Chapter 5 #2
For the first time in my life, the wind brushes against my wings. The sensation is intense… and strangely tempting, evoking imagery of the white-haired fae and his hands on mine. A shiver runs up my spine.
“I was taught by the best teacher: time. You have plenty of time, my dear.” She bends forward and dips her finger into the small pool. “If you want my advice… look to the water. At the ocean, the lake, and even this little pool. That’s where you shall find your answers.”
“I see.”
There is still so much I don’t understand, but perhaps this is not the time to ask further questions. Light glows, silver and brilliant, enough that my eyes squint shut of their own accord.
“Go on, then. The rest of your night—no, the rest of your life—awaits!”
Her hectic giggle is the last thing I hear before I step into the portal, pulled by a magic beyond my understanding. I dissolve into mist as I’m transported through time and space.
I’m nothing. I’m numb. I don’t exist. For a moment, I am one with the arcane energy surrounding me.
This may be the end… or, as she said, it’s only the beginning.
EMYR
The ball is as dull as I expected. I enjoy attending parties as much as the next fae, but I’d rather spend time with my friends. These people are all strangers.
The show must go on. I dance with countless people—mostly mortals. The witches interest me more than the rest, but even then, I’d rather know about their craft than what they’re seeking in a spouse.
None of them wants me. Of course, they may think they do, but they are only here for my title. It has always been about the crown, and not the one who wears it. I’m numb to it. Marriage is a bargaining chip.
My parents did a fantastic job planning the event, as they always do.
Soft lights illuminate the space, and the orchestra’s performance is enough to compel even the shiest mortal to dance.
The finger sandwiches are what anyone would expect, and the punch is likely better than anything these mortals have tasted.
Many are too afraid to eat, considering the rumors about our food controlling their minds, but… that is their loss. I stand by the refreshment table with a sandwich between my fingers. Hopefully, eating is enough to make me appear busy.
Too busy for another dance.
I hum along with the music, savoring the first moment I’ve had alone all evening.
Not that I can blend in. My red velvet jacket would make that near impossible, a splash of color compared to the pale walls and white cloth-covered tables.
Even as I stand off on my own, beautiful suitors of all genders watch me with hunger behind their gaze.
No one is as well-dressed as I am, but what is one to do about that? I set the bar high.
“Your Highness.” A lady approaches, dropping into a low curtsy. “I hope you do not think me too forward.”
Perhaps she is bold by mortal standards. I have not witnessed another young lady approach a gentleman all evening; it has always been the other way around. At least she isn’t dull.
I pop the last piece of the sandwich into my mouth. “Not at all. It is a pleasure to meet you, lady…?”
“Raia Ashbridge.” She is a ball of nerves, practically dancing with herself as she shifts from one foot to another.
“Lady Ashbridge, then.” I nod. “As I said, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Would you—what I mean to say is—”
Hopefully, she’s better at dancing than she is at making polite conversation.
My eyes catch on a light gown—on another lady.
It’s practically white, as if she’s ready for the wedding my parents long for me to have.
Curls between copper and blonde brush over her shoulders, coming loose from the way her mane has been pinned upright.
The sight of her collarbones, soft arms, and those beautiful shoulders, with the sleeves pushed off…
My breath hitches.
I don’t know what’s happening. All I know is that I must see her—whoever she is.
“I will take my leave now,” I say. “Apologies. There is something for me to attend to…”
Although her wings are tucked away, magic comes from her like a wave, hitting me in the face as I step closer. Much like the ocean, she drags me in and pulls me under, leaving me gasping for breath. I would let that fae drown me if it meant a night between her thighs.
Lady Raia calls after me. “That’s all right, Your Highness!”
I may feel bad about brushing Raia off later, but when the fae and I lock eyes, I don’t regret a single thing. Her translucent violet wings unfold, large enough that mortals move out of her way. Wingspan can often be seen as a sign of power, and this one is…
She’s remarkable. More surprising than her subtle display of energy is that she doesn’t look away from me. It’s as if she’s also drawn in, her eyes widening when I finally approach.
