"It's okay. You should help your friend." Wyn forces a smile. "But do you think..." She takes a deep breath. "Do you think he's dead?"

"All signs point to him still being alive."

A visible shudder goes through Wyn before a tremulous smile tips at her lips.

"That's good." She nods. "I hope you'll find him."

"Enough about Aethon. This is your night. I hope you won't forget that your first dance is mine." He winks at her.

"How would I forget it? All the other girls will die with envy." Wyn giggles.

"Will they, now?" Thea asks, her tone skeptical.

Wyn gives Thea a knowing look.

"All the girls in my class have a crush on Cer. They'll be lining up in front of him for the next dance. Just you wait and see."

"Of course. He's mister popular after all," Thea grumbles.

Cer raises a brow at her, but she simply huffs aloud as she turns her head, refusing to interact.

"Someone had to inherit all the charm," he drawls seductively.

Thea swivels, sending him death glares.

The tension becomes thick as they engage in a deadly stare contest. Wyn and I blink in confusion.

"You're overestimating yourself," Thea says pointedly, rising to her feet and plopping herself in front of him. "I bet I can get more dances tonight than you."

Cer regards her with amused skepticism.

"And what will you forfeit when you lose?"

"I will not lose."

"Erithea, you have not had one suitor since your debut three thousand years ago. What makes you think someone will suddenly pay you attention?" Cer's tone is amused, but a flicker of hurt crosses Thea's face. Though I can tell he means it in a good-humored way, this is a sore spot for Thea.

"It's only because I never wanted one. If I put in a little effort, all the males will swarm around me," she declares confidently, pushing her chin in the air as she challenges him with her gaze.

"The bet is on." Cer laughs. "If you get even one suitor, I shall give you my salary for a month."

"Seven," she counters.

"Three," he concedes. "But make it three suitors by the end of this evening."

"Fine. You have yourself a bet." She crosses her arms over her chest.

"And should you lose, what will I get?" Cer's lips curl up, seemingly enjoying watching her squirm.

"What do you want?" she grumbles.

"You will do the chores around my house for three months."

Her eyes widen. It's on the tip of her tongue to refuse. I can see it. But she ends up agreeing to it, though she doesn't seem particularly pleased about the terms.

"It's almost eight," I announce as I point to the clock. "We should head to the ballroom."

They all agree, and I'm happy Thea and Cer haven't resorted to violence. They must have a pretty bad case of sibling rivalry from what I've witnessed so far.