I CAN'T HELP but to steal glances at the pendant as I walk. Time seems to stand still at every glimpse. The two serpents practically come alive, their golden scales glinting under the warm sunlight, their sleek bodies twisting around the myriad of jewels.

How can I trade away something so beautiful?

I nearly walk head on into a rush of children bounding by, so enamored by the jewels. I just barely swivel my hips around them and give a sorrowful smile back before covering the pendant with my hands.

Maybe that'll help me focus.

The narrow cobblestone streets are now fully awake with activity as I make my way, heading deeper through the crowd. There's a sense of anticipation in the atmosphere, excited hushes and impatient whispers. Word has gotten out of Prince Noadok's arrival, and it seems that everyone is eager for dinner with royalty.

But why is he staying? What purpose will the feast serve?

I shake my head, trying to gather my thoughts of our conversation.

Knowledge is power.

I remember the words of the prince again.

But what knowledge does he mean specifically?

What do I need to know?

Had he even answered any of my questions? I feel like I know even less.

A long sigh escapes my nostrils, cooling off the sweat gathering by my upper lip.

What I do know, is that Prince Noadok seems rather certain my father is leaving with him for a quest to kill a beast.

My steps come slower, almost hesitant. Involuntarily, I drag them, like my sandals have been tied to rocks. The pendant's shape has become ingrained within my palms. I don't dare to look again, but the gold within my clasped fingers burns hot. I can't tell if it's really happening, or I'm imagining it as an excuse to look. I grip tighter, and a tingling sensation runs up my arm.

When finally I make the turn to approach the jeweler's, I falter, almost as if caught in an invisible spider's web.

Hidden away and displayed inside our jewelers is the most massive assortment of precious gemstones and ornate accessories I've previously seen, but all of them combined will seem dull compared to the prince's pendant. Compared to the prince's anything really. Even his teeth seem a shade whiter than the jewelers pearls. I square my shoulders, gaining every sense of conviction I have, ready to trade away the pendant that feels like it's become permanently seared into my skin. Letting go of the pendant with one hand, I reach for the entrance and tug.

And tug.

And tug?

It's... locked?

My curiosity forgets the pendants beauty, and I cup my hands to peer into the glass and see the entire building has been cleared out. My gasp of confusion fogs up the glass.

"Jeweler left this afternoon, honey."

A woman's voice spooks me into standing back up straight.

"On short notice," one of our butchers, I realize, momentarily stepping out of her shop. Agnes, I recall, continues, her voice tinged with sympathy as she wipes her hands on her leather apron. "Bunch of families came through this morning and bought out all his wares. Lots of folks left with 'em actually. Said a wealthy prince in town had given away his belongings. Who knows why? Guess the Emperor has new clothes."

"So there's no more jeweler? He just... left?"

"Sure did!" Agnes laughs so hard she goes red in the face, swatting at her belly. "With that kind of wealth anybody would head for the city."

"What am I supposed to do? I have something I'm supposed to trade."

"Wait." The butcher shrugs. "Another traveller will set up shop and replace him in a matter of days. Or see if a smaller stall can take the item. Sorry, kid."

"I doubt a smaller stall can take this." I grumble, turning away. "But than-"

"Wait, wait!" She shouts, but quickly reels in, choosing to instead try for something more nonchalant. "By chance... what is it?" But there's a gleam in her eye that appears before she's even aware of it herself.

"A necklace." I answer honestly. "From... the Prince. We're having this feast that he wants to pay for, the whole village is invited actually. I'm sure word will spread soon-"

"Sounds like quite the event." She hurries excitedly. "Tell you what, Kaia-"

-So she does actually know my name-

"-I would be honored to help you and your father host the Prince."

"Oh, but I can't pay you right now. The jeweler-"

"Kaia, Kaia! It would be my pleasure to host such a man. But, uh... Perhaps in exchange we can agree to make sure he tries some, huh? Maybe he'll have another spare necklace for me somewhere."

With that Agnes winks, and quickly ushers me by the door before I can protest her... generosity... the savory scent of cooking meats envelopes me. I am prompted to "put away that necklace and order whatever I want".

I slip the pendant into my pouch, its weight a constant reminder of its presence. The butcher's gaze lingers on the spot where it disappeared. Her fingers twitch, as if itching to reach for it.

