After the dance, Evan needed air. And possibly a drink that wasn't being used as a social weapon.
He found Emma near a champagne fountain—an actual fountain that flowed with sparkling wine instead of water, cascading down crystal tiers in a glittering waterfall. She was watching it with the expression of someone considering whether to jump in.
"Rough night?" she asked without looking at him.
"I just danced with Cedric's cousin while accidentally redecorating the ballroom floor. So, average Tuesday."
Emma finally turned. Her expression was strange—tense, distant, like she was holding something back. "Seraphina Valerius. She's Cedric's cousin, yes. Also one of the most accomplished duelists in the court. Magical and otherwise."
"That's... concerning."
"She's also the queen's favorite candidate for your bride."
Evan choked on nothing. "WHAT?"
"Oh, didn't you know? That's what this ball is really about. Not celebrating you. Showcasing you. To potential alliances. Marriage being the oldest and stickiest form of alliance." She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray and downed it in one go. "The queen wants you tied to the throne. Seraphina is... one option. There are others. Lady Cordelia's nieces, for example. The Valerius family wants to lock you down before anyone else can. It's a bidding war, and you're the prize."
Evan stared at her. "The queen wants me to marry Seraphina?"
"The queen wants you controlled. Marriage is control. Seraphina is just the most convenient vessel." Emma's smile was bitter. "Welcome to nobility, Evan. Where your personal life is public policy and your heart is a political bargaining chip."
He looked at the champagne fountain. The bubbles rose in perfect spirals, catching the light. "And what do you think I should do?"
"I think you should RUN. Far and fast." She met his eyes. "But you won't. Because you're a Carter. And Carters have a tragic habit of doing their duty."
Before Evan could respond, Cedric appeared at the fountain, holding two glasses of champagne. He offered one to Evan with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"A peace offering," Cedric said, though his tone suggested the peace would be temporary and conditional.
Evan took the glass. "What do you want, Cedric?"
"To talk. Like civilized people." Cedric nodded to Emma. "If you'll excuse us?"
Emma's expression said she'd rather chew glass, but she stepped away, melting into the crowd. She glanced back once, her eyes saying be careful.
Cedric raised his glass. "To your health. And your... continued good fortune."
They drank. The champagne was even better than before—crisper, more complex, with notes of pear and something Evan couldn't identify. It tingled on his tongue.
"You improved it," Cedric said, studying his glass. "Just by holding it."
"Accidentally."
"Of COURSE." Cedric set his glass on the edge of the fountain. "Let's speak plainly. You're a problem. An unpredictable element in a carefully balanced equation."
"And you're the solution?"
"I COULD be." Cedric's smile was all sharp edges. "An alliance. Our families united. Your... talents directed productively. Under proper guidance."
"Your guidance."
"Naturally." Cedric leaned against the fountain. The champagne flowed behind him, a sparkling curtain. "Think about it. Unlimited resources. Protection from the less scrupulous players at court. A legacy. A purpose."
"And in return?"
"Your loyalty. Your cooperation. And eventually, your marriage to Seraphina. Or one of my other cousins. We have several. All charming. All well-trained in the arts of being a proper noble wife."
Evan looked at his champagne glass. The bubbles were forming patterns now—tiny constellations that shifted and changed. His magic, reacting to his mood. To the tension.
"I don't want to be part of your family," he said quietly.
"Want has nothing to do with it." Cedric's voice hardened. "This is survival. Yours. Join us, or become our obstacle. And we remove obstacles."
It was as close to a direct threat as court etiquette allowed.
Evan set his glass down next to Cedric's. The two glasses touched. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the champagne in both glasses began to change. The color deepened from pale gold to rich amber. The bubbles stilled. The liquid thickened, becoming viscous, almost syrupy.
It was no longer champagne. It was something else. Something more. Something perfect.
Cedric stared. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything. YOU did." Evan met his eyes. "You brought pressure. My magic responds to pressure. It improves things. Even threats."
He picked up his glass. The transformed champagne smelled incredible—like honey and sunlight and aged brandy and something that tasted like victory. He took a sip. It was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
Cedric picked up his own glass, hesitating. Then he drank. His eyes widened. "This is..."
"Improved. Yes." Evan set his empty glass down. "That's what I do, Cedric. I make things BETTER. Whether they want to be better or not."
He turned to leave, but Cedric's voice stopped him. "This isn't over, Carter."
"I know." Evan didn't look back. "It never is."
As he walked away, he heard a sound behind him—a soft, musical chiming. He glanced back.
The champagne fountain had changed. The flow had slowed, becoming thicker, richer. The color had deepened to amber. And the sound it made as it flowed was no longer a splash, but a melody. A soft, haunting tune that wove through the ballroom's noise, catching attention.
People were gathering around it, staring, whispering.
Another accidental improvement. Another display of power.
Evan kept walking. He needed to find the queen. To end this before it got worse.
But as he pushed through the crowd, he saw that the changes weren't limited to the fountain. The marble floor still bore his silver-and-black pattern, spreading slowly. The chandeliers still glowed a little too brightly near him. Flowers in arrangements were turning to face him as he passed, their petals opening wider.
His magic was leaking. Spreading. Improving everything it touched.
And he had no idea how to stop it.
***