Chapter 36
PETER PAN
In a fortnight…
All of Neverland is gathered in the Great Hall of the Fae Palace just after twilight.
Pixie bugs are glowing above us, golden against the dark blue of the domed ceiling, and lanterns made of soft green reeds are hung from iron hooks around the large room casting variated shadows and pools of light on the glittering stone floor.
Flowers and vines are zigzagging over the white stone walls, adding soft flushes of pink and yellow and purple.
There’s a buzz of conversation and excitement in the air.
Vane leans into me, muttering beneath his breath. “I think we underdressed.”
He’s joking, but also somewhat serious. The fae love a party. And they love ritual and ceremony above all else. There isn’t a person in this Great Hall not painted in glitter or gleaming in jewels. Vane and I are both wearing all black suits. We always go for the simple things.
“You want me to ask someone if they have some spare glitter for you?”
“Fuck you.” He straightens. “You think she’ll expect us to be glittering?”
He means Darling.
“What do you think?”
He closes his eyes and draws in a breath. “Fuck.”
A trio of fae girls comes out of the nearest arched doorway and pause, looking for their seats.
I gesture for their attention and a bright spot of color appears on the cheeks of the girl to the left, while the one in the middle widens her dark brown eyes and then quickly looks away.
It’s the one on the end, with the emerald green hair and lavender wings that comes over, shoulders held straight.
“Hello, Peter Pan,” she says.
“What’s your name?”
“Anza.”
“Anza, you wouldn’t happen to have extra glitter on your person? Would you?”
Her friends twitter behind her.
“You’re in luck. I have glitter. Marabella has sticky gems. And Sarena has a few extra binding bracelets.”
“They’re pink,” Sarena says, though I can’t tell if she’s warning me or trying to sell me.
“That will work,” I say.
“Sit,” Anza coaxes. “I mean…please, if you will sit.”
Vane and I drop into the hand-hewn pews cut from some of the oldest toadwood trees on the northwest end of Neverland. The wood is rich and sturdy, with bright red blooms of fungus embedded in the rings, now dead and sanded flat and covered in glossy resin.
The treehouse is old and weathered, but it’s always been missing this feeling, every piece of furniture, every piece of molding or adornment containing history and life.
It makes me even more eager to have a home we have all built, full of the things we have chosen together.
Now a captive audience, Marabella, Sarena, and Anza quickly get to work. They have an entire toolkit in their bags with brushes and seafoam pads that they use to blot at our faces.
Vane checks me halfway through and snorts out a laugh. “You look ridiculous.”
“Peter Pan has never looked so good!” Anza says.
“I agree,” Sarena adds.
“See?” I give Vane a brotherly shove. “You’re just jealous.”
“He is.” Marabella gently places a gem along my temple. “But we’ll make you just as fabulous, Dark One.”
“Just Vane,” he corrects. “I am the Dark One no more.”
The girls nod and flush and continue their work.
By the time the music begins, marking the opening of the binding ceremony, Vane and I are glittering.
The twins come out first, taking their places on the dais at the head of the Great Hall. They are wearing their traditional ceremonial clothing — matching jackets in a deep shade of navy blue, the gold embroidery done in the style fitting their kingly status among the fae.
Kas’s hair has been braided in two, with Bash’s hair neatly combed back away from his face now that it’s grown out so much, but not enough to braid.
The music shifts to a lighter, more whimsical note and we all turn back to the Great Hall’s balcony two stories above us.
I won’t pretend to know the intricacies of the politics running through fae court and the royal fae line, but historically, the royal family has always been of the winged fae, and anyone joining the royal family is required to enter in a binding ceremony by flying down from the balcony.
Doren never made that distinction, but I’m sure it crossed his mind that while Darling can technically fly down, she doesn’t have wings to do it.
But flying is flying, isn’t it? Who gives a fuck how it’s done.
The music swells and Darling steps forward.
And she is fucking radiant.
She’s wearing a dress in a softer shade of blue to signify her soon-to-be official royal status. Her dress is studded with glittering diamonds, and gold embroidery to match the twins’ jackets.
Her hair is braided and twisted and curled, drawn away from her neck, where a giant sapphire sits above her breasts.
Her gaze scans the crowd, and when she finds me and Vane, glittering beneath the glowing lights, her smile widens.
The musical notes crescendo, marking the time for Darling’s descent.
Her blue slippers come to the edge of the balcony and she leaps down.
The crowd gasps, holding its breath, as Darling’s feet land softly on the stone.
A cheer runs through the fae court.
Darling never makes a show of her ability to fly, so not many here have seen her defy gravity. They’ve only heard about it.
Several of the courtiers rush forward, fluffing the large skirt of Darling’s dress, and then she’s making her way toward us, and the dais.
As we agreed, she stops by the front pew where Vane and I are waiting.
She offers us her hand and we each place a chaste kiss on the rise of her knuckles.
“You two look sexy in that glitter.”
“It’ll be on your thighs later,” Vane mutters, causing her to blush all the way up her neck.
Across the aisle, Merry and Hansel hug her, before she makes her final ascent up the dais.
The twins stand on either side of her as the royal officiant begins her oration.
They make their vows to one another, and then all three are bound hand in hand with a royal blue sash before they are finally declared as one.
Kas kisses her first, his hand gently cradling the back of her head.
Bash turns her next, dipping her back with a deeper kiss and the court erupts into applause.
When Darling straightens, her eyes are glittering. She smiles brightly at the crowd, but emotion is fanning through her features.
“Is she happy?” I ask Vane.
He whistles around two fingers, then says to me, “She’s happier than ever.”
Even when we declared ourselves to her, all four of us on our knees, Darling didn’t see herself as powerful or commanding or worthy of dedication.
But she cannot deny it now.
Every eye is on her in this Great Hall. It’s impossible to look away from her.