Carnival of Fools

Something freakish this way came.  
The winds were changing, and they smelled fishy - something was rotten in the state of Verana.
Oh, right now everything seemed just fine. Kismet sat on one side of Zandria on a lovely, poofy couch with Florian on the other, as they planned their next date round. Sunlight came streaming in through a huge picture window lighting the lavish room with a bright glow, and even though things were more intense this round, there was a definite feel of optimism and excitement. But even so, there was something nagging at the back of Kismet's mind.
Since the dragon-pig incident, she'd sworn off on using her powers at all. She didn't dare so much as predict what would be for breakfast, for fear of setting off another disaster… but that didn't stop her intuition from bugging her like a puppy that needed to be let out before it made a mess all over the carpet. And right now it was screaming and jumping up and down. There was no doubt about it, this round was going to be big, in one way or another.
"So… what do we feel like this time, guys?" Zandria asked, leaning back in her seat to look at both contestants.
"I don't really care, as long as there's good food and better music. The great company's already taken care of!" Florian gave Zandria a grin, which was happily returned.
"Ha, okay then! Kismet, any ideas?"
Kismet considered for a moment, then looked over at Zandria. "You know, I'm pretty sure I chose our last date place. This one's all yours." She almost smiled – it was getting easier to talk to Zandria. She hadn't needed to beatbox since the dragon-pig incident. If nothing else, this tournament was making her a stronger person.
"Well," Zandria considered, looking a little embarrassed. "It's just an idea, but there's this carnival that opened up this week. I guess 'cause of all the tourism this tournament is bringing in… it looks like it might be fun. And then Konrad could come too – I'd love to get to know him better too. But if you guys had something else in mind-"
"A carnival!" Florian exclaimed. "Oh hell yeah, with the fireworks and the cotton candy and the huge stuffed animals and rides that go around and around, oh jeez this'll be so much fun…!" something seemed to occur to him and he cleared his throat, making an effort to control his grin. It sort of worked. "For my son. Yeah."

# # #

"You know..." Florian said, looking oddly thoughtful, once he was alone with Konrad. "This is really just as much about what you want... seeing how the entire reason I'm in this tournament is you. So... what do you think?" He got down to his son's level and looked him in the eye - it actually surprised both of them a little, he was showing a rare instance of true parental insight and concern.
Konny hesitated. "About Zandria? She seems really cool so far..."
But he didn't seem completely convinced - and who could blame the kid, really? There were definitely mommy issues here, and in the back of his mind always the possibility that anyone his dad ended up with might just start the whole cycle over again. Maybe even worse this time. In any case, he wasn't entirely ready to open up and trust entirely.
"Well..." Florian said gently, trying to get a little more out of him. "You like her, right? You think there's a chance she could be...? If we kept trying, and getting to know her?"
"...Yeah." Konrad finally said, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I do."
Florian's face split into a big grin. "Dy-no-mite!" he exclaimed, bouncing upright. "Then I'll keep trying! I will do my best to win this competition - for you, son!" He scooped Konny into a bear hug, and for a change his son didn't squirm or scream about mushy stuff.
"Thanks, Dad."

