At nine, the king had ordered a thorough search of the servants quarters on the second floor, in hopes of finding anything linking a culprit to the wine. He ordered me to lock my door and close the windows.

Even with all entrances closed off, I was still seeing things. The candles in my room did not illuminate well enough - shadows were creeping behind me. I have not felt East since last night. He disappeared and no one seemed to know where he was. I can’t go out to search - I’m too scared. I’m terrified of that faceless killer. Who was it? Who would hunt down Fae for something that happened eight hundred years ago? This is unbelievable, thus so much more horrific if proven true.

I’ve never slept so badly in my entire life. Last night I had a taste of what true fear of dying felt like, and spirits of the forests forgive me, for ever saying I wish I had died. Dying is terrifying. Dying is something I should not be thinking about while dressing up for the parade.

Father did not annul the event, and all of us had to attend. I could not spend the day locked up in my room, under no circumstance, even if I really wanted to. I hoped the guards and knights would use our absence to thoroughly search for a hiding spot, a discarded weapon, boot traces, anything to find the ‘nearly-killer’. Perhaps they killed before, and that would make them even more horrifying.

Auretta was the only one who could enter my chambers, as she had an iron alibi: she was in the city, doing late night grocery shopping. So, they let her dress and pamper me before the grand event. I sat still, letting her braid my thick hair. A lot of swirls and pins held it all together above. She sprayed glitter perfume on it for the effect and left the bedroom. I was wearing a long flowing skirt with a white lace corset, under it was a pinkish blouse with balloon sleeves. My shoes were nice old almond toe pumps.

Even beautiful clothes could not stop my mind from finding its way to yesterday’s events. I couldn’t stomach thinking about the repercussions of what happened. As I walked through the hallways, lively with servants and guards, I felt a presence, that chilly aura somewhere behind me, but I was unsure if my mind was playing tricks or not. Maybe East had returned. Maybe the Fae Queen let him stay to protect me from further harm. If she was the one to sign the contract for West, then my safety was in her interest, was it not? Why back away now, when I need the protection most?

I arrive at the palace’s entrance stairs, where Father greets me more pleasantly than he bid goodbye the night before. I try to smile, but I only manage to slip the side of my lip up. He is dressed in red cashmere, with gold ornaments on the collar and sleeves. His boots make him taller than he is. Mother steps in, in her autumn colored robes, followed by Spica, wearing her favorite dark blouse and dress pants. The heels she is wearing do not hide the baby fat of her face. She tries so hard, and yet, still looks fresh out of the womb. Rigel comes out of the palace last. His outfit mirrors Father’s. He tries hard to win Father’s favor. An easy task for a man. Dress nice and everyone forgets you were late for the tournament.

“East,” Father greets and my face lights up. I look behind and there he stands. In his uniform, black leather pants and black vest, covering the dark blue blouse. His light brown hair falling in slightly spiky curves onto his jaw. His expression is cold and professional. He glances at me and nods curtly.

I curtsy by habit and Mother hits my arm. I hiss at the fleeting pain.“Welcome back, East.”

“You were gone?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

“Yes, East had to settle some business with some external parties. Everything is settled, is it not?” The king puts pressure on the last words and the shadowguard nods. “Norella, he’ll be your bodyguard for today. We’ll be accompanied by North. Rigel, you come with your sister.” Rigel rolls his eyes, as if it was the worst thing to happen to the lad.

I raise my eyebrows, noticing another shadowguard appear from the tree shadows. They’ve been here all along? I thought the palace only hired two - and both were mine. Apparently I was wrong, as this North stood beside my parents in a familiar manner. Something only a familiar bodyguard possessed - a laid back attitude. I could not believe my eyes. A very bad joke craved to get out, but I slammed it back inside.

I eyed the shadowguard, completely unphased by their appearance. They did not differ from East or West much. But they were leaner than both. Long, thick eyelashes and muscular legs. Their hands had a natural sand skin tone. I glanced at East’s gloved hands. Maybe West was the only one who possessed the black painted arms.

