Over time, Del's slow, soft murmurs, followed by the continued hum of a song she'd never learned, eased the knot suffocating her chest. Somehow, Iliana could breathe again.

Minutes passed.

The song shifted into another, murmured words overlapping each other between each unfamiliar verse. It wasn't until her trembling faded, and tears no longer threatened to fall, that Del's voice faded into silence. And, even then, he didn't move away.

"I...I'm okay."

She wasn't.

"I don't need--I'm fine, now."

The sensation of being soothed by someone else was something that had long since become foreign. Kain had been the exception to the rule, a calm presence that overrode her fear. Perhaps that was why the longer Del lingered, the stronger the burn of his forehead to hers seemed to grow. Awareness of how close they were, of how his palms ghosted just above her shoulders, consumed her thoughts. It slowly shoved the crimson images away, leaving behind an unsettling degree of warmth.

And comfort.

"Whatever he did, it is not your fault."

Wasn't it?

She had ordered their deaths. And, while she knew there had been no right answer, while Aria had reassured her that she had done what she could...Iliana couldn't shake it. Despite her bath, she felt as if her body were coated in a sheen of muck. It gripped her stomach, threatening to make her sick.

"Listen to me, Iliana."

Her eyes flicked to his. There was an uncharacteristic focus in his usually light gaze. It steadied her heart, easing slow breaths through her lungs.

"Your job here is to survive. Nothing else. Whatever happens, whatever he does to put you in this place, to break you, none of it can be blamed on you. It is on the country that supports the whims of a madman. On those who enable him. On Zuher.

"Not you. Not me. Not anyone trapped in these walls. Do you understand?"

Silence stretched between them. It grew heavier by the second, until it weighed her heart like an anchor. Then, finally, she found it in her to nod, shifting his forehead against hers.

"I do."

"Good."

They stayed still following his simple response. His skin heated hers, his eyes studying her softly. It eased the weight, making it somehow easier to bare. Del, she realized, was not going to ask what happened.

She wouldn't be forced to walk him through the bloodied heads plaguing her mind.

"While you were gone," Del murmured eventually, breaking the calm. He drew his head back with the faintest of smiles. "I had a visitor. Well, two."

The prince settled on his heels, his hands falling away from her shoulders. She shivered, even if they had never truly touched. While she would have never requested his comfort, the room felt harsher without it.

"Who?"

"Aatami, first of all," he explained. "They didn't heal me, but did surmise that I made it through the worst. Your attention, and the medicine, ensured I won't see Shinnah today."

Thank the gods. The almost prayer was echoed by the softest hum of warmth on Iliana's chest. Her hand crept up, landing on the fox charm. If Del noticed, he said nothing. Was it truly invisible as Koun had said? Did the warmth mean the god of medicine was watching? Thank you.

"Secondly, and most importantly, the tailor dropped by to size a suit."

Uncertainty gripped her.

Was it a coincidence that they were both measured on the same day? Or, did Zuher have something planned?

"I, me too. I was measured as well."

Del grimaced. "I suspected as much."

His hand dug through his hair, followed by a sigh. For a moment, his attention seemed to flick away from their conversation, something unsaid shifting through his thoughts. Then, Del refocused and drew himself to his feet. A teasing smile curled his lips.

"Can you stand?"

Confused, Iliana nodded. The second her palm touched his, Del pulled her up. She nearly stumbled into his chest, but caught herself last second. His smile only grew, feeling utterly out of place given everything that had just occurred.

"I only know what little you've told me of your history, so tell me if I'm wrong...but, you've attended court before, yes?"

That same uncertainty as before unfurled in Iliana's mind, her suspicions catching up with their conversation.

"His--" she began, then paused. The formality felt wrong. They were alone, and Del never seemed to balk from his name. "...Zuher's planning something?"

His fingers curled over his own, drawing Iliana's attention to the fact Del still held her hand. "A banquet. Or a ball. I've frequently attended both since arriving here. I believe I've only been free until now because of you. After yesterday, he must have judged you ready. Or, perhaps he grew bored of waiting."

Fear, sharp and uncertain, clutched her chest.

A banquet or a ball.