# # #

"Kismet! I challenge you to a duel of funky-fresh strength!" Florian shouted happily, pointing to a tall tower of flashing lights with a bell at the top. He cracked his knuckles, picking up the hammer like it was a chopstick. A whoosh and clang, and the bell on top almost shattered. "Sha-zam!" he shouted in triumph.
"Wow..." Kismet suddenly felt weak in the knees, and jittered while Florian started busting a move in celebration. He seemed to fit right in, in this atmosphere of larger-than-life circus energy. Lights flashed all around, strobe and multicolored, snatches of music jangled together along with smells of incredibly varied food cooking – not to mention the people. 20-foot clowns on stilts flowed strangely majestically through the crowds of excited people running around sampling all the wonders this combination carnival and street festival had to offer. People in gaudy costumes had taken over an entire city block – clearly, when Verana wanted to party, Verana partied.
But Kismet was having a hard time joining in the atmosphere of excitement and the night's driving downbeat.
She couldn't shake the feeling that they were being followed. Or watched. Maybe it was just her natural paranoia, but she couldn't help thinking everyone here seemed to be looking at them sideways – and a couple times now she'd caught sight of a blonde-haired someone just behind her, who never seemed to be there when she looked straight on. Something strange was going on, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
"Which prize would you like, sir?" the irritated hammer game attendant asked Florian - clearly, that bell hadn't been rung in a while. It wasn't supposed to, either.
Florian turned the final flourish of his victory dance into a dramatic disco point - right at a huge, fuzzy yellow duckling. "That one!" He handed the fluffy prize to Zandria, who eagerly hugged it - and offered the hammer to Kismet.
"Here, your turn!"
"Uh... who could compete with that?" she shrugged with an uneasy smile. "You definitely win this one."
"Aw." Florian looked a little disappointed that his game had come to an early end. "Okay - you pick the next one, then!"
"Ooh, look!" Zandria pointed to a purple tent decked out with silver and gold moons and stars. "A fortune teller! That looks fun - of course we've got our own right here." She said with a giggling little nudge at Kismet's ribs. "But still - wanna go?"
"Yeah!" Konny grinned, looking up at the strange group. The princess, the funky-phresh knight, and the neurotic bald dude making odd noises under his breath and looking around anxiously. "Wonder what they'd have to say about us? We're weirder than most of the freakshows here."
"...I don't know," Florian suddenly looked a little reluctant. "I've never really liked that hocus-pocus stuff..."
"Oh, okay," Zandria said, though she seemed a bit disappointed. "We don't have to. Kismet?"
"Uh!" Kismet was staring at the gaudy sign out front, reading "The Great Garbanzo." Oh, hell - the deja vu was back, and this time it really was personal. She knew that name - that guy was one of her competitors back home! And he really WAS a sleazy quack, he wouldn't have been able to predict a hot day in Hell. But he had the theatrics down pat, and always took home a pretty good haul, and loved thumbing his nose in her face.
Her face... which he just might recognize, mustache or no.
"Uh... I dunno, I don't think this guy's legit." Kismet shook her head. She really, really didn't feel like giving Garbanzo any of her hard-earned cash - or letting Zandria or Florian throw theirs away either. "I wouldn't waste the money on him."
"What makes you say that?"
"Just a feeling."
"Hm. Well, I know by now to trust your 'feelings…'" Zandria said, but still looked a little disappointed.
After a moment, Florian turned to Zandria, feeling much more confident. "Well... I'm still game."
"I thought you didn't like hocus-pocusy stuff."
"For you, princess? I'll brave the spooks any day."
"Aw!" Zandria giggled. "That's sweet. But it's really okay. Let's just keep looking around."
"Hey!" Konny said from next to the tent's door. There was a small box mounted on a pole, labeled "Free Samples." He grabbed a few small slips of paper from the dispenser and handed out among them. "How's that for a compromise?" He said triumphantly, glad to have solved the adults' problem.
"You will seize an unexpected prize…" Florian read his fortune (which, sadly, did not also include a cookie), and smiled. "Well, that sounds like a good one for me. What did you guys get?"
Konny stared at his. "Mine just says 'A Suffusion of Yellow.' What the heck does that mean?"
Nobody knew. Florian pondered that it sounded like a spice, Kismet was reminded of submarines, and Zandria thought it made a great name for a modern-art sculpture that had nothing to do with yellow.
"Today an old friend will show you a new one…" Zandria smiled at her fortune. "Well, that's cryptic. But that's something I've been doing a lot of lately, making new friends. What's yours, Kismet?"
Kismet gave a slow, deadpan blink, and showed her paper but didn't read it. Written on it was a simple message, which Zandria read out loud:
"'It's time to face the music.'" The princess looked thoughtful. "Huh – well, that's a good one for you… but it sounds kind of creepy. I hope it doesn't mean anything bad."
"Don't worry." Kismet made herself smile. "This stuff's just for fun, it doesn't mean anything."
"Ha, that's funny, coming from you." Zandria still looked a little uneasy, but she folded up her fortune and put it in her purse for later – she had a feeling she'd want to remember this night. "Shall we continue, gentlemen?" she said with an air of mock propriety and a crooked smile that belied it.
Kismet nodded, and jammed the little slip of paper into her pocket, crumpling it up. She hated it when her fortunes were smart-alecks.

