I wandered leisurely down the road to Pete’s Pies, hearing my coin purse jangling with semi-precious stones as my shoes clipped against smooth stones. Some people eyes wandered to me, to see royalty walk free, but besides that I was ignored. In the summer sun people sauntered by, some eating berries with a cup of milk. Another fae hurried past people, clearly late for work as indicated from his green and beige tunic. Some sort of business man. Other fae simply minded their own business, some greeting friends, others arguing about ‘leaving the window open last night’ so now they had a witch-wouse infestation.

She decided to take the scenic route through the park and saw a man lower himself to both his knees, holding the woman’s hands so she would kneel beside him. He was about to propose. Apparently her own parents got engaged in a large field by a frozen river, midwinter, where they both learned to skate.

Past the worbell, our place to worship Itha-Shaw the pie place became visible. I looked upon the flowers still in bloom, the candles that never burnt out. Itha-Shaw was a near invisible God only within tiny things could one see their effect on the world. The worbell was always the only building the same temperature, be summer or winter, the grass around it to never die no matter what comes, be it flood or drought.

The bell above jingled as I walked into the small, homey shop, the smell of fresh pastry filled my nose but sadly not my belly, yet. It resembled nothing to my castle, there was no major elegance or richness but like every fae design it was sophisticated, every wooden beam was straight and identical, the bricks that lined the floor were identical. ‘Ah, Princess Thea, welcome!’

‘Morning, Pete.’

Bang, bang, bang!

‘Princess? Princess?’

The small thing turned from her drawings on hearing a guard knock at my door.

‘Yes?’

‘The Queen asks for an audience with you, she is in most distress.’

‘I’ll be there at once.’

Being a fae meant being smaller than almost everything around you, being fae royalty meant you could rule over such small things. It didn’t mean our houses were of leaves, a shabby shack of sticks or a horrid hole of worms, it was of fae design, and that meant tranquility. In my pearl-white room crafted from marble I, the Princess, dabbed scented water on my cheeks and lips to brighten and redden them, it pricked my nose with the smell of sweet roses. Deciding on my green, summery dress I glazed across snow white marble as I hurried down the corridor.

As I hurried her steps encrusted emeralds glided across the walls and ceilings like vines and leaves, glittering like stars. Such beauty would instill wellness into anyone.

I was seen before I was heard, thin shoes hitting against stone. But the embarrassment the queen was eclipsed by a far greater matter than her daughters’ subpar elegance.

I allowed myself entry. Stepping through the mist which replaced a door I walked into the throne room. My face tightened with concern on finding my mother in her best garb, a long white dress that cascaded down like a river, encrusted with gemstones of deep sapphires. The silk white fabric… gleamed with such striking beauty it was near ethereal. In comparison to her deep-green floral dress it looked vulgar. I felt my ponytail it was tied up with some string I found near the kingdom, having been made by the giants.

‘My Queen…’ I began with a curtsy but quickly my mind trailed with concern: why did mother feel the need to wear that? The guards were already gone, prematurely told to leave. Something was wrong…

‘My daughter, as you know…’ Her crushing chest made simple speech hard so she clutched her Ruler of Fates’ symbol dangling around her neck. ‘Your father journeyed to the none-responsive village… But he has not returned.’ A hot flush travelled through me. ‘Other kingdoms have similar issues, so a summit is being held… I have to leave.’

My mind was sluggish to understand this revelation, perhaps I didn’t want to. Then mother placed a pale white hand on my shoulder and, like a bell striking, I understood.

‘I cannot lead!’ I cried out.

‘I have taught you well, and you are near age. You will do well, I’m as sure as the blood in my veins.’ I put my hand over my mothers, like that would stop her leaving.

Despite the feeling of burning I had to be brave in her choices, and fast in announcing them. ‘Okay… just- don’t let the winged fae mock us, a-and- and-.’ Clear speech eluded my, diluted by my swimming brain.

The queen kissed my forehead and slipped my hand away, out of its lose grip.

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‘I will return with a ten-day.’ She smiled despite the creases of pain in her face, her nestled eyes aching. ‘You will do phenomenal, to protect your people with fire none alike have!’

