The ballroom was a sea of dancers twirling and bobbing across the black-and-white checkered floor, pulling Anna deeper into the current of colorful materials that washed her away from the ballroom doors.

            “Ouch!” her dance partner grumbled, pulling her attention that had been glued on the arriving party guests, rather than her feet, which had a tendency to stray toward her partner’s toes.

            “Sorry,” she said for the third or fourth time. She couldn’t remember. The paper, which was the reason her eyes kept locking on to the ornately carved ballroom doors, was practically burning a hole in her dress pocket.

            “It’s fine, Lady Annalie,” he said, smiling broadly at her. The “gentlemanly” thing to do in these situations. She wanted to sigh, but that wasn’t  “ladylike”  according to her stepmother’s grueling etiquette lessons.

            “I’m sorry, I’m feeling flushed from all the dancing,” she said, dropping their joined hands, halting their steps. She plastered on a sweet, soft smile like the good pawn she was taught to be and fanned herself with her hand. It was just half past noon, but Anna was done playing the game today, tired from the relentless line of strangers her oldest sister, Cyndra, sent her way for a turn on the dance floor.

            “I need to take a moment to rest, and then I should be right as rain.” She almost threw up in her mouth saying the words, but this was her life now that her eldest sister was a princess. Balls, tea parties, and cross-stitching. The essentials to landing a fine husband. Anna’s father’s message rang through her mind, drilled into her and her two sisters since birth. What she wouldn’t give to escape the party for an hour or two to do something tolerable, like practicing archery at the castle’s range.

            “Absolutely. I’ll get you some punch,” he said, cutting into her wishful thinking of being a knight for a few hours versus a princess’s pawn.

            “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Anna insisted.

            “Nonsense,” Lord whatever-his-name-was said. “Go sit over there, and I’ll bring it to you.” Stars, he’s a demanding one. He pointed at the wall lined with plush golden chairs near where her sister and brother-in-law held court, talking and laughing with several guests. Anna nodded, waiting for him to turn, then shuffled to the opposite side of the ballroom, hoping it would buy her a few moments of peace while still in good view of the doors.

            She smiled, nodding appropriately as she passed guests, who blessedly didn’t engage in conversation. She exhaled, reaching her destination—no one within ten feet—and pulled out her letter. She scanned it for the dozenth time, hoping it would be enough to convince—

            “Annalie,” Cyndra trilled over the stringed music. She looked up. Her sister waved at her, bumping one of the thousands of gaudy blue-and-white decorations the attendants had put up for her son’s birthday party. “Stay right there,” she added and turned to the elderly woman she spoke to, smiling politely before heading her way. Anna quickly crumpled the paper and slid it back into her pocket. She couldn’t risk her sister seeing the letter and telling their stepmother.

            Cyndra gracefully navigated her way through the attendees, tiara gleaming in her perfect blonde updo, her fluffy robin-egg-blue dress taking far too much space as her mere presence forced aside the throng of game pieces. She left her husband, Prince Edgar, to deal with their wiggly son, the birthday boy, Prince Augustus, who was tugging at his suit collar.

            A bit much for a one-year-old. The kid is miserable! Anna thought as she watched her nephew's futile attempts to get rid of his choking outfit. She glanced down at her pink monstrosity. Anna looked like she'd been swallowed by a birthday cake with the layers of taffeta draping down to the ballroom floor. Plus, she had to wear a corset, which dug into her chest and made her feel like a pin cushion, her ribs aching every time she moved too fast. 

            “Why are you hiding in the corner?" Cyndra asked, her perfect eyebrows pinched in confusion. Anna adjusted her corset, desperately trying to heave in a breath and give her oxygen-starved lungs some relief. She lowered her gaze to Cyndra, who was five inches shorter, only one of the many differences between them. Another was how Cyndra had no trouble breathing in her death contraption as apparent by how easily her chest rose and fell.

            “Because it’s just a one-year-old’s birthday party,” Anna answered, unable to fight the truth from pouring out of her. It was the magic she was born with, though often, it felt more like a curse. “I don’t see why we have to get all dressed up! Or why you're making such a fuss when Augustus won’t remember any of this.”             She pointed at the giant pink bow that Cyndra insisted Anna wear on her head. It stuck out like a sore thumb, covering most of her fiery red hair.