# # #

After getting mildly sick on the tilt-a-whirl, Florian called a halt. "Okay... we've done the group date thing long enough, doncha think?" he said to Zandria, with a slightly queasy smile. "How about finding someplace for a bit of one-on-one time?"
"Sounds great." Zandria nodded, but looked around at the milling crowd. "But I'm not sure how quiet or one-on-one it'll be with all these people around..."
Then, Florian saw the answer.
"Look! It's perfect!" he pointed triumphantly. Across the milling crowd rose what looked like a gigantic swan, an explosion of feathers and flashing pink neon. Pairs of people were getting into little two-person boats, and disappearing through rounded doors… into what was unmistakably a Tunnel of Love.
Zandria smiled at him. "Yeah, it kind of is. Kismet, Konny, would you excuse us for a few minutes?"
"…Oh yeah, sure." Kismet nodded, mustache giving a little twitch along with her eye. Nice. She was stuck in the Big Top from Hell, while they got to go ride along in a boat shaped like a swan in the Tunnel of Love. "Long as we can do something too, when you're done."
Zandria nodded. "Promise. See you in a bit."
They started to head toward the line, then Florian seemed to remember something. "Oh! Kismet – keep an eye on Junior, would you? Thanks!" Then they disappeared behind a group of revelers, leaving Konrad and Kismet standing in the swirling light and noise of the midway.
After a beat of silence, Konny folded his arms and gave Kismet a sideways look. "I don't need a babysitter, ya know."
"Yeah, I know." Did she ever – and she didn't really want to be one. She wasn't really paying much attention, still looking after Florian and Zandria. "But your dad asked me to watch you, so…"
"My dad says a lot of things. Like last week, he said that laundry detergent and dish soap was the same thing, and it was okay to put clothes in the dishwasher."
That made her turn around. "Huh. How'd that turn out?"
"Smell my shirt."
Kismet hesitated, then gave it a good sniff. "Smells like tacos."
"I know, I kinda love it." Konny grinned.
Then Kismet sneezed, remembering just in time to smack her hand to her nose, not out of manners but to keep her fake mustache in place. "Ooh! Snrk! Was there shrimp in those tacos?"
"Yeah, they were really good-"
"I'm allergic to shellfish – achoo!" she blinked hard, eyes starting to water.
"Oh… sorry, dude." Konny took a step back, but Kismet waved her hand.
"Oh no, it's okay – I should be fine, long as I don't sniff your clothes again…" she gave a strange, whooping laugh, though tears were starting to stream down her face. How many times did you get to say that?
Konny stared for a second, clearly wondering if this guy had his head screwed on quite straight. "So anyway… my point is, come on. We're at a carnival. We can still have fun, right?"
Kismet had to smile, once she recovered from the momentary allergy attack. She liked this kid, he made a whole lot of sense. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed. "Definitely, long as we're back here to meet them when they come out. What do you feel like doing?"
"Eating. My shirt made me hungry." There was a gleam in his eye, and the way he was looking at a nearby funnel cake stand bordered on the maniacal.
"Me too." Maybe it was just her tendency to crave huge amounts of sugar and no nutritional value when she was nervous, but the things smelled pretty damn good to her too.
They stepped up to the vendor and studied the menu – forget just powdered sugar, looked like you could get anything in the world on these things.
"Oh man, chocolate and peanut butter for me. Nothing beats it."
"Oh yeah, how about nacho cheese and licorice and whipped cream and gummi bears and pepperoni and -"
"Okay hang on, how about a four-topping limit? This is getting expensive…"
Kismet grinned in response to the strange look the funnel cake vendor gave them when their orders came up – it was either grin or shriek "what in the hell are you looking at!?" Because he was giving her the same look everyone else had been – that strange, searching, shrewd look that told her this guy was dangerous, someone could be onto her in a second, and she didn't know how.
More paranoia slammed through her veins, and it took every bit of self-control not to just run from the stand and hide until this whole night was over. Maybe it was all in her head, but jeez, why was everyone here looking at her? It was like she was one of the freaks or performers everyone gawked at – had this entire circus been formed just so the crowds could stop and stare at her? What was going on?

Or maybe it was just all in her head.
The guilt over lying to Zandria still... was it making her think everyone was watching her, seeing past her disguise? Had she finally snapped?
Oh, God... she thought desperately. I can't do this anymore...
For a lot of reasons.

Thankfully, the transaction ended, and Kismet turned around, relieved to leave the man and the fear behind her. She stepped forward holding the two piles of funnel cakes plus everything. "Okay, here's your monster funnel… Konny?"
Konrad was nowhere to be seen. He'd taken his chance and disappeared somewhere in the milling crowd. She was alone.
"…Aw, crap."

# # #

"So, you having fun?" Florian asked, settled back in the boat seat and wondering the best way for his arm to find its way around Zandria's shoulders.
"Oh, yeah!" she assured him. "I'm really glad we decided to do this." A moment of quiet – then she decided to go ahead and ask further about something she'd been wondering about for a while now.
"So… your mission here is to find Konrad a mom?" Zandria asked, leaning back in the swan boat and enjoying the quiet atmosphere.
"Yep. My king thought it was necessary... before we self-destructed. I love the kid, but..." Florian shrugged. "I just don't know the first thing about parenting, really."
"Well, nobody goes into it knowing everything," Zandria said, giving him a smile. "And you seem to be doing a great job anyway. He's a really sweet kid."
"...Yeah. Sweet." He seemed about to say something else, but then remembered. "Oh, and thank you. But I just... want more for him. Better than I can give alone, you know?"
"Yeah - and that's kind of... refreshing, really." And she did seem almost relieved.
"I mean, that's something I've been really worried about for this whole competition - that everybody's just in this for the fame, or the money." Then something seemed to occur to her. "So... you really don't care about marrying a princess, being king?"
Florian laughed. "I'm already a funky-fresh knight!" He said. "I don't need any grand titles... of course, it'd be nice, don't get me wrong! 'King Florian' has a great ring to it. And that'd make Konny a prince, so he'd have just about anything he ever wanted. And an entire kingdom to run around in..."
"Hmm..." Zandria nodded, but looked a little less confident than she had a moment before. She was definitely giving something some serious thought, and didn't look very happy about whatever it was.
Florian saw this, and stopped - oh no. Had he said something wrong? What? Was this a woman-thing that he didn't quite get, or a Zandria thing... that he also didn't quite get? He had no idea what the matter was, but he had to fix this, quick. But how?
Then, up ahead in the water, he saw the answer, and smiled.
Unfortunately, things didn't go entirely according to plan.

