"...CANNOT HIDE HER forever, Orion."

The sound of their footsteps echoes in the small space of the linen closet, masking the erratic beat of my heart. I press a hand over my mouth to quieten the betraying breaths that threaten to reveal my presence. Through the thin slits between the closet door, I catch glimpses of their shadows flickering on the walls, but the movements appear slower, more sluggish than before.

I blink slowly, and press my knuckles into swirling motions to keep myself alert. A gentle warmth has spread through my limbs, softening the tension in my muscles. My hands find the pelt and grip tightly, clinging to the fur willing myself to focus.

"She is not meant for that world. Kaia deserves a normal life." My father's voice is unwavering.

"Have you no idea what is at stake?" Prince Noadok's voice rises, laced with urgency and frustration. "Shivnook will not stop. The Sun Court has now allied with the Summer Court against the Night Court, YOUR court must I remind you, Prince Orion?"

"I have left all of that behind."

Prince Noadok's eyes narrow, a shard of twilight blue cutting through the dimness of the linen closet. "You may have been lucky enough to severe ties with the Night Court, but I have not been spared. My Court has refused to aid your father in battle against them for the past seventeen years. You should feel indebted to me for that alone, but I can not turn a blind eye to this beast plaguing my people. I had to strike a bargain with King Orpheus."

At this name, I can hear my father's sharp intake of breathe.

"What did you do, Noadok?"

"What I had too." The prince speaks heavy with burden. "It has been nearly two decades of war since you two disappeared. The Summer court has accused you of kidnapping their princess! What do you make of that, Orion? Where is Arabella, truly? Shall I believe this nonsense you've told the villagers of her death? A sickness!"

The prince scoffs at the thought, then continues. "Shivnook is slaughtering villages, and you, oh great hunter of Avalon, had already fled with your forbidden bride! The only seer of the dark courts now resides in the Night Court. I bargained with your father that the Winter Court would join their war efforts, and ally with the Night Court, in exchange for a prophecy on how to defeat Shivnook. Obviously, the prophecy could have only been about you and I... right? The Only Prince and the stolen child. I find you, so you can kill Shivnook just as you had the Daenara. Except when I arrived, it wasn't you on your stead- in your pelt... it was that girl. Arabella's heir... taken from her realm... some might consider that a stolen child. Her presence would be enough to stop the war and satisfy the Summer Court. She can take the throne!"

My mind races as I try to piece together the fragments of conversation I've overheard. My mother was the princess of a Summer Court? But most importantly... she's not dead.

My mother isn't dead.

Orion's jaw sets in defiance, a silent challenge sparking in his eyes as he faces the prince head-on. "So wise beyond your years, and you're caught up in a prophecy? She's never eaten of golden apples. It just can not be! The pelt is mine. I am the stolen child, the tamer of the swift, the eater of golden apples-"

"Prophecies are fickle, Orion. Fate has a funny way of choosing its players," Prince Noadok sighs, a weary sound escaping his lips.

"If you really trusted in such superstitions, I would assume you'd have fully banished that Necromancer of yours. Perhaps that is an unstoppable fate you should be considering." Orion's voice is sharp and cutting, slicing through the tension in the room like a well-honed blade. I can almost taste the bitterness in the air as his words hang heavily between them.

Even the news of my mother is not enough to keep me standing. My knees give and I force myself against the wall for stability. My eyelids began to droop, each blink feeling longer and heavier than the last.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

What is wrong with me?

Prince Noadok's face remains impassive, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Do not speak of him." Noadok's voice is laden with warning, a dark undercurrent threading through his words. "Be grateful he is on his way. You will soon thank me more than you can ever comprehend."

Noadok's gaze flickers towards the linen closet, a subtle movement that does not escape my notice.

Another sharp intake from my father. "Don't speak in your riddles to me. What else do you know?"

"I told you. I know everything." The prince's lips curl into a cold smile, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "You will come willingly, Orion. You always have."