I felt the strongest urge to run after her, to pull her back, to rip and ruin her perfect dress as an excuse to stay… but there was nothing to be done. As the Queen stepped through the mist my chest ached.

Emotion overflowed, eyes swelling with tears. I knew I should go to the carriage and watch her off, but such a task would break my heart to watch her leave so slowly.

After a moment to attempt to calm myself I informed the guards to enter. ‘Yes, sire?’

‘You will refer to me as Queen.’ I spoke with forced resolve, then approaching the white throne I felt the smooth coolness of the stone under my delicate fingertips. Strength instilled itself within me… and I sat down. Despite it being rigid, unmoving, it felt like it was morphing to my body’s shape. It was comfortable. Fae design never strived for anything but being comfortable. They were the masters of pleasantness, grounded serenity. While, wave faeries were known for ego and beauty, and the winged fae for sport and agility, being earth-fae was superior by far.

Heart thumping I tried to relax into the marble… if only the throne was as true as the work itself.

An advisor entered, there were many people wishing her audience.

‘Let the first enter.’ I commanded. Not soon after a farmer, assumed so by dirtied garb and poor quality clothes, shuffled in, staring downward like it was an insult to meet my eyes. I had never seen fabric look so rough. I was suddenly aware of my soft dress. The best tailors would take weeks to make any item of my own clothing but he must have repaired his own, and quickly at that.

‘My Queen.’ He bowed. My stomach twisted at his words, the gravity of the situation intensifying.

‘Speak of your woe.’

‘No gu'rds on d’fence means a rat did ruin my farm and ‘ouse. My b’others’ are injured.’

I felt my heart ache once more. I needed to think of a solution but the days’ events were already burning up any easy thought. ‘I’ll spare enough troops and workers to fix your houses and ensure barricades and sew the land as soon as possible. As for your family… bring them inside the walls for treatment.’ I prayed my voice was as strong as my belief in making the right choice, but even that I second guessed.

The farmer seemed shocked, taken aback by such a kindness. He bowed over and over, thanking me again and again, speaking the grace of Itha-Shaws name as a guard showed him out.

Almost immediately, another entered, looking just as disheveled.

I took a deep breath.

***

I had not slept well for a ten-day, since my mother left, since I was placed in charge. But today was her scheduled return. Like every day since, dressed in queen-appropriate attire and was excited to be able to take it off soon. I had never been so grateful for a simple dress before. Sitting on the throne I informed a scout to watch the horizon for mothers’ carriage.

Hours later a messenger returned, not the scout. My skin prickled at the sight of a letter. Unfurling it… my eyes bore at what I read. Near sick I demanded the guards to leave, it felt hours until they obeyed until it was merely me and the messenger.

‘W-…’ I was breathless, winded. ‘Who gave you this?’ I breathed, voice a whisper.

‘King Ferida.’

‘The…’ Light headedness consumed me until the world swimming. ‘She can’t come back?’ My voice squeaked like a mouse. I put down the note- ‘the council is missing…’

‘There have been reports on what did this.’

I heaved air inward to my lungs to stop myself from passing out.

‘While unconfirmed, it’s theorized it’s a felden man.’ Simple men folk were giants to them.

This wasn’t happening…

This couldn’t be happening!

The messenger continued ‘it is unknown their reasoning of the attacks and takings, my Queen-…’ His lips continued but I heard none of it but my ringing ears… ‘Attacks’… ‘Takings’… Such words didn’t belong in my life, especially not in relation to my family.

Weakly I pulled myself from the throne and began to run. I gained speed and surety as I sprinted down corridors and to my room quicker than I thought I could possibly do.

Slamming the door and locking it tight I tumbled back onto my bed. But it didn’t keep out the terrible world, if anything it festered in me like a tumor. Suddenly vomit rose and fell from my mouth until there was nothing in my stomach. Not only were my parents potentially dead, I would rule an entire kingdom through the crisis! A groan like in pain escaped my lips, needing to scream and yell everything away! My body burnt like I was being cooked, crawling with fiery needles. I buried my face in my hands and sickly yellow curls. This couldn’t be happening!