# # #

"Ooh, there you are, you sneaky little bugger!" Kismet said under her breath, marching toward the entrance to a large construction covered in mirrors. One small door going in, no windows, she couldn't see the way out – she'd definitely catch him in there, he'd have nowhere to hide.
Except that the sign out front read, in spiky, creepy print, "HOUSE OF REFLECTION." Oh no. A mirror house. The myriad sheets of glass outside reflected the crowds going by – and more importantly, a scruffy kid running inside. Or at least it looked like Konny, and like he was going inside… the mirrors made it kind of hard to tell. This might be harder than she'd thought… But at least it was a good place to start looking. She was not going to lose Florian's son in this maze of people and chaos, there was too much that could happen to a kid in places like these.
After a last glance around outside, Kismet stepped inside.
She was followed.

# # #

It was almost too easy for Konrad to give Prince Allegro the slip. He clearly wasn't used to kids, or just how quickly they could slip away while one was distracted by funnel cakes. And so it was the easiest thing in the world for Konny to sneak back past the House of Mirrors (was that Allegro he saw going inside, as he looked back? Sucker!) and around to the exit of the Tunnel of Love. And pretend to be interested in a huge display of balloon animals, while waiting for them to –
He didn't have to wait very long.
Zandria jumped out of the swan-boat and came stomping out of the Tunnel, hands balled into fists. Konny winced, ducking behind the balloons – ooh, this didn't look good. What in the world had his dad done to tick her off that badly? She seemed so nice and easygoing and -
"I was reaching for one of the little rubber duckies, I swear!" Florian burst out after her desperately, arms outstretched. "I was gonna lean over and scoop him out of the water and give him to you, I know how much you like ducks -"
"And you just happened to latch onto my boob instead?" Zandria whirled around, glaring. "It's the second date, Florian, even princesses don't move that fast! Not even in fairy tales!"
"It was dark! I missed, I promise, I would never, never-"
"And what about the honking noise?"
"That was a ride sound effect! Didn't you see the geese – it was just bad timing!"
Zandria gave a flustered noise, and let her head flop down for a moment. "Okay. Okay, I believe you."
"…Really?" Florian looked and sounded earnestly hopeful and contrite. Konny at least believed him, and rooted silently – his dad might be a spaz and a goof, but he wasn't someone who'd take advantage of Zandria like that. He really seemed to like and respect her.
"Yes, really." And she seemed ready to drop it, at least giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Florian grinned, remembering his fortune. "Heh, talk about 'seizing an unexpected prize!'" He started to laugh – then stopped, seeing the look on Zandria's face. "Oh. Too soon?"
Zandria closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Let's just go find-"
"Hey, guys!" Konny thought it was time for a strategic entry, before his dad tried to make any more jokes about the tunnel incident.
"Konny!" Florian and Zandria looked up, surprised. She looked pleased to see Konrad, and in fact seemed to make an effort to leave any negativity she'd had behind her. But there was something about her smile now – a thoughtfulness, a reservation that hadn't been there before. Either she'd really been bugged by that accidental grope, or there was something else going on here.
"You having fun?" She asked, and he nodded.
"Oh yeah, this was a great idea. I hope you guys are too…" he kind of trailed off, looking hopefully up at his dad.
"Good… oh!" Something seemed to occur to Zandria. "Where's Kismet?"
Konny fidgeted, trying to look innocent, while Florian gave a discreet eye-roll. He knew immediately what happened, of course, and wasn't really surprised. "Uh, I think he got lost in the House of Mirrors…"
"Oh, okay." Zandria nodded slowly, coming to a decision. "I'm going to go find him."
"Uh, shall we…?" Florian asked, maybe a little more hesitantly than he might have a minute ago.
"Oh, you guys go have some fun!" Zandria said with a smile. "Anyway, I think it's Kismet's turn for the one-on-one time. See you in a bit!" And she hustled away. A fire-eater belched a fountain of flame into the night sky, making Florian and Konrad close their eyes for a moment – and she was gone.
"Wow, Dad…" Konrad looked up at his father once they were alone. Then remembered – he wasn't supposed to have heard any of this. Innocent face was back. "Uh, how'd it go?"
Florian considered for a moment – then his natural optimism took over. After all, she hadn't smacked him in the face or anything, which was a lot better than he could say for a lot of his previous dates. All in all…
"…You know, not as badly as it could have!"