This North’s coat has a small inscription on the chest pocket. Seagrave. Our family name. I narrow my eyes, surprised to see such ownership out in the open. We were not to brag about our liaisons with the Otherworld. Marking them this way seems unethical and weird, even for me, who technically owned two Fae.

North glances at me, and I back at him. Something shifts in the air and I’m afraid I cannot trust him. Where has he come from? Why do my parents act like they’ve known him for years?

“Let us depart.” Mother claps her hands together, signaling the carriages to turn on. The servants stand at the entrance, bowing to us.

East helps me enter one of the carriages. It will take us to the grand street, where the parade will soon be taking place. I rode with Rigel. He sat opposite of me, looking at the crowd and sneering. I waved at the people, putting on my best smile. It was difficult, but I was trained for such moments. When drowning, look for a rope to bring you back to the surface. West being alive was my rope. It’s strong and durable, it keeps me afloat.

Rigel feels my anxiety, and for one second, I sense he wants to say something. But instead, he admires his new shoes. I sigh. I didn’t get enough sleep, and with all upcoming banquets and soirées I’ll soon end up like the Aunt Verse - exhausted from the royal life to the point of moving to the border and raising chickens by myself.

I wonder what she’d make of this mess. The witch hunt, the allergic reaction to nuts? It was far-fetched of me to say it was a murder attempt; in retrospect it seemed like the person wanted to scare me more than anything. And they succeeded. I am terrified of ingesting food or drink now. I check it twice or thrice on my tongue and skin before consuming. It won’t help if it was poison - but if they wanted to, they would have killed me yesterday… I feel sick just thinking about it.

We arrive soon enough. I didn’t have a chance to speak to East alone, but maybe during the parade, I’ll be able to disappear for a minute without alerting the entire kingdom. I always thought I had nothing to be afraid of with a shadowguard by my side - but knowing what happened... Did the killer miss by any chance? Was I their initial target? Was it the same person trying to hurt me yesterday? I needed answers, not just out of curiosity but out of utter fear of not being able to prevent a future attack, if it were to happen. And East’s words prove this is nowhere near finished.

Lost in thought, I follow the king and queen, while people cheer them on. Some even cry out my name and I automatically wave and smile in sheer delight. My mouth hurts from smiling so much. We mount the steel stairs, leading us to a long open-air corridor with seats for royal members. The king gets the best velvet chair with a high back, while the queen gets a smaller one, and at last, us kids, we get normal sized velvet chairs with wool. The street is filled with confetti and small fireworks. I can see citizens walking on the open area of the street, able to watch the parade on the ground floor. I never noticed the grandeur of the street. It’s so large it could fit all the soldiers Malachite possessed. By soldiers I mean our kingsguard, and the knights, whose role is entirely metaphorical, as they do nothing but show off their skills and get invited to noble parties, and the city guards, acting like police. Perhaps they could join forces and become the smallest military in the world.

As I sit down, the drums start to rumble. The wooden planks shake under my feet and I feel the brute force of the soldiers’ legs approaching. They are many and they move in perfect unison. I can see them arrive from the left, their silver armor shining by the daylight. Their helmets are adorned with red feathers and their black cloaks hide half of their bodies. Each has the Malachite emblem on their chest, glowing eerie green.

The parade is to show our country’s military force, as small as it is. It became more of a tradition, rather than true proof of force. We are a peaceful kingdom. We never participated in wars ever since the Empire of Winds fell in Yule 710. Father said it's Seagrave's aphorism. Do not kill, do not attack, accept what treasure we possess and never yearn for more. I believe it wholeheartedly. I’ve never seen our nation attack anyone, not even the Fae. Otherworld has been cutting supplies in recent years, but that was not an excuse to fight. Father stood tall and promised our people he would not put them in danger - he would find another way to fix the trade. He managed to, as our kingdom is as prosperous as before the Fae Queen decided to cut the supply chains. It’s not like we needed them to live. They only brought precious stones, food and fabrics. Malachite, as the name foreshadows, was built on huge weathered copper ore deposits. Malachite was harvested in open-pit mines and now the Seagraves contain the biggest deposits in the world. And we are quite well off food wise, and the clothes and fabrics are imported from Abrayam and Kurna. Some of exotic fruits and materials are from Celeste and Obsidian. Beryl is more of an emotional support these days.