Agnes's hoarse voice has become her version of honeyed. "I'm thinking Parmesan Crusted Pork Loin, Garlic Picanha, Leg of Lamb- nothing but the best for royalty."

My ears perk up at the words. I bet the butcher can hear my stomach grumble too as we select cuts of meat, discuss spices, and plan quantities. My father says king's eat richly because they are afraid every meal will be there last. Even just the meat selection alone I would happily scarf down as a final meal. If the last thing I ever taste is the butcher's open flame roasted pork ribs, then I would truly rest in peace.

"We're gonna need a cheese platter too, can't forget that! Perhaps a selection of aged cheddar, gouda, and brie, I'm sure Valerie will bring out her good stuff-" the butcher's excitement gets the best of her as she suggests different preparations for the feast.

"I don't know yet if any other shops are as willing to help," I point out.

She huffs out a laugh before leaning in real close. "Leave that to me. Give me an hour and I'll have the best shops in this village contributing."

With that, Agnes ushers me out of her shop with the promise of "The supper of a lifetime for the Prince", the bell tinkling as the door swings finally closes behind.

The crowd has thickened since I'd become focused on the butcher's. People jostle past me, their voices a mix of excitement and speculation about the Prince's visit. I catch snippets of conversation as I stand, almost in shock.

"...never seen a royal like him..."

"...wonder what he wants..."

"...heard he's giving away his belongings..."

I push forward, my mind racing. The jeweler's sudden departure, the butcher's eagerness to help, the villagers' mounting excitement—it all feels wrong.

The prince's words echo in my head, over and over. The hidden message I'm missing. The secret I'm supposed to be holding close to my chest: Knowledge is power. But what knowledge? And why does he need my father?

A child darts past me, nearly knocking me off balance. I stumble, my hand flying to my pouch. The pendant pulses against my fingers, warm and alive. I snatch my hand away as quickly as I can, but my heart pounds faster nonetheless. The crowd's excitement swells around me, a stark contrast to the unease churning in my gut. Despite the scare, my feet move of their own accord, carrying me through the bustling village. The pendant throbs in my pouch like a second heartbeat.

It's impossible to ignore.

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Suddenly, I jump, as from behind me, a hand snakes around my arm, pulling me in. Jovanna's bright red hair tumbles around my vision and before I can speak, she's squealing, "Have you seen him yet!"

I twist around to meet her eyes, noticing a faint redness to her cheeks, not quite a sunburn, but the hint of a blush.

"Jovanna!" My heart swells at the sight of her. My worries of the Prince evaporate like mist under the sun's warm rays. Her green eyes framed by auburn eyelashes glow with nothing but health and happiness.

I don't know how I can tell so quickly, but I just know; She must have no memory of the storm.

Without a second thought, I pull her in for a hug.

She squeals again, embracing me.

"We missed you yesterday at the party, but your father dropped off the bracelets this morning! They're so gorgeous, Kaia. Thank you!"

I can hardly believe my ears as Jovanna's words sink in. My father had dropped off bracelets for her?

I tear my gaze away from Jovanna and look towards the new dangling gold around her wrists. Wrappings finely trimmed and embellished with sparkling emeralds.

When I grasp her hands within my own, I am feigning that I am only admiring them on her.

If I hadn't already been made aware, I'd think it was fine gold. Expensive, definitely. Maybe I'd assume it must be very foreign. But now I know better.

It's Fae jewelry.

Maybe knowledge is power.

But then my gaze strays down to her finger nails.

Dirt covered underneath. Unsurprising. Her family works with spices and herbs.

Bruised, however, is a different story. She's almost dark bluish on some fingers.

The normally squash yellow details of them are instead laced with the same ethereal gold haze that has taken over our village. Another question I will have for the Prince.

"What happened to your fingers?" I wonder, unable to even voice my genuine admiration for the bracelets before my concern comes out.

Jovanna squeezes my hands and giggles. "I don't even know. Probably something I did yesterday without realizing. I just kind of woke up with them. They don't hurt too bad though. My mother said I must have done more damage dancing than I realized!"

Despite her tone, unease gnaws at me like a hungry animal. She must read it on my face.

"What's wrong? It is your Great Aunt?" She guesses, and the mention of Elora makes my mood wilt even more so. "I spoke to Eustace at the market about her, he didn't seem too worried- and he knows his stuff, you know? And your father told the elders it would be just 3 weeks without her-"

I shake my head, unable to voice my suspicions in front of her. "She'll be okay," I realize I'm reassuring myself more than I am her. "I'm just... I don't know. I'm really glad you like the bracelets, Happy birthday."