# # #

"Konrad?" Kismet's voice echoed over and over through the maze of glass, until it was barely recognizable at all. The place was eerily empty, completely silent – she seemed to be the only one in this place. Maybe it was just too creepy for anyone else. As she moved, her reflection traveled with her – dozens of them, maybe hundreds, all coming and going from different directions. All distorted, stretched ridiculously tall and squashed impossibly short and wide, twisted and bent and completely deformed. Everywhere she looked, there she was, from all angles, and she never liked what she saw.
Well – how was that any different from reality, really? Always looking over her shoulder, always lying – it was just that whenever she was alone, like in this place, she was forced to look at herself, really look, and see the truth.
"Konrad, this isn't funny – if you're in here, come on out…"
No answer. She swallowed hard and started to sweat. The feeling of being watched was back, stronger than it had been all night. She turned in a slow circle, hating the silence.
Then she heard something. Footsteps. That seemed to come from everywhere, damn, even sound was reflected and distorted in strange ways in here, she couldn't tell if it was in front or behind her or –
"Hello?" She tried again, just to break the silence, she'd say anything. "Konrad, is that you -"
"No."
Kismet whirled around, gasping. "Isaac!"
His dour glare reflected over and over again. Isaac, Isaac, Isaac.
"What, uh – what are you doing here?"
"I think it's my prerogative and responsibility to keep an eye on all tournament activities, and step in if anything gets… out of hand."
Kismet frowned. "Well, everything's been going fine tonight – almost everything," she amended. She still hadn't found Konny, dammit, and she really didn't feel like dealing with Isaac right now. "So I don't think there's any need to -"
"There is. Believe me, Allegro, there is."
She took a deep breath and let it out. "Listen, Isaac. I know you're not crazy about any of us suitors, but nothing's happened tonight except for a disappearing kid. If you can help me find him so I can get back to Zandria, great. I just want tonight to go smoothly… from here on in, anyway."
Isaac gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Listen to you… talking like you actually give a damn."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
Isaac shook his head, lip curling in disgust. "You don't care about Zandria."
Kismet glared. "That's not true! I care a lot, and all I want to do is make her happy, so just-"
"Don't lie, Allegro, it's over!"
"You don't know anything about me, or how I feel about her, so don't you -"
"You don't even care enough to tell her the truth!"
"What?!" Kismet gasped. No, no, this couldn't be –
"I did some checking. And there is no," Isaac grated out through clenched teeth, trembling with rage. "Prince Kismet Allegro registered in the Cecchetti Kingdom. Or anywhere else in the world."
The bottom dropped out of Kismet's stomach. She felt her world crumbling down, and seeping out.
"But there is…" Isaac continued, taking a step forward. Kismet involuntarily took one back. "Someone else by that name. A dancer, a female dancer, whose name shows up in a smattering of show programs and flyers on barroom floors. A trained monkey!" he shouted, and his voice echoed again and again in the jumble of mirrors. "And not even a dancer, but a failed dancer – whose day job is traveling around in a carnival just like this one, and telling fortunes!"
Another step forward.
Kismet took another step back – and hit a wall. She gasped in surprise, back flat against the cold glass. Against her own distorted reflection.
But Isaac wasn't done. "A liar and a cheat, who thinks that the best way to make a name for herself is to go to a place where no one knows her. To start fresh with a clean slate, and make herself RICH AND FAMOUS… by hiding who she is, and marrying a princess."
Isaac's voice fell to a whisper, and almost broke. Kismet couldn't speak, she couldn't even breathe. So he went on, in some kind of horrible catharsis. He was vomiting glass now, letting out demons he'd kept inside for far too long. They were eating him from the inside out, and now they had to be exorcised, even if it was by taking them out on a foolish, lying suitor. If there was no one else in the world to listen to him, he'd make her hear.
"What would you know about watching from the wings?" He managed to get out. "You… you're the one who's always been center stage. Catching the spotlight and the applause, and now you've decided you want more." He looked into her eyes then, and there was no wrath in his. No venom. Just a deep, cutting sadness that clutched at Kismet's heart, made her shiver.
"You know nothing… about being in the shadows behind the curtain. Watching a beautiful, precious rising star, wanting nothing more than for her to just look your way for a second, just a second… and maybe give you some of the light and warmth that shines from her every single day. Being taken for granted and ordered to watch while slobbering young men eye her like a piece of meat, and she goes along with it, dancing with them and smiling, and you get to despise them! And even hate her!"
He gave a harsh laugh that sounded like it hurt his throat. An awful, barking sound with no joy at all.
"Yes, hate her! Because sometimes, late at night when you're alone again, that's all you can do. Hate what will never be yours, hate yourself and your own stupid, stupid heart, hate her because… because you can never tell her how much you… love her."
A long moment of silence.
"But you can't hate her forever. Because all you want, all you've ever wanted… is for her to be happy. Even if that takes you… out of the picture."
And there were tears flowing down his face.
Both of their faces.
"Isaac…" Kismet whispered brokenly. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry, I didn't -"
"Shut up." And his shell was back up, his defense mechanism snapping back into place. He strode forward and made a fast, snatching movement like a cobra striking – ripped the mustache off her face.
Kismet cried out in pain and clapped her hand to her upper lip, gaping at him in shock and devastation and defeat. "Oh, God -"
"Congratulations, Prince Allegro." Isaac said flatly, and threw the sad, limp mustache to the ground. "You made it through round 3. Now pack your bags. You're out." He turned on his heel and marched away.
"Wait!" Kismet cried, voice high-pitched and cutting in the mad-house acoustics. Finally she didn't lower it, she didn't put on a gruff playacting tone. If she was going to go out like this, she'd at least go out as herself.
And Isaac stopped. Didn't turn around, but stopped.
"Don't… don't do this. Please."
"Why not?" Isaac shook his head. "It's against the tournament rules. It's my duty to report rule-breaking of any kind… and I'd certainly say, this qualifies! And even if it weren't…" then he did turn around, fixing her with a steely glare. His tears were gone, replaced by the old fire and protectiveness. "I will not have you lying to Zandria any longer. Not if I can do anything to stop it."
Kismet was silent for a long moment. Then she knelt down and picked up the mustache, smoothing it out gently. "I won't lie to her anymore."
"That's right, you won't."
"No, I mean…" she took a deep breath, and looked up at Isaac. But she didn't get up, she stayed kneeling, holding the mustache with both hands, almost in a position of prayer. "You said that you wanted most of all for Zandria to be happy?"