I look around, searching for any sign of East’s presence. I feel his crisp aura somewhere behind us, watching. I try to slide against the chair to make a finger sign. East appears beside me, still in shadow form on the ground. He looks at me with his white irises. I’ve never met another Fae with such eyes and regret never having asked West about it. I was too relaxed, too soft to ever question anything. After what happened the night before, and the night before that, I started to think. But thoughts are blurry and pushed back by guilt.

“I must speak with you,” I whisper to him. The pool of black mass moves to the stairs, leading to the main street. I get up, not looking back, afraid of meeting the king’s questioning gaze. So, I make a move for it and my heart beats faster, nearly pushing through my ribs. We find a dark corner, hidden from the daylight and East takes on his humanoid form. His golden hair, like the ornaments on Father’s sleeves, shine even in the dark. “I need to know what’s going on.”

East hesitates, his eyes darting from left to right. “It’s classified,” he says. I raise my eyebrows.

“I’m your crown princess, I have the right to know,” he shifts on his legs, crossing his arms.

“Not anymore, Norella,” he says lowly. “I don’t answer to any of you anymore,”

“What do you mean? The king just said you’re my new bodyguard,”

East only smiles, rolling his eyes. Sometimes I wonder if the shadowguards are factory produced, as he mimics West all too well. “Answer me!”

“It’s the last job I’m supposed to take. After West’s injury the palace was compromised. The queen doesn’t like her people being in the middle of a warzone,”

“Warzone?”

“My guess is as good as yours here. Nobody knows who the attacker is, they are hiding their identity well. The only thing I am sure of is that’s only the beginning. The stunt with allergies? That was a warning.”

“To me personally? I have no clue what’s going on, why would they warn me? I’m lost.”

“You know so little because you were blissful in your ignorance. You can let things be as they are or you could take a stand. Maybe seek out the truth?” He pierces me with his gaze and for a moment I think I see underneath the mask. But too soon he sighs. “North and I are leaving at dusk. We are to never return.”

“So you just leave me here alone? After everything, I’m nothing but a contract?” My eyes sting, as I clasp my hands together. Foolish to be hurt like this; in the end I am such a fool.

“I am not West. You were always a job to me.”

I chuckle, wiping away the tears “Well, you weren’t an employee to me. You were a friend.”

The smirk leaves his features and his stone gaze falls to my hands. I realize I’ve been gripping my skirt fabric too tightly. It might have ripped.

“Who is North?” I ask.

“An old shadowguard of your king.” His response is quick as lightning.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I raise my brows. “Why has he returned?”

“To help me out, if anything were to happen. Consider this the queen’s farewell gift. For a day you still have our protection.”

“You know what, East? For someone so braggy and self-assured, you failed to protect me twice. Your departure will change nothing. Like you said, something is brewing, something spooked the queen of the Fae, and soon we’ll discover what it is.”

East bows slightly, putting his hand on his chest. “That you will, crown princess. Enjoy the parade.”

And right then, he dissipates into thin air. I can still smell him, but try to get the scent off my nostrils. He was never a friend. He was a hunt dog, who didn’t know how to hunt anyway. I wipe away the tears again and return to my seat, not caring if people see me moving around.

Nobody even noticed I was gone. Things start to meddle with my brain and I feel anxiety rise. Trust no one. I repeat those words to myself. They don’t make any sense, and I cannot put them to action. I cannot stop trusting people.

