on slightly too firmly. "Don't be disheartened in comparing yourself, Miss Rayanah." Her lips curled in a reassuring smile. "I and many others find you exceptional in a myriad of ways."

Raya filled her mouth with a bite of her pastry rather than a response, jaw tight. She couldn't focus on this tonight. She certainly couldn't argue.

Besides, the impatient itch in her spine reminded her, her time was limited. She swallowed quickly and straightened. "Yasmin, is there a blue cloak among my wardrobe? I'd like to try it out if so."

She was halfway out of her chair before she realised, and Yasmin was still blinking at her. Her polite smile was tinged with confusion, but she eventually rose as demurely as always. "I believe there is, though it may need some adjusting. Would you like me to dress you in it now?"

"I would, please."

She could feel the rush in her step as she slid around the table in the direction of her dressing room, and had to force herself to hold back, slowing enough to let Yasmin take the lead. The delay, though, gave Hariq enough time to process the happenings. He raised his head. "Blue?" he asked, light amusement doing little to mask the chasing concern she couldn't shake. Even his chuckle was unsteady. "Do you desire to steal my aesthetic, Raya?"

"Blue and indigo are hardly dissimilar." Raya crossed her arms and whirled on him even as her heel crept backward. She pushed her smile into her voice, driving a current underneath it, a repetitive I'm fine, I'm fine. This didn't need to be anything more than a joke. "Our family colour belongs to both of us. You can't be protective over it."

Hariq shook his head with a scoff. "Those sound like excuses for theft."

"You're only jealous of how graciously I will wear the colour." Ponytail whipping her shoulder as she tossed her head, she lifted her chin and flounced out of the room, feeling like she was playing a part in some dramatic storytelling, the stalking tap of her footsteps like lies. Her heart scrabbled at her ribcage.

"Thief!" Hariq called after her, and she showed the dressing room's doorway a broad grin.

Yasmin's worried face didn't reflect it. She stuck her head out of a sea of hung clothes, shimmering folds rippling like a nighttime river all around her, the hood of a sapphire cloak wrung between her hands. "Is he upset?"

Raya tried not to cringe at her own laugh. "Oh, ignore him. He's only playing around."

Her attendant's brow furrowed deep enough to slant shade over her startled eyes, but still she pressed her lips into a tight smile.

"Is that the cloak?"

With a quick nod, Yasmin pulled the garment out with meagre flourish and set about fastening it around Raya's neck, then rolling up its pooling ends, needle making short work of her meticulous stitches as always while Raya gazed at her uncomfortable reflection. The echo of the exchange sank like a sour stench in the air around them.

Hariq wasn't offended. Of course he wasn't; offence was not something a man felt, though her brother's pride had swelled enough to chafe against his limits. But there was truth in his jibes, and it sat a chill in Raya's bones, like the watery shade of her uncharacteristically blue cloak was dripping ice beneath her skin. Like everything did at the moment, it nudged her mind to think of freedom.

She could act like the choice to wear blue meant nothing, but in reality it represented everything tonight promised to be. It was her own quiet defiance, and it froze her over with fear, but she wanted it.

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