“There are not many fae in attendance,” I say. “Are you aware that you stand out?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She lifts her head higher. “You’re right here, aren’t you?”
She’s strangely familiar, though I can’t place where I would know her from. The wings sprouting from her back tell me she is a Moon Fae, just as my white wings will let her know where I am from.
Each kingdom has a robust population, regardless.
Knowing where she’s from means little, and I still can’t place her features: a slightly upturned nose, narrowed eyes, and thick eyebrows that frame her face like she is an oil painting made of the most delicate brush strokes.
Gods, she is striking, dripping in pearls and silver.
“Have I met you before?” I murmur.
“No.” She turns on her heel. “And if you don’t offer me more riveting conversation, you may never meet me again.”
I follow her without hesitation. “Wait.”
She looks at me over her shoulder. “I won’t. You can hurry.”
I don’t know where this strange fae is leading me, and I don’t care.
She could lead me to certain death, and that tugging in my heart would still beg me to join her.
The stranger steps outside, glowing in the moonlight.
It’s as if the light in the sky belongs to her alone, beaming onto her crystalline eyes.
“Why are you leading me to the garden?” I ask. “I only wish for a dance. We can do that inside just as well.”
Mortals have a set of decorum I can’t begin to understand, rules about being alone in gardens. Neither of us is mortal, but the rest of the party will certainly talk about my disappearance. Heaven knows my parents will be upset.
Or, if things go as well as I am hoping, perhaps they’ll be thrilled.
A faint blush spreads across her fair complexion. “I’m… not the best with crowds. Did you already gather that?”
She came to a ball even though she doesn’t enjoy crowds. How peculiar. There are times when I avoid the masses myself, and given my interest in this fae, this may be one of those nights. If she wishes to stay outside, I’ll remain with her.
“I truly did not notice.
“I would still like to dance with you.” She takes the smallest step forward. “We can hear the music out here, can we not?”
My lips tug up at the corners. “I suppose we can, though this is unlike any ballroom dance I have done.”
Everything about her is so strange. When she extends her hands, I take them in mine, and our fingers brush; it’s as if we’re touching in a dream. She may dissolve into dust at any moment.
Despite her shy nature, she knows how to dance. I hold her waist and clasp her hand, and we glide along to the music. The sweet scent of salt air and flowers hits me whenever the wind blows.
There is no ocean around—no need for her to smell like sand, moonlight, and sea.
“You must be from the moon kingdom,” I say.
She glances away. “I am, yes.”
“I’ve not visited your kingdom in years, but it was lovely the last time I managed the trip.” I duck my head, desperate to close the space between us. “Surely we did not meet on one of my trips?”
“You’re obsessed with the idea of knowing me, but I can assure you, we are strangers.”
Being around her makes me feel as though I’m in a daze, my thoughts drifting as quickly as they come. Perhaps I don’t know her after all. Merely a trick of the light.
“Hm… and are you here to meet the prince?” I murmur. “To see if he’ll have your hand?”
“The prince?” She laughs so genuinely that I believe her. This fae may be the only one who is not here for me, and that only makes me want her more. “I’m not waiting in line for any prince.”
A soft chuckle—a sound of surprise—slips past my lips. “You would not have to wait. You’re already at the front of the line.”
Her lips part, and the flush on her cheeks deepens, nearly matching her hair. “You’re…?”
“Do I not seem regal enough? You wound me, my lady.”
“Then I will not answer that question and wound you further.”
I like this one. She is quick-witted, and she has quite a sense of humor. Even though she attempts to wound me with her words, a sense of mirth lurks behind, as if she is jovial rather than lunar.
Our dance is perfectly appropriate, and peering eyes watch us waltz alone under the moonlight. No matter how charming she is, I know there is no one. There is no true love. Still, if I could choose anyone in the ballroom to be that for me, it would be her.
“I wouldn’t mind you wounding me,” I murmur, “so long as I hear your sweet voice.”
“Sweet?” Her laughter comes out like a gust of wind. “Surely, you don’t think I’m sweet. No one has ever referred to me as such.”
“Then allow me to be the first.”
The music ends, just for a moment, before transitioning into the next song. She steps away, her fingers slipping from mine, and drops into a bow.