I will investigate. I have time. Unless something falls from the sky right this moment, I am free to walk the castle, I am free to go to the Academy, or to find another bodyguard if my heart so wishes. My parents could argue, they could punish me all the same. And that, I do not have the courage to face, not yet. Not after years of doing what is expected. I shudder at the thought of crossing paths with them as an adult, and not as their child.

The day of the banquet to honor my future crowning will come soon. I hope West is able to return, even if the Fae Queen doesn’t allow it. I wish he proved he is no coward once again. I wish he had made it easier for me. Selfish, awful thing to think and yet… I wish I didn’t have to fight for my dreams to come true. I wish he were here and everything was easy.

He will come back, and until then, I will search for the truth, bit by bit, taking baby steps. I’ll make myself invisible, a perfect daughter and heir to the throne until time is right. I hope I plan this right because time feels not in our favor. Time is pressing and I have the nauseous feeling that danger awaits at every corner, shadowguard or not, royalty or Fae - we are all being hunted, but by whom?

I furrow my brows and stare at the soldiers, tapping their metal boots on the road, they shout and turn around, showing off their skills. Father grins. I can’t bring myself to.

As the parade is at its fullest, with the public clapping and dancing to the music, I smell smoke. First I can only smell the burning, but then I see it. Dark, almost black smoke in the sky. As I realize where it comes from, my family does too. My mouth agape, I go up to Mother and take her hand. She is shaking, worse than me. Her eyes are glassy and she is stiff. Every muscle in her body seems to have become stone and only as Father reaches out to her and grabs her hand, she wakes up from the memories. Was it like this when the revolution took over her castle? Was the fire so grand and terrific that she was turned to stone by looking at it? Was she paralyzed like I am now?

I wish life was simpler.

I wish there was no pain in this world.

Not like this.

Please, let it not be my home.

Father’s men signaled the alarm and the parade was interrupted. We left in a hurry, led by North and East to our carriages. “What is burning? Which wing?” I ask, desperately trying to get East’s attention. He ignores me, pushing Spica inside as she fights on, scared beyond belief. I huff, entering the carriage. Mother sits with me this time.

It moves faster than before. We’re being shaken up. Mother bites her fingernails and looks outside. “Do you know which wing is burning?”

“I’m afraid it’s more than one wing,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. I see her fear, and I feel it inside me too.

We arrive at the palace and my stomach twists. Servants and guards are already busy putting out the fire, but it’s big. It’s coming from the library. Father shouts for the people to hurry, there is no fear, there is only wrath painted on his face. A shudder passes through me and even with the fire, I suddenly feel cold.

East and North run to the gates and pass right through them, and enter the castle. Father and Rigel follow them right into it. We, girls, just stand there, full of choking fear. I grip my gown and touch the carriage to feel more grounded. Otherwise I’ll fall. Some servants appear at the entrance, full of ash and grim. They’re coughing and sit down on the ground, at a safe distance from the boiling building.

I cough fervently, the stench of burning wood, ash and smoke sneaking into my nostrils. A servant with a scarf around her head, covering nose and mouth, brings us wet towels. Mother puts one around Spica’s face, holding her close. Her eyes are wide, like a crazed animal’s. She reminds me of the cats I used to pet. When one would try to run away, I’d keep it close, causing it to hiss, and its eyes the very same gleam of terror. I put the towel on my mouth and nose. I don’t see Father until the worst has passed.

Rigel comes back with his face and tunic murky. He coughs and stands in front of us. The fire subsides. We are informed East and North used their magic to stop the spread of fire. The Academy is nowhere to be seen. They could have arrived sooner than us. Why aren’t they here?

We learn that, as if by some miracle, there were no casualties. Servants were called to the kitchens by someone in the palace, which saved their lives. There is a passage to the gardens through the kitchens. I used it several times in the past to grab food to study at my spot, uninterrupted. The catastrophe was no accident. Someone staged it all. The timing was impeccable - all the knights were at the parade. We don’t have that many guards. It took little effort for them to infiltrate the castle and set fire to the weakest point. The bookshelves. They contained so much knowledge, so much information about our world. Why?..