Pulling her in for another tight hug, I can't help but focus on the movement of her chest, and the beating of her heart I can practically feel against her flushed skin.

Alive and warm.

"You seem more than distracted. It is about tonight? That Prince isn't making you nervous, is he?"

Something stops me from confiding in her. Jovanna has no memory of the storm, of my frantic search for answers about my mother. The most she's aware of would be my father's legends and of the existence of the fae realm, as most are.

Aunt Elora might not have liked my father talking about the fae, but that didn't stop others. We all know of the lullabies that sing of beautiful and elusive immortal humanlike creatures, in a prosperous land of wealth, and eternal abundance.

What little we know comes from the few mortals who have entered and those lucky enough to have fae artifacts from the fae realm. Usually mirrors, armor, clothing, cosmetics, instruments, or alcohol.

How do I tell Jovanna her new bracelets carry the same magic?

Mortals spend lifetimes, generations figuring out how to get anything from the fae realm. Let alone travel there. Fae however, since the existence of forever, have never been much interested in us, and why would they be?

The heat isn't what causes sweat to make my thick waves stick to the back of my neck, nearly wet. I don't know how to say any of it. So, I don't.

"No, it's not about the Prince," I lie, forcing a smile. "It's just... You're right! Uh, Aunt Elora..."

Her bracelets glint in the sunlight as she pulls me back in. "I knew it! Everyone seems so sure she'll come back, Kaia. You don't have to worry. Come on, let's find Circe and get you ready to eat some real good food. I heard the butcher's preparing a whole roasted pig! Tell me you're not interested even a little in that!"

She knows me so well, and at the very least this makes me crack a smile. Of course I'm interested in what the butcher's managed to get the villagers to bring. I hum to myself silently at the thought.

Honey drizzled olives, cow's milk cheese, honeycombs, cakes, and all kinds pastries...

Rare luxuries I would enjoy tonight, despite whatever rivalry my father has with the prince.

Despite... Aunt Elora.

She's not dead. I tell myself. Just in a, profound, sleep.

She will be back. The Prince has already given his solemn vow. He will die, if that is not the case.

That is my solemn vow.

"It's like the time we had the king visit," Jovana exclaims, drawing me back to reality, her eyes sparkling as she take me forward towards where Circe is.

Villagers prepare by rushing with carts and baskets of tree fallen fresh fruit and smoked meat towards the forest, following the path I take daily. I guess the Prince has requested his feast be outside my families cottage, on our hill. I wonder where Great Aunt Elora's coffin of clear snow is now, hidden from our festivities. The thought chills my bones, and I can't help but shudder, arms folding in on myself. The phantom chill of the blizzard seeps into my bones.

As we near the edge of the forest, I hear Circe. She's easy to spot after that, still dressed in red, but this time loose maroon trousers, and a lacy white off the shoulder top. Her dark hair gleams in the sunlight as she directs a group of men carrying a long wooden table.

Circe turns, her face breaking into a wide smile. "There you are! I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost in all this chaos."

I genuinely smile at her, my eyes racking up and down, studying every inch of her bronzed skin, completely healed. No scars. No blood. Standing and shouting like her usual self.

The chill of the blizzard lessens.

Just then, a loud crash occurs.

One of the men has stumbled, dropping his end of the table. Dishes and goblets clatter to the ground, shattering on impact.

"Watch it!" Circe snaps, rushing over to assess the damage.

Her brow furrows at the sight, but she quickly shakes her head, waving off his apologies. "It's alright, it's just a few dishes. We can replace them. Let's focus on setting up for the feast," Her expression softens, and Jovanna also comes to help clean what’s broken.

I stand frozen, unable to tear my gaze away from the shattered clear glass dishes reflecting slivers of sunlight.

The fragile crystal reminds me of Aunt Elora's icy coffin hidden somewhere, possibly in the forest.

I manage to tear my eyes away from the broken shards and focus on Circe, who is now directing the men to set up the table once more. The buzz of activity around me seems distant, muffled by the weight of my thoughts. Even the pulsing of the pendant isn’t enough to distract me anymore.

Circe definitely notices, and quickly rushes back to me. “You don’t look so great, girl. You need to drink some water before the feast. Sit down or something.”