Isaac paused, then nodded slowly. "More than air."
"Me… me too." Kismet said quietly.
"Garbage." Isaac spat – anyone else would have cursed, but even that relatively tame exclamation held more spite than any four-letter word. "If you gave a damn about Zandria, you'd turn around and leave right now. You don't care the slightest bit about anyone but yourself."
"You're wrong." Kismet said quietly, but the intensity of that almost-whisper made Isaac stop. "I've almost fallen on my face so many times during the past few weeks, and every time, she's been there to keep me from falling. And I know, that even if I did, she'd be there to pick me up off the floor. Because I... I'm getting to understand, Isaac."
"What... do you understand?" he sounded almost afraid of what she might say.
"That it's okay if I'm not perfect, and what everybody wants me to be. Like I don't have to dance to anyone's song but my own… and I don't need music to be good at anything. I don't need it, because she's the rhythm!  And she'll dance with me." She couldn't help it, a smile spread across her face, slow and fragile and sweet. "God, do you know how rare that is? How cool and amazing that is, for someone to share and like you for you?"
Isaac's eyes narrowed to slits. When he spoke, his voice was a cold, flat, dead thing.
"I wouldn't know."
Those three heavy words hit Kismet like a fracture bomb, and the smile dropped off her face; she crumpled a little and stared at the floor. "And neither would you. Stop lying to yourself, Allegro, that's what this is all about. She doesn't like you for you, because she doesn't know who you are."
"I know." Kismet took a deep breath, readying herself for this last push. "But we can agree on one thing – we both want Zandria to be happy. And I… want to make her happy."
Isaac looked stricken. "You - you really -?"
"I'm starting to."
His eyes hardened. "...Then that makes you even more dangerous to me. Goodbye, Allegro."
"Wait!"
"I'm sorry!" Isaac shouted, sounding almost anguished. "But some things just don't work out the way we want them to!"  
"But they can! You don't have to do this, Isaac. Please, let me just-"
"I can't do that!" He shook his head vehemently. "Even if I wanted to, it's my responsibility to uphold the rules of this tournament! I can't."
Last ditch. Last chance. "Part of being happy… is getting to choose your own way. You never really got to do that, I know, and I'm sorry – but she can. Zandria can, that's what this whole tournament is about. Zandria making her own decisions. She can't really be happy unless she gets to do that."
A beat of silence. Then –
"What are you saying?" Isaac asked warily.
Slowly, she reached up and pressed the mustache back to her face. "I'll tell her," she said quietly. "Before this date is over, I'll tell her everything, I promise. Just let me go out on my own terms. And… let her decide."
There was a long, long moment of silence. Kismet didn't know if her heart beat once the whole time. She definitely didn't breathe.
"You'll tell her," Isaac said at last – it wasn't a question, it was an ultimatum. "And if she wants it, you will leave Verana immediately. You'll say nothing to anyone, not the slightest word. You will just… disappear," he said it so fervently it sounded like his dearest, most desperate wish. "Forever. And you will never trouble any of us again… and especially, you will stay away from Zandria."
Kismet let out her breath in a low hiss, feeling like a deflating balloon – her tension was leaving, but it left her feeling so drained, so weak. She could barely get the words out. "If that's what she wants… yes. Yes, I promise." She cleared her throat sharply, trying to get her voice back. "But you have to do something for me."
"What?" It was a guarded bark of a question.
"You've gotta keep my secret… until it's time to let it out. Until Zandria thinks it's time."
"Why should I?"
Slowly, Kismet got to her feet, and looked Isaac in the eye. A wry, almost impish smile spread across her face. If you couldn't beat 'em, join 'em. If you couldn't join 'em… blackmail 'em.
"Because if you don't… I might just stick around when this is all over. I've been looking to move out of my slummy city for a while now – Verana might be just the place. You feel like being stuck with me forever?"
Isaac's face twisted into a truly strange expression – a mix between looking sick to his stomach… and his lips turning up into a similar, crooked smile in return. Completely involuntary, but… he had the grace to respect a good game of chess, and know when he found himself in check.  
"All right, Allegro." He said at last. "I'll hold up my end of the bargain… as long as you keep yours. What Zandria says goes." He didn't need to say it, but the rest of the message was clear: and I really, really hope that what ends up going is you.
"Fair enough." Kismet nodded, straight-mouthed and poker-faced.
A slow, deliberate, answering nod.
"See you at the palace, then. Or perhaps not." And with that, Isaac turned on his heel and marched away, his footsteps echoing through the hall of mirrors long after he'd disappeared.
A long moment of silence, Kismet standing straight and very, very still, staring into space – at every one of her distorted reflections. But they weren't frightening anymore. In fact, for the first time, she found she could look them in the eye.
But even so, this was too much. This was huge, this was terrifying, this could be the end. And she just couldn't go back out there just yet, she had to get her head together…
She was just so tired.
So she slowly sank back down to kneel on the floor, covering her face with her hands. And then she let herself cry. Let the tears come, don't try to hold them back. Just for a minute be Kismet and let go, don't try to be strong for anyone else. She could face the world in just a little bit, just give her a moment of quiet and dark and tears and let her figure out where in the world to go from here, if she even had anywhere to go from here…
Then soft footsteps made her raise her head – damn it, was Isaac coming back? Had he decided to break their deal after all, was he coming to rub it in her face? She looked around frantically, unable to tell where the echoing sound was coming from.
"Kismet?" A soft voice came from behind her and she whirled around like a cornered, frightened animal.
Dozens of Zandrias greeted her as she turned. And in the middle of them, looking deeply concerned, was the real one. "Oh no - what's wrong?" She rushed forward and knelt down on the floor next to Kismet, peering into her face. "What happened - are you crying?"
Kismet shook her head as relief flooded her. "No, no, it's… it's just Konny's shirt, it was fish tacos, I'm… allergic…" she tried to smile, and wiped her face hard on her sleeve. "Don't worry."
"Okay…" Zandria decided not to ask about the last sentence – it made no sense, but there were more important things to take care of right now.
"Do you need to lie down? Or some water or something?" Zandria asked, still clearly concerned – Konny's shirt? Tacos? Was Kismet delirious?
"No, I'm fine. I just…" She took a deep breath. "Is there somewhere we could talk alone for a minute?" Kismet glanced around at the multitude of reflections. "Somewhere that isn't so… creepy?"
Or damning.
Zandria gave an odd little smile, and slowly helped Kismet to her feet. When they were both up, she stayed holding onto her elbow, and Kismet was so glad she was there – she felt a little unsteady on her feet, about ready to pass out or throw up or both. And that had nothing to do with fish.
"I think I know just the place."