Orion clenches his fists at his sides, his jaw tight with tension. The weight of the prophecy hangs heavily in the air, suffocating in its implications. My thoughts drift, disconnected and hazy, like clouds passing in a dream. The sweet trill of morning birds sing on the edge of my awareness. Low mourning doves and soft robins. Soothing whistling notes that lull. My head nods in response, momentarily lolling to the side. Suddenly, like a shard of glass that pierces through the peaceful air, the haunting caw of a raven. I react quickly, catching myself against the linen walls.

Not a lullaby, but a warning.

My eyes widen, a burst of alertness as I remember Aunt Elora's dream.

The memory of the raven right before the storm.

"It is almost daybreak." My father's voice cuts through the stretched tight atmosphere in a temporary truce. "We should be concerning ourselves with repairs. Before Kaia wakes up. The tea's effects will only last until sunrise."

At this, the prince grins.

What was in the tea my father gave me?

"Of course," the prince's teeth flash brilliantly. "It wouldn't be fitting for her to have the wrong first impression of me. Surely, when we meet tomorrow, I will do much better."

Orion's eyes narrow as he studies Prince Noadok, a flicker of mistrust dancing in his gaze. "And what will happen then? Will you be playing the part of the charming prince for her?"

"I am the only one not playing a part. I am the only one ensuring Kaia is hearing and seeing everything she needs to. Trust that I will handle it accordingly."

"Handle it?" Orion scoffs. "Hubris is a silent assassin you provoke loudly. How can you be so confident?"

A smirk twitches at the corners of Noadok's lips as he meets Orion's gaze. "Confidence is a luxury afforded to those who can calculate for it. You should learn to appreciate it."

The edges of my vision began to blur, colors melting into indistinct shapes as if viewed through a thick fog.

Will I even remember this when I wake up?

With my vision swimming in a sea of colors and shapes, I struggle to maintain my grip on consciousness. The voices of my father and Prince Noadok sound muffled, distant, as if they are speaking to me from the other end of a long tunnel. The warmth in my limbs spreads like liquid honey, pulling me deeper into a hazy fog of drowsiness. My fingers loosen their grip on the pelt, the fur slipping from my grasp as I sway on unsteady feet. The words exchanged echo faintly in my mind, distant and muffled like a melody fading into the night.

I struggle to keep my eyes open, sleep beckoning me closer with each passing moment. It feels as though I'm standing on the precipice of a dream, teetering between wakefulness and slumber. The air grows heavy around me, laden with the sweet scent of wildflowers and moonlight.

Their figures blur before my eyes, their forms wavering like mirages in the desert heat. In a heartbeat, they flicker out of existence, leaving behind only an empty space where they once stood. Just as I feel myself succumbing to the temptation of oblivion, a sharp jolt of realization cuts through the fog in my mind.

My mother is alive.

The revelation pierces through the haze of my thoughts like a bolt of lightning, electrifying me with newfound clarity.

I push open the closet door to reveal the now empty space. The first light of dawn is beginning to spill through the windows into the room, casting long shadows across the floor. A few minutes must have passed. Each step feels like a monumental effort, as if dragging my leaden limbs through quicksand. The stairs twist beneath me in a dizzying dance of shadows and light, the sounds of muffled voices fading into a distant hum.

With each faltering step, the hall spins and warps around me, shadows stretching like grasping fingers in the dim light.

Every breath I take feels like shards of glass in my lungs, each inhale a battle against the heaviness that threatens to pull me into unconsciousness.

With one last burst of energy, I stumble forward and collapse onto the soft mattress, my body trembling with exhaustion and the weight of revelations yet to come.

The room spins around me, shadows melding and shifting in a dizzying display as I struggle to anchor myself to reality. The remnants of the tea course through my veins like a river of molten silver, burning away the fog that had clouded my thoughts. Images and memories flash before my eyes in a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions, each one piercing through the veil of confusion that shrouds my mind.

I clutch the sheets beneath me, fingers curling into fists as I'm forced into the relentless pull of sleep.