The king’s fists are clenched. He looks at Mother and growls. “My office. It was burnt too.” I gasp. Mother closes her eyes and Rigel curses loudly.

“This cannot be ignored anymore. Someone is inflicting horrors for three days straight!” I cry out, turning to face them all. They only stare, no words leaving their mouths. “We have to do something!”

Father nods. He grabs my hand. “You will not do anything without my approval.”

I nod. “I won’t disobey, Your Majesty.” I say, looking at the castle. I must only pray it does not happen again. Because the next time East and North won’t be here to stop the fire, and the only magic wielder in proximity will be me.

Both shadowguards lead us all inside. I head to the courtyard - the place I loved more than my own room. It’s a travesty. The garden I hid in yesterday was nothing but lifeless trees and a broken fountain. The water wasn’t flowing anymore and the birds had left. I’m glad to not find any animal corpses. I hear distant voices, angry and shocked, retelling the accident. That was no accident. Our people better find the person who did this and jail them. As I walk through the rubble, I see the staff busy bringing burnt wood outside to be thrown out.

I glance at East, moving some debris with phantom hands. An easy spell: asking spirits to help. He cooperates until dusk and then he will be gone. Like West. To the distant Isles, so foreign, so unapproachable. I cannot go there. My home is here, and it is being destroyed, little by little. I cannot let it continue. But how do you fight an enemy that you have never seen?

I’ve fought things in my life before, I tell myself this cannot be harder than the Academy's Apricus exams.

“This does prove your Queen’s point. Literal warzone,” I whine, glancing at East. He ignores me. I lower my gaze, embarrassed that he has not heard me. I won't try to speak again. He made it clear we are not friends. He made it clear he can’t wait to leave us to our demise, to save his skin. West nearly died for me - but I cannot hold him up to that standard. West did so under the guise of love, and East? He has never felt love for this place, because he did not belong here. And I cannot judge him further. I must accept his departure like I accepted being held in the dark for so long.

My eyes slide to my right, the epicenter of the fire. The library’s door is creaking and barely standing, and there is nothing left of the books. It’s only ash and ghastly woes of lost knowledge. The chandelier has fallen on the ground and shattered in thousands of glass pieces. I carefully walk around the scene, still breathing into my towel from time to time. It became warm from my breath.

I loved spending time here when I was in my late teens. I found the place to be calming, away from all the responsibilities of being the crown princess. Of course, I had to read a lot on economy and foreign politics to be able to take on the role of ruler, but it was the least of my worries back then; it was better than meeting nobles and flattering them on their creative clothing. At some point, the castle’s library was my escape from Aquamarine.

The gift I bore since birth flowed through my veins and had to be controlled. It took me years to master some elements. They were cruel at the Academy. All of them. Now, with the library destroyed, I have no choice but to return there, if I ever needed material. I softly sob at the fact before me. There is no escape from the rising tensions.

I look to the ground, searching for any traces of the perpetrator. I only find ripped pages and spilled ink. But then, I see an object reflecting the sunlight that peers through what is left of the velvet curtains. I get closer and my eyes widen. It’s our emblem. Intact, as our silver doesn’t burn so easily. I take it, and it’s still warm. Only kingsguard and knights wear these. But was it one of the guards trying to put out the fire who lost this, or was the perpetrator a guard or knight?

I instantly try to think of anything weird that has happened to me in the past few days. I try to remember anything out of place, maybe a guard or a servant speaking lower than usual. Maybe something moving in the middle of the night in the gardens. But I don't manage to remember anything. It’s all a blur of raw emotion. I’ve been so afraid these past days that I couldn’t even think straight. I kneel and watch the emblem carefully. It’s shiny and beautiful. I can’t believe one of our people could have done this. It can’t be. I must be mad. Angry, I let my thoughts rampage.