“Let’s go back to my cottage. It's just been so hot, and I honestly haven't had much to drink.” I touch my hand to my head to dramatize it, truly wanting nothing more than to disappear from all these eyes, but when I do I realize I really am chilled and sweating at the same time.

Perhaps I even really do have a fever.

I’m steered through the forest, hooked onto by Jovanna and Circe like my life depends on it. And maybe it does when I'm feeling like this. Normally, I would consider myself to be the quickest, the most nimble. But today, they practically drag me home.

Images flash behind my eyelids - Aunt Elora's still face, the shattered dishes, the Prince's knowing smile.

If he knows something, why doesn’t he just tell me?

Is it the same reason my father hasn't told me anything? To protect me?

But hadn't the Prince said over and over I didn't need protection.

He was just as confusing as ever. I can only hope he says something more coherent this time during the feast. The most dangerous weapon is the one they don't know you have. Which right now, seems useless since I also don't know what the weapon we have is. What kind of weapon we could even need. Would a fae sword not suffice for a creature like Shivnook? Surely whatever he, a Fae Prince, has access to must do some kind of damage.

My overthinking threatens to send me completely spiraling as we pass everything that the villagers have already set up outside- tables, chairs, and lanterns.

Jovanna and Circe don’t stop fussing over me even as we enter the cottage and I'm taken upstairs.

Jovanna momentarily disappears, fetching water for me.

"I hope this isn't too extravagant. I think my father seems... frazzled." I manage to speak, collapsing onto my bed.

Circe laughs, "Extravagant? Kaia, this is the kind of feast tales are spun from!"

Circe's words echo in my room and bounce around my skull. The cottage spins around me, and I press my palms against my eyes, trying to steady myself. The pendant pulses against my chest, speeding up it's rhythm to match my racing heartbeat.

"Here, drink this," Jovanna says, pressing the cool glass into my trembling hands. I sit up and take a sip, the water soothing my parched throat but doing little to ease the chilled fingers that claw deep into my very marrow.

When I close my eyes again, I see the eyes of my dreams. Surrounded by pure black, that pair of light blue has become almost familiar in my visions.

At just the memory of sight of those eyes, a whisper of cold air brushes against my clammy skin, raising goosebumps along my arms. My eyes pop open, wild and darting as I try to breath. Slowly, I regain the possession of my lungs back from him.

Jovana speaks, trying to be hopeful. "Who knows, maybe Prince Noadok will save a dance or two for us. Could you imagine?"

Circe grins back, eager to help lighten the mood. "Well, we should get ready then. Can't keep a Prince waiting."

Finishing the glass helps enough, so I offer Jovanna and Circe access to my own wardrobe, and we sift through closets of dresses, a cascade of fabrics and colors. Jovana produces a delicate and slender cream gown and Circe, very reluctantly, is talked into a fitting black dress with a matching red sash. Jovanna is slightly taller than me, and Circe slightly shorter, but they make do well enough.

As the room buzzes with excitement between the two, Circe suggests, "Let's braid each other's hair, something special for the feast."

My throat bobs up and down, nails digging into my own palms when I remember Aunt Elora's unfinished hair, but I only give a stiff smile.

Circe insists we all hair matching red ribbons, which of course Jovanna loves. So Jovanna cuts bright glimmering ruby silk for us.

I rub my hand over my nose, begging myself to focus. This is something to honor Aunt Elora's memory. Wearing red to ward the Fae. Almost like an act of rebellion.

We decide on two small ginger braids at the front of Jovanna's hair which are tied, of course, with bows. Circe weaves two long ribbons through two braids. And I pull my dark hair into a low bun, small pieces and bangs falling out as I tuck a bow underneath for support. It's long enough that it tickles the back of my neck as I move my head around in my vanity, adjusting the bun.

When I look outside again, I realize the light has dimmed tremendously. It's become evening now, and I can see the flicker of the outside lanterns casting orange hues on my walls.

The brightness of it's reflections remind me of my pendant. I find where my pouch has been unceremoniously left, and put on the necklace. The two serpents dance along my neck in response, no longer burning against my skin, but instead sending waves of something powerful down my shoulders.

It makes me ache for the Daenara pelt.

Jovanna squeezes my arm in reassurance.

She smiles as she leans in to whisper, "We'll be the talk of the village for moons to come."

Arm in arm, we step out into the night.