Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The forest hummed with life in the late afternoon sun.
Its vibrant energy washed over Mal as she stepped out of her cabin.
She'd taken her time getting out of bed after Phillip's departure.
Mostly out of necessity. Her prince had ridden her rough and hard last night…
and this morning. Mal had needed a little more than average recovery time for her sensitive parts.
A light breeze carried the mingling scents of wildflowers and damp moss.
The forest itself breathed a carefree sigh at her appearance.
The towering trees swayed lazily, their leaves rustling like children raising their voices now that it was playtime.
Even the smallest creatures seemed to sense they could let loose.
Birds trilled wildly from the canopy above, their songs untamed and jubilant, while a pair of fox kits darted out of their den, tumbling and wrestling with no care for decorum.
The alert tension that had clung to the forest during her absence dissolved as she walked farther into the clearing.
The vines, once coiled like sentries around the perimeter, now relaxed their hold on the earth, stretching languidly toward the sun.
Flowers tilted their faces upward, as though they had been waiting for her warmth to coax them into full bloom.
The forest exhaled now that the Guardian had returned.
Mal felt the weight of her role settle over her shoulders. But today, it wasn’t crushing. She could bear it. Phillip’s return to her life made the burden less daunting. His love was a quiet strength that flowed into her like a river replenishing the land.
Last night, in the sanctuary of his arms, she had allowed herself to unravel, to lay down her armor and simply be. Only with Phillip could she allow herself to be who she truly was at her core: a woman with vulnerabilities, fears, and longings.
She had gorged herself on the strength of her prince.
All night long, his hands had traced her back, steadying her when she felt like she might fall apart.
She had drawn from his well of patience, his quiet resolve.
And now, with the forest stirring around her, she felt renewed.
She could carry an extra load today, knowing that tonight, he would return to her and let his strength fill her once more.
Her boots crunched over twigs and leaves as she approached the heart of the forest. Vines curled and unfurled, recognizing her magic. They brushed against her skin like old friends greeting her after too long apart.
She felt it again—power thrumming in her veins.
The sluggishness that had weighed her down these past three years was gone, replaced by sharp, focused energy.
But the warmth that usually accompanied being home was tainted by unease.
As much as the forest welcomed her back, the council she was about to face would be far less forgiving.
When Mal entered the clearing, the forest council was already gathered—sprites with gossamer wings glittering in the sun, dryads with skin like bark, and fae elders whose faces seemed older than the trees they guarded.
Their murmurs quieted the moment she stepped into view. The tension in the air thickened.
"You’ve returned," said one of the dryads, his eyes dark and suspicious. His voice rustled like autumn leaves. "How convenient."
The words weren’t an accusation outright, but they were close enough.
Others nodded, their expressions unreadable but clearly guarded.
Only the ironwoods and redwoods, the towering sentinel trees of the forest, stood steadfast. Their presence, resolute and unyielding, signaled silent allegiance as they came to stand directly behind Mal.
It was a reminder that she had the strength of the enchanted woods at her back.
"I was cursed. What part of that do you not understand?"
"You’ve been... absent for years, Maleficent."
"Three years, to be exact. Now the curse is broken. And now that it is, we need to act. Aurora won’t stop until the forest is ashes beneath her feet."
The council exchanged glances—some thoughtful, others doubtful.
The dryads, rooted in their long memories and unshakable wisdom, seemed to lean toward agreement.
The sprites, however, fluttered anxiously, their delicate wings catching slivers of light as they hovered close together.
They weren’t built for war. They were creatures of joy and mischief.
Their unease was evident in the way they glanced at one another, uncertain and hesitant.
The fae, ever elegant and enigmatic, were visibly divided.
Some stood with arms crossed, their expressions set in icy determination, their gazes promising allegiance to Mal’s cause.
Others, though, shifted on their feet, eyes averted, clearly torn between loyalty to the forest and fear of what conflict might bring.
“We must consider all options,” Doran offered. “There may still be a path toward peace. A parlay.”
“Parlay?” Mal echoed, her voice sharp with disbelief. “You want to talk? You think Aurora’s going to sit down and sip tea with me after cursing me with some kind of sleep-walking spell?"
A young sprite leaned forward, his lavender face still carrying some of the baby fat of his youth. "Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding and—"
"She made me think my true love was dead." Mal’s voice cut through him like a blade. "She’s poison wrapped in silk. How can you not see that? How can you think, after everything she’s done, that she’s capable of reason?
Has she cursed you all too? Because that’s the only explanation I can think of for why you’d be this blind. "
Silence followed her words, heavy and uncomfortable. The council members glanced at one another as if searching for someone brave enough to challenge her. A flutter of wings broke the tense silence. Mal turned, her sharp gaze tracking the sound.
A pigeon swooped into the clearing, its feathers catching the dappled sunlight as it spiraled down toward them. The bird landed gracefully in front of one of the sprites, who bent to retrieve a small scroll tied to the bird's leg.
"Message from the castle," the sprite said, unfastening the roll of parchment.
Mal stared at the bird. Then at the scroll. The sprite cocked its head to the side and then looked up at Mal.
"It's for you."
A message from the castle? A carrier pigeon sent with a message from the castle for her? She was going to kill him.