I walk out of the library back into the courtyard. I pass through and arrive at the foyer. There I walk up the marble stairs, covered with a turquoise carpet, that miraculously survived the fire, and find myself in front of the royal office. The door is a bit grim, but still standing. I push it a bit and see Father’s desk. It’s still in the same position as yesterday. The floor is burned, but it’s safe to walk. I think. It hasn’t collapsed yet. The cabinets full of scrolls and books are burned too. Not to ash, but some documents are unrecoverable. I sigh. I try to find something here too, but it’s only paper.

On the desk, lies one single letter. It’s unscathed. I touch it and an electric shock pierces through me, but lets me take it. A magic seal - I’ve heard of those. Only the right people could open the scrolls. I didn’t think it was still used on letters. It has the Fae emblem on it. A golden deer, three horns and an eye, watching me. For an instant, I felt it follow my fingers. I close the door. Carefully, I try to open the envelope without ripping it in shreds from dread. The fact that the letter sits so perfectly on the desk, safe and sound, puts me in a somewhat difficult position. Curiosity takes over finally.

I read it.

Calen.

I’m quite disturbed by the news. You told me you had everything under control, and now I receive the limp dead body of my best shadowguard. I've had enough. The revolution is growing and you cannot let them thrive any further.

I’m taking my people home. I will not risk losing another soul to your rule.

Consider this a warning. If you don’t manage the unrest, the secret we buried together will come out at some point. And none of us will live to meet the repercussions.

- Queen Astral of the Honeyed Combs.

I reread the same sentence over and over again. Limp dead body of a shadowguard? That can’t be a coincidence but it has to be. It must be. He’s not dead. He’s a Fae, they do not die easily like we do. He must be alive, healing at the Isles. And what about the secrets they buried?

I put the letter back into the envelope with trembling hands. Sweat is dripping down my back and I feel the pressure of the smoky air. I have to leave, to get away from this wretched place. But I have nowhere to run to. This is my only home, and parts of it were just burned to the ground. A tear falls down my cheek, but I brush it away with my palm. No, no, no, no.

I try to find glue in the desk’s drawers, but find only scissors and paper clips. The drawers are dusty, as if Father did not allow servants to clean. I shake my head furiously, trying to find a way to conceal what I have ripped open. My hands are shaking, as I stumble against the burnt carpet.

I cannot think straight, but still a glimpse of an idea flashes before my eyes. I take a good look at the emblem and the eye is still watching me. I am sure it is alive. Some kind of magical guard, to keep unwanted visitors from opening the letter. Why did it let me open it then?

I don’t have time to pend. I hear footsteps approaching and inhale, trying to imagine a glue stick. A tiny yellow glue stick that will glue the paper together and make it look unopened. When I open my eyes, nothing is there. I gasp, realizing the spell hasn’t worked.

To hell with it, he will probably not notice anyway. I leave the office in the most natural manner possible.

Father stands by his throne, looking over our servants and guards. Knights are here too. Everyone looks distressed. Mother’s eyes burn with sorrow as the king speaks.

“We have been attacked. The palace is not safe anymore, but it will be. We will find the perpetrators and eradicate them. No people were lost today - but we cannot guarantee it for tomorrow. But we will fight, we will trust each other to make this place a safe haven again, for my family and for all of you, my subjects.”

The crowd cheers and claps as he dismisses them. I stand there, my body tired. My head aches and I am hungry. We didn’t have lunch - everyone had things to do, except for me. After the letter, I’ve been sitting on my bed, crying my eyes out. I could not decide whether to believe the limp body was West, or someone else. I could not decide between turning numb or using the pain to fight whoever stands in my way to the truth. Truth about this revolution, truth about the secret the Queen buried alongside Father.

“Let’s eat. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” Father turns to me and smiles, but it is strained. I can feel he forces himself to be gentle. Do not try to be gentle. Be honest about what you feel, Father. You are allowed to curse and damn the perpetrators as long as you help me uncover the truth. Of course, those words stay silenced. I do not wish to speak.