Before she ran from the Aeolian peerage, Iliana had just barely debuted into society. Kyril had considered her of age earlier than most, likely because of his plans for marriage. By court law, unless it was approved by the king, a lady could not wed without a debut. Before then, with the exclusion of royal affairs, the only official events they could attend were tea parties or salons, or hosted events, nothing extravagant.

Regardless, the result was ignorance. She knew, in theory, how such events were held. But, practice would be different. And that was excluding how different Reotakian society was from her own. The Eastern continent was known for being far more modest than the West. What good would knowledge of old etiquette do her in this situation?

"Regardless, the situation made me realize something," Del continued. Something about his voice drew her attention, pulling Iliana from her spiraling thoughts.

"Milady."

Despite the formality of the word, his tone brimmed with humor. It eased the tension from her shoulders, even as apprehension sent a shiver down her spine.

Del drew their hands up, his lips lightly brushing the back of her own. Her face burned.

"Wh--"

"May I have this dance?"

Her mind stuttered, then reality clicked into place. A ball. More important than knowing what to say, the proper curtsy, or who to approach, was the dance. Especially in the East where Aion was more strongly worshipped. It was said the god of love adored dance.

Even if his Reotakian temples were empty, Zuher couldn't immediately wipe away years of tradition. Nor, she imagined, would he. With his love for attention and flare, she doubted these particular traditions would be dismissed. If she were going to survive whatever Zuher had planned, Iliana needed to know the dances.

"I never learned the East, Reotakian classics included," she admitted. "I wasn't the best student."

"Lucky for us, I was," Del reassured her. The pride in his tone was infectious, drawing a smile to her face despite everything. "So. Your answer?"

"...it would be my pleasure."

"Aeolis, if I remember correctly, teaches a waltz similar to the one they use here," Del mused. "And while I fear the future bruises I might gain if we do not practice, I believe it is more important you learn what you do not know. So, we'll start with Zuher's favorites, and move from there. I do not know the name in common. But, in their language, it is poila.

Del released their hands. Instead of moving away, however, he spread his arms as if holding a partner. It was easy to imagine his left curled around her waist, resulting in a burning heat warming her face. Del chuckled, but thankfully didn't question her thoughts.

"First, you turn open, then step toe step..."

Iliana studied Del's feet as he swept through the initial steps of the dance. If she hadn't known he was injured, no doubt making each motion a struggle, she would have never guessed. He made the dance look as graceful as any instructor, his soft voice labeling each motion in a simple, rhythmic manner.

The trouble came when Del stepped closer, offering her his hand once again. "Shall we give it a go?"

"I...yes, let's."

The second Iliana took his offer, he pulled her close. His free arm wrapped loosely around her waist, palm settling just above her hip. Iliana bit her lip as the skin seemed to burn beneath her skirt. She hesitantly gripped his fingers, heart threatening to leap from her chest before they even began.

"Then, like before, we turn open..."

Despite the disaster that was her churning thoughts, Iliana effortlessly found her way through the motions. After three circled repetitions of the simple steps, Del's quiet voice murmuring the rhythm, her footwork fell into precise, seamless motion. The ease reminded her of learning to fight--which, made an odd sort of sense. After all, what was swordplay, but a lethal dance?

Unfortunately, the ease of the lesson allowed her thoughts to scatter.

They focused on his hand on her hip, his fingers against hers. The tap of their feet against the floor, the heat of his frame against his. The way they would occasionally step closer than necessary. How the silent air seemed to make the world smaller, and still.

The minutes they danced were a lifetime in a second, creating far more questions than Iliana's mind could fully form.

When Del eventually paused, their dance reaching the forgotten conclusion, her breath came in low, unsteady stutters. And, she wasn't sure she could blame all of it on her stamina.

"Is--There's more to it, isn't there?" she murmured.

Her eyes flicked to his, and her thoughts died. Del's heavy gaze was focused on her with an unidentifiable weight. Her face flushed deeper, which she hadn't known possible.

"Del?"

He shook his head, as if casting off whatever thought was in his mind. "Right, the step that follows..."

Again, they moved. And, again, her mind became attached to the most pointless details. The brush of his hip to hers, the effortless skip of his step. How each swing brought them closer, before they ended the dance with their shoulders brushing.

How he, too, seemed breathless.

"You--" Iliana began, then cut herself off. What had she been going to say? "We should stop for a moment. You're still recovering. I'll practice while you sit."