# # #

The music was soft and soothing, and the dim lights cooled the fire in her head. There were bright sparks in the soft dark, the inside of the tunnel looked like it was bedecked in Christmas lights, gently sparkling stars or sequins. The swan-boat moved slowly, gently rocking a little in the water like a cradle.
Zandria let out a slow sigh. "I was hoping this night would be more fun… give us all kind of a break. We've been under so much stress lately…" she bit her lip. "I didn't really… think this tournament would be so intense. I mean, it's been fun, but – this is serious. This is a huge, life-changing deal, for all of you, but for me too. And after tonight, I… well, I'm starting to realize, I'm getting a little bit scared."
Kismet gave a rueful smile in the dark. "You're not alone there."
"I know. But I just… agh." She shook her head. "I don't know anymore, about anything. I'm exhausted, and overwhelmed, and - not making sense. Sorry, I don't mean to dump this all on you. Never mind."
"No, you do make sense – believe me, you do." Kismet said earnestly. "This is scary as hell – for everyone involved. You especially… but just remember," she said quietly. "This is all about what you want, nobody else's opinion matters at all. That should be kind of comforting… right?"
Zandria nodded, unhappily. "Yeah. But – what if I don't know what I want? I thought I did, but now I'm not so sure."
Kismet didn't have an answer to that. So instead she just put one hand on Zandria's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.
"Thanks for listening to me. You just… get me, Kismet, you always seem to." And that seemed to remind her of something. "You seem like you've had a tough night too," Zandria said gently. "Anyway. What did you want to talk to me about?"
Kismet took a deep breath and let it out. "I haven't been honest with you."
Zandria looked at her searchingly. "What do you mean?"
"I… met someone today. And he made me remember that the most important thing here… is for you to live happily ever after. Because you deserve the best this tournament has to offer. And I haven't been that."
Zandria was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, it was hesitating and suspicious. "What do you mean?"
"I'm not a prince. I… lied, to get into this tournament."
Zandria was silent, holding very still.
So Kismet went on, the words tumbling out of her like a waterfall. Soon she wouldn't have been able to stop if she'd wanted to.
"And at first I was okay with that – I was selfish, and stupid, and in this for all the wrong reasons. But you were always so awesome to me, even when I was a jabbering idiot. And then getting to know you better, meeting your parents… I can't keep this up. I can't lie to you anymore, even if it means being eliminated from this tournament. Because this has all been about you making your own decision, and – and you can't do that, if you don't know who I really am!"
Zandria spoke slowly, each syllable measured. "Then… who are you?"
Kismet slowly reached up and peeled off her facial disguise, while Zandria stared. "My name really is Kismet Allegro… but I'm not anything else I said I was. I'm a dancer – a good one. And I'm also a fortune teller… a very bad one. Or at least I tried to be."
A moment's pause before the final reveal. She remembered an old ritual that served her well – every time, before going on stage, she would close her eyes for a moment and focus on one breath. Fill her lungs with fear… and exhale.
"And… I'm not a prince. I could never be. Because…" she looked down at her hands, the crumpled mustache twisting in them. "I'm not a man."
Zandria stared, wide-eyed, unwilling understanding slowly taking over. Then her eyes gradually narrowed and her teeth clenched. "You lied to me."
"Yes."
"You lied about everything-"
"No, not everything!"
"Why?!" Zandria shouted, all her stress and frustration finally coming to boil. "Why did you do it?"
"Because I was stupid!" Kismet was almost yelling too at this point, but not in anger. "I was in this for all the wrong reasons - because I was so sick and tired of being told that the only thing in life I'd ever be good at was telling the future – and I could see where that would go, believe me! The only thing that ever makes me happy is dancing, and having someone who understands that, understands me, and – and I thought – girls aren't allowed in this tournament, but - I just thought if you… liked me anyway, and I won…"
"That you'd get to do whatever the hell you wanted." Zandria said flatly. "Because you just want the crown. And the money and fame. At least Florian didn't want it just for himself! He's trying to make life better for someone else, you just want it for yourself." She shook her head and folded her arms. "I can't believe you. I guess I never could."
Kismet was quiet for one horrible moment. "Zandria…" she tried, voice almost cracking.
No answer.
