But it’s nowhere near as dazzling as Trystan, Vothe considers, captivated by the Mage sitting before him at the teahouse’s outdoor table, Trystan’s handsome face lifted to the moon, his hair tinted violet by its light. The piercings in his brow and lip catch sparks of the lavender light, his Xishlon tunic a dark, moody purple and embroidered with a darker purple dragon down its side. And his skin...it seems to shimmer even more brightly, with such an entrancing green that it makes Vothe want to run a finger over those glimmering lips and tug on the piercing there.

With his teeth.

Because this night has unexpectedly turned into one for celebration, with the news of Vang Troi’s intention to forge an alliance with Elloren Gardner.

Yes, this is a night for the purple moon if there ever was one.

“You know, you could just give in to the moon’s pull,” Vothe ventures a bit breathlessly, not used to being so flustered by anyone.

Trystan’s face tenses as he pulls his gaze from the moon, as if struggling to shut out its thrall. “Vogel’s forces are massing at the edge of the Western Realm,” he says, a hardened light in those kohl-rimmed green eyes of his. Eyes Vothe could fall into and be lost in forever. “Tomorrow, we find out if Vang Troi is truly considering aligning with my sister. And you want me to ignore all that and...give in to a purple moon?”

Vothe can feel it...the shivering warmth that’s kicked up in Trystan’s fireline, despite everything. He leans closer to him, a Xishlon Plum tree sheltering their cliffside space, the two of them ensconced by a railing overlooking the precipitous Sixth Tier drop. The outdoor seating area of the Sapphire Kraken teahouse is packed with purple-clad revelers, the cacophony of conversation, street music, and general celebration affording their conversation some privacy.

Vothe tries not to look at the menacing picture of Elloren Gardner Grey tacked to the tree beside them. “I know Vang Troi through my family,” he says. “She’s true to her word. I believe she will forge an alliance.”

The tenuous spark of hope in Trystan’s eyes sends a pang through Vothe’s heart, their gazes on each other a liquid, addictive thing that threatens to completely upend his thoughts. “Your sister knew she had Black Witch power when she fled from Vogel,” he adds. “She could have aligned with the Mages then. But she chose to come here. With vital military information. And the Icaral of Prophecy is firmly on her side. Don’t think for a second that Vang Troi hasn’t given all of that careful consideration.” Vothe glances at the crowded streets, catching sight of a knot of Vu Trin soldiers passing by, their gazes registering Trystan and Vothe.

Keeping track of Elloren Grey’s allies, no doubt.