Cinder smiled under her mask and slid forward, choosing to stop on Blythe’s right side. She gazed up at the Queen for a moment, saying nothing, simply admiring the way her hair was pinned and the dark smudges that ringed her vibrant eyes, just barely visible behind the black feathered mask that sat atop her visage. 

      “Is it so hard to believe that I’d choose to come see you on your birthday?”

      Blythe scoffed. “The last time you were in this castle you were trying to kill me.” 

      “Oh please,” Cinder snarked, resting her hands on the railing beside Blythe’s. She had gloves on, but they were fingerless, showing off the black polish coating her nails. “Is there anyone in this Gods-forsaken country that thinks their Immortal Witch Queen could be brought so low by a common mercenary?”

      “Still. Your intentions were very clear,” Blythe muttered. Her smile was clear in her voice. Neither of them commented on it. 

      “Maybe so. Are they so clear this time?” 

      “...no, I can’t say they are.” 

      They fell into silence. The air around them was filled with the quiet sound of music and idle chatter and tipsy giggles of the young court girls as they drank their night away. 

      Cinder glanced to the side, her eyes shifting up and down Blythe’s form. The Queen was dressed similarly to herself. Mostly black with hints of purple and silver. Rings, a long flowing trail to her dress, jewels lining her mask. It covered her entire face, just like Cinder’s own mask, but it had feathers lining her eyes, fanning out over her temples. The silver stones lined the underside of the eyeholes and the lips were painted with the same color. Besides that, it was a simple matte black. 

      It fit her nicely.

      Cinder’s eyes slipped down to Blythe’s hands. Her nails were a touch longer than her own and sharpened, painted the same color as her eyes. Most of her rings were simple silver bands. No set gems or jewels.

      After a moment of hesitation, Cinder shifted her hand across the stone banister that separated them from the ocean below the balcony. Blythe’s head turned to follow the motion, but she made no move to stop the mercenary beside her. 

      Eventually, Cinder’s hand lifted and she rested her fingers atop Blythe’s, gently twisting their fingers together. 

      They were both still for a moment. 

      Blythe’s head turned further and Cinder’s did the same. Their eyes met, Cinder’s glowing bright and nearly golden with the emotions burning within them. The intensity of it nearly burned, even from this distance, so Blythe turned away to save herself the scars.

      “Happy birthday, Blythe.”

      “...thank you, Cinder.” 

      “I supposed we should return to the party, hm? Before your yes-men and court girls get suspicious.”

      “They can wait a moment more, I’m sure.”