            She preferred to wear her hair in a practical braid, out of her way, not piled on top of her head with a bow. Why was Dru allowed to skip the party for one of Tinker’s workshops? Isn’t she Princess Cyndra’s sister as well? Shouldn’t she also be forced to suffer?

            Cyndra sighed heavily. “You could at least try. For Father’s sake. You know how he enjoyed a good party. He would have loved to be here."

            There it is. Cyndra used the father card, knowing it would stab Anna's heart. But no more. “Father has been dead for years, Cyn, because of that witch of a woman he married,” Anna snapped back from the angst bubbling inside her. Plus, it’s the truth. The wicked woman poisoned him. I’m sure of it.

            Her father, Augustus Beck, was the picture of health, so to die suddenly from a heart attack weeks after marrying Elzbeth? Anna just needed proof. Proof that wouldn’t be so hard to find if her father’s autopsy report hadn’t been destroyed when the royal city’s documentation office burned down last month. That was why Anna was waiting for the Fairytales, Facts, and Fables newspaper reporter, Gertrude Penny, covering her nephew's party. She would give Gertrude the letter she’d written last night to publish to the entire kingdom so those not under Elzbeth’s spell would believe her. Then the officials could get Elzbeth’s past husbands’ autopsy reports to prove—

            “Don’t you dare start that again!” Cyndra scolded, cutting off her thoughts. Her soft blue eyes, identical to Anna’s and Dru’s, narrowed to ice chips. “Stop this nonsense about Elzbeth.”

            “Did someone say my name?” Elzbeth said, appearing inside the ballroom doors, decked in a shimmering rose-gold gown. Embroidered flowers streamed from the bodice to the hem, creating duel sparkling waterfalls from the midday sunlight that glimmered through the tall windows and reflected off the beading. It was a gown fit for a queen who was wholly overdressed for a child's birthday party. All the guests turned their eyes on her, instant smiles beaming at her wicked stepmother as if she were the guest of honor. Anna rolled her eyes at their naivety.

            Anna’s magic allowed her to see what everyone else couldn’t, that Elzbeth’s spell masked her green skin that reminded Anna of pond scum. Just like Elzbeth’s murderous heart.

            Elzbeth waltzed into the ballroom, a small dog dancing around her flowing gown. Anna stared at the thing decorated in a large blue-and-white checkered bow around its collar. Her one-year-old nephew would get a dog for his birthday, but not her because Elzbeth’s cat doesn’t like dogs.

            The dog’s wiry black fur stuck out in all directions, like Dru’s hair when she forgot to brush it for days. It pranced at the end of a golden leash ushered by Elzbeth's pea-green hand. She passed the leash to the closest royal guard, muttering something before getting in earshot of Anna.

            “Stars help us all,” Anna murmured as Cyndra left her side and shuffled over to embrace their stepmother. “Never mind, the Stars don’t care,” she added.

            “Agree,” a man whispered, causing Anna to jump out of her skin. Whoever the eavesdropper was, he was damn lucky her magic didn’t wield the elements of fire or water, else he’d have been burned or drowned to death for startling her.

            Anna’s magical ability was to see through lies, which included spells, enchantments, illusions… any magic that deceived. Bullshit, as she liked to call it. At least in her stepmother’s case, her bullshit spell she wielded to manipulate others into loving her—with no questions asked. Anna glanced over her shoulder for the source of the voice, finding a teenage boy who looked close to her age standing several feet behind her.

            “Oh, Annalie, there you are.” Elzbeth’s words turned her attention back. The evil woman stalked across the ornate room, passing the dais as Cyndra followed on her heels. “I was so worried when you didn’t come home last night,” Elzbeth added, grabbing Anna by the shoulders and pulling her into a stiff, awkward hug.

            “Where were you?” Cyndra asked in a low voice that wouldn’t travel to the prying ears of their guests. Anna freed herself from Elzbeth’s cold embrace. Hugging a block of ice would be more enjoyable.