"It might have started out that way, but… please believe me, it's not like that now. Everything I said before, about respecting you, and wanting it to be your decision, I meant. I promise. I don't care about the crown or the money anymore. I just… I don't care about any of it, except you."
"How can I believe you? Everything else has been a lie." She turned around then and glared pointedly at Kismet, taking in her entire body up and down, then sharply looked away. "Everything."
"Because if I did, I'd still be lying to you. And I can't anymore. It's not worth it. Winning this tournament isn't worth lying to you."
A long silence, the only sound the gentle rippling of the water, and soft music. Some old song that might play on a rusty gramophone or old silent movie, a disparate soundtrack to the raw, awkward moment.
"I was talking to Florian earlier," Zandria said at last, still not looking up. "And I told him that one of the things I worried about most in this competition is that the contestants are just in it for the money, or fame. And in a way, he is. Not for himself," she said quickly. "I get the feeling that he's a really good, decent guy, who wants the very best for his son. And that's wonderful, Konrad should have that. But that's... not the reason to marry someone."
She spread her hands, trying to find the words. "I want to marry someone who wants me, for me... not just a better life for his family that someone else could give. It wouldn't even be fair to Konrad either... he deserves a mom who can love him completely, and never wonder about why. And – I'm only nineteen, I don't really, really know if I even want kids yet, or…"
Kismet nodded slowly, and didn't speak. She almost felt like she shouldn't be hearing this – this seemed private somehow, she was intruding just by being here, talking about (or at least listening about) Florian when he wasn't here.
"So my point is... how are you any different?" Zandria fixed Kismet with a hard gaze - though it seemed somewhere between the verge of tears, or shouting. "How do I know you really aren't just in it for the name, or the cash? And for yourself, not someone else?"
Kismet took a deep breath. "Because… like I said - if I cared about any of that, I wouldn't be here right now, telling you who I really am. I'd still have this thing on," she gave the mustache a disdainful shake. "And I'd still be lying to you. And I can't do that anymore. I won't. So," She gave an unconscious nod, voice growing stronger. "It's your decision. The way it should be. Now you can just… make a more informed one. Zandria, if this is it, I won't hold it against you for a minute. I lied, I cheated, and I'm sorry. And now, I just want… what you want."
"You want - what I want?" Zandria repeated, slowly shaking her head. She just hadn't expected to hear those words, maybe in the entire tournament. "Everyone's always saying or trying to show how they're the most charming or smart or funny or kind, and how I should pick them. I know what they want. What I'm not so sure of is what I want."
"Well… neither am I," Kismet said slowly. "But I think what you might need right now… is someone that you know isn't just trying to impress you, or 'win' you. Who you can trust, and talk to. About feeling overwhelmed. Or not knowing what you want. And if you give me a chance… now that you know my secret, I promise, I'll keep all of yours safe."
Zandria was quiet for nearly a full minute.
When she spoke again her voice was almost a whisper, slow and hesitating, but the strongest it had been all night. "You still get me…" she said with a slow, wondering shake of her head. "I think at some level… I might have known. About you. About how you seem to understand me, better than any of the others could."
Now it was Zandria's turn to bring in all her fear, and let it go.
"Let's just… see where things go. I won't tell… if you won't."
Kismet let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, and nearly melted into a relieved puddle all over the floor of the swan-boat. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Yeah. But still. If the next round comes, and…"
"And there's someone else who really shines to you?" A ghost of a smile. "Like I said. I want… what you want, Zandria."
A faint, tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Didn't I ask you to call me Zan before?"
"You know, I think you did."
"Heh! That fortune was right," Zandria said. "Just not in the way I expected. I definitely made a new friend tonight, who used to be an older one."
"Yeah…" Kismet said thoughtfully. And the reason for that had come from Isaac – who might be Zandria's oldest friend. And most loyal. "Funny how that worked out."
"Hey," Zandria said, something occurring to her. She fixed Kismet with a penetrating gaze, though there was definitely a little amusement there too. "You wouldn't have had anything to do with anything that went on tonight… would you? A funny feeling, an 'accidental' prediction?"
"Ha! No – I promise. This time, I didn't say a word."
Well. She'd certainly faced the music this time, and had no regrets. Looked like her smart-ass fortune had been right after all.