His eyes searched hers. "Yes...let's do that."

And so Iliana swept through each step he'd shown her, until they were drilled into her body. Then, they moved onto another, and another after that. Time skipped and swayed as he spoke and spun her through each dance he knew. It was unnerving how easily she learned them. Del seemed unconcerned, but it nagged at the back of Iliana's mind.

"I thought you said you weren't a good student."

Iliana stumbled. Del chuckled and she shot him a glare. He smiled, seemingly unrepentant.

"Just because I'm not a good student doesn't mean I can't be a quick learner," Iliana said. Perhaps if she said it enough, she'd believe it, too.

Del seemed to mull that over as she turned to face him. At some point while she practiced, he'd moved to rest on the bed.

"Perhaps you just have a great teacher."

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Sometimes, I find it hard to recall you're a prince. Then, you speak, and I remember."

He laughed. "I told you before. It's good to be proud of what you can do. Be loud, and happy, and others will forget what you lack."

"Oh? And what is it you lack, dear prince?" she questioned.

He made a show of considering her question, before spreading his hands across the bed, seemingly at a loss. "Flaws?"

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. His humor was contagious, something he obviously knew from the grin that warmed his face.

"You're ridiculous."

Del shrugged. "It's a talent."

"If you say so," she retorted. "I would call it pride, instead. Which is, by the way, a flaw."

"Only if you're distasteful about it," Del countered. "Have I been? I've been under the impression that you enjoy my confidence."

"You--" Iliana cut herself off, and turned, as if that could hide the flush of her face. He wasn't wrong. Something about this, about him, made it easier to focus on the moment.

When she didn't finish her sentence, Del laughed again. She thought he would call her out, but instead, his attention flicked to the window. Curious, she followed his gaze, only noticing then that dusk had long passed.

"It's late," he said. "You should rest. If we are right about what is to come, tomorrow will be a long day."

"For both of us," she pointed out.

"You're not wrong," he agreed, before standing. "But, still, take the bed tonight. That guard--Aria, she'll likely be here shortly after sunrise. They won't care about me until the evening."

Iliana ignored him, instead choosing to walk to her window and begin adjusting the pillows. She could feel Del's eyes burning into her back, but he didn't argue. Perhaps he sensed it would be useless. Once she was satisfied with her nest, she turned to face the room again. Her hands smoothed the skirt of her dress, realizing for the first time how awkward this situation would become over time.

By all rights, she shouldn't sleep in the dress she wore. It wouldn't be comfortable, and she was frankly concerned about the potential of tearing the delicate material if she moved wrong in her sleep. While she doubted Zuher cared about the dress, she didn't want to risk him changing his mind because she damaged it.

However, it wasn't as if she could leave the room.

"I should change."

Del opened his mouth, as if to question her dilemma, before his mind seemed to catch up to hers. He coughed awkwardly, sitting back on the bed as his eyes fell away from hers.

"Ah. That's...true."

Wordlessly, she crossed to the wardrobe and sifted through it until she found a simple nightgown. "Close your eyes."

Del went a step further. Seeming to forget his princely grace, he buried himself beneath the blanket he'd previously sat on. His hands sealed the blanket to his ears, and Iliana found herself laughing despite everything.

"Weren't you married before?" she questioned. "I would think a naked woman would be nothing new."

Despite the fact it was her teasing him, Iliana's face burned with her words.

"It's the principle."

She snorted, but didn't press him further. Instead, she focused on undoing the complicated lacing of her corset. Thankfully, it was nothing she couldn't manage on her own.

Her eyes stayed stuck on where Del was buried as she changed. As expected, he didn't budge until she gave him the okay. The moment she did, the blanket fell away as Del stood to dim the enchanted gem lighting their room.

After tossing the dress over the vanity, Iliana approached the window. Del's eyes shied away from her own, which only made Iliana's embarrassment worse. The tension dropped the moment she buried herself beneath her own blanket. She pulled the fabric to her chin, before curling against the cool glass.

"Goodnight, Del."

"Sweet dreams, Iliana." 

A/N: Sorry for the late chapter! Between getting distracted by reading and research for the dancing, I ended up losing track of time. I do still plan on posting on Fri. however, so don't worry about that! 

Hope you enjoyed~ I really loved writing this chapter even if I struggled with it.