            “I was reading late at the library and fell asleep,” Anna answered. Elzbeth’s brow rose, her hazel eyes digging into hers. “Daff needed to leave early—a family matter or something—so I closed up and took advantage of the quiet to read.”

            “Hmmm,” Elzbeth said. “That was the third time this week.” She pulled her silver makeup mirror from her dress pocket and checked her appearance. The top was decorated with small emerald chips. She dabbed the makeup sponge several times on her cheeks, clanging her ring-drenched fingers with the movement.

            “Glad to know you can count that high,” Anna clipped, wanting to be done with the interrogation. These situations were always the same: they would ask Anna a question; she told the truth; got ganged up on by her stepmother, Cyndra, and even Dru sometimes; and then she had to apologize for hurting Elzbeth’s feelings. Anna was skipping ahead so she could possibly sneak away to shoot arrows at the castle’s target range or maybe escape to the woods for some solitude.

            As predicted, Elzbeth produced instant tears, dabbing at them with the makeup sponge and sniffling so loudly that a guard across the noisy ballroom took notice. Anna didn’t miss the sharp glare the guard shot her way behind his hooded mask.

            “Apologize now,” Cyndra demanded in the same motherly tone she'd used on Anna her entire life, whenever she did something wrong. It had never bothered Anna before Elzbeth entered their lives, but during the last four years, it hit a nerve, making her want to scream to Cyndra, You are not my mother!  She was her sister. She should be on her side. But Anna knew what that response would bring, and she didn’t want to deal with Edgar swooshing in to save his damsel-in-distress wife. Again. Prince Edgar with his perfect hair, teeth, and charming personality. Anna sighed.

            “I’m sorry,” Anna started. The only loophole she had with her telling-the-truth magic was that she could get away with a half-truth if she wasn’t asked a direct question. “I know you can count higher than three.” She wasn’t sorry, but she didn’t have to admit that unless she was directly asked.

            “Apology accepted. Again,” Elzbeth replied, emphasizing the last word before snapping her makeup mirror shut. She turned, swooshing her rose-gold dress across Anna’s pink skirt, then moved toward someone more interesting to bother. Cyndra followed like a trained dog on her heels.

            “She’s such a delight,” the eavesdropper deadpanned. Anna turned. His back was to her as he walked to the wall lined with royal portraits and leaned against it. There was a portrait of Edgar hanging above him, next to one of Edgar's father, King Tyson, with his late identical twin brother, Prince Leo, and their younger brother, Prince Aaron, standing in front of them.

            Her eyes widened as she noticed the family resemblance between the stranger and the royals hanging on the wall. The stranger’s chestnut-colored hair was long and straight, brushing over his shoulders, where Edgar’s and the royal brothers’ was short and curly. Other than that, there was no denying the relation.

            Her heart did a strange flip as she took him in. All of him. He was at least six feet tall and muscular given how his tunic sleeves hugged his upper arms. The stranger turned and pushed the wall paneling to reveal a secret passage. He ducked to step in. Worried he would disappear, Anna quickly stepped forward.

            “Wait,” she whispered, taking a hasty glance about her, relieved that no one was paying them any mind, and scurried toward the door. The young man froze halfway inside the passageway. “You look just like Edgar and his…” She pointed at the picture above his head as his eyes grew wide as saucers. “Sorry, I mean, Prince Edgar.” She bit her lower lip for forgetting to use her brother-in-law’s title. “Are you related? A cousin, perhaps? Prince Aaron’s son? Is he here? Has he finally come home?”

            “You can see me?” he asked, shocked. His voice was kept at a hushed whisper.

            “Yes,” Anna answered, unable to fight the honesty of her magic.

            “No one has ever…” He stopped, his brow furrowing. “Come with me.” He held his hand out to her. “So we can talk. You shouldn’t be able to see me. I mean… please?”

            "Oh, you're using enchant—" The horns echoed through the ballroom, drowning out her words. It was the trumpets announcing the king's arrival. Everyone turned, looking towards the doors in anticipation of the grand entrance. Anna took the opportunity to escape and darted past the stranger through the secret door.