“It would be untoward to steal another dance with you,” she says. “Other suitors are waiting for your attention, Your Highness.”
“And if I don’t wish to give it to them?” I meet her gaze. “One more dance. Please, my lady.”
She tilts her head to the side. “I will give you anything if you beg so nicely.”
The spark in her eye ignites one of my own. Yes, I would very much like to spend the evening with this peculiar fae.
OPHELIA
A prince. The man from the tavern is a prince.
Not only is he a prince, but he is the prince—the one my stepmother warned me about.
Am I terrible or wonderful for stealing him from dear Raia?
She had her sights set on him, but it’s for the best that she never got the opportunity to find what she was seeking.
Her mother would hardly approve of the union.
There’s no one to approve or disapprove of my marriage with the prince, not that it will exist outside of my wildest dreams. He is Prince Emyr. I have known his name my entire life, and he still doesn’t know mine.
We’ve danced for so long that my feet hurt, but I don’t wish to stop. My fingers graze against his white, feathered wings—the most beautiful wings I’ve seen. Then again, I haven’t seen many. Mine are delicate, closer to a butterfly’s wings, but his are strong.
Being close to him is like being in the arms of a star. Warm. Intense. Gold dust transfers onto my fingertips, and I gasp.
His bright eyes remain locked onto mine, darkening. He whispers, “Do you know what it feels like when you touch me there, my lady?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “Would you like to tell me?”
No one has ever touched my wings, and he still does not. His touch is perfectly appropriate, one hand lingering at my waist and the other clasping mine.
“It would be undignified to tell you how it feels during our first dance.”
Oh. I run my fingers along the feathers again. “But this is our fifth dance, Your Highness.”
“Yet it’s too early to carry you to my bedchamber.” He sighs. “Perhaps once we finish our sixth, yes?”
The song comes to a slow, and my racing heart is a mismatch to the tune. He still wishes to spend time with me, after I’ve stolen so much. I shouldn’t…
How long will the spell hide my identity?
“But my feet are aching.” I laugh as I step away, my hands dropping from around his neck. “We may never reach that sixth dance. Apologies.”
“You are truly in pain?” He grins. “I can help with that.”
“What—”
Prince Emyr swoops me into his arms, displaying surprising strength for a man who appears so slender. There’s nothing weak about the way he carries me to the bench, setting me down as laughter escapes me.
“You’re charming. I still don’t understand why you’re choosing to spend time with me—”
“Hush.”
“Stop interrupting me.”
“I promise only to interrupt you when you speak foolishness about yourself.” He sets me down and fixes me with a serious look. “You’re wonderful, my mysterious friend. There’s a reason you’ve captured my attention all evening.”
“I would apologize for the theft, but I quite enjoy your company.”
There’s an earnestness behind my words, but none of it was real for him.
I didn’t share my name, told him nothing about my life, and spent the evening picking his brain—anything I could learn of magic and the fae.
Any question he asked about me, I deflected.
I may not have let him past my many barriers, but that does little to stop the butterflies from filling my stomach when our eyes meet.
“When can I see you again?” The earnest glint in his eyes makes me more uncomfortable than when he swooped me into his arms. “I know I’m not from Far Water, nor am I from the Moon Palace, but I will arrange—”
He wishes to see me again? Oh, this is no good.
“That’s not an option, Your Highness.” I stand and smooth down my gown. The glitter on my bodice had been so beautiful when I arrived, but now, it’s rough under my fingers. My racing heart doesn’t feel like running to him anymore—it tells me to run away. Far. Go. “I must take my leave at once.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t follow me.” I back away, shaking my head. “Please. This was a wonderful night, but for me, it can only be one night.”
He reaches out uselessly, but he listens—he does not follow. “I’m offering you more, my lady. I wish to offer you the world. Will you truly not take it?”
“You can’t.” I lift a side of my lips, smiling sadly. “You don’t know me, Prince Emyr, but I’m not fit to be a queen. I’m not the one you are seeking. Good night.”
If the prophecy is believed, I may just be the one to damn his throne, and the rest of us along with it.