EVERY VILLAGER AND traveler has gathered in the clearing where the usually tall golden grass grows short, the warmth of their bodies mingling with the cool night air. Flickering lanterns and raised chandeliers sway, casting a soft glow over the scene. A full silver moon hangs low in the sky. The tables are laden with feasts fit for kings - platters of roasted meats, toasted breads, and an abundant array of fruits and cheeses. Goblets are filled to the brim with wine and cider, their sweet aroma wafting through the air.

Agnes really got to work, I think to myself. The old butcher must have really wanted to impress the prince.

I roll my eyes and cling to Jovanna and Circe as we walk.

All this food, and he hadn't spent a coin. All this work done, why? Based on the chance he might have something to spare for her?

I search for Prince Noadok in the crowd.

He looks every bit the part of a Fae prince, tall and imposing with his chestnut hair catching the fire light. He seems to be the only one who hasn't changed into a new pair of clothes for the feast, but I guess he gave away his only formal pair. His shifting dark blue eyes dart around, taking in every detail with an intensity that makes me shiver. My heart races as the Prince's gaze sweeps over gathering, finally expertly landing on me.

His eyes lit up, a ring of baby blue that appears in his iris, so visible I can see it even from here. Lips curved into a smile, his brows shoot up. The Prince points to me before gesturing with a hand to his own neck.

The pendant.

The feeling of power it had given me previously disappears as I worry for his reaction, and the burning feeling returns.

I had disobeyed, greedily kept the necklace for myself.

Would he get mad?

But the worry only lasts a second.

His smile widens and he gives an approving gesture. His attention only draws other eyes to me, and I blush, making me wish I could pull it out of my bun and hide behind the thick curtain of my hair. But just as quickly he turns back to the crowd and what other choice do they have but to go back to focusing on the brilliance of him?

I wish the plain clothes did him a disservice, but it's almost the contrary. They're so bland in comparison to the arched slope of his brow, the thickness of groomed eyebrows, the glow of his tanned skin underneath.

He only looks more beautiful.

Jovanna and Circe pull me forward, and I catch a glimpse of Aunt Elora's friends, heads bowed as they sit at the edge of the clearing with Solaris. Their somber expressions match Solaris's wilting energy.

Promises of Aunt Elora's return hasn't diminished the feeling of her absence.

But tonight is not for mourning. Not for me.

I take a sharp inhale and brave my face.

Aunt Elora will be back.

"You're worse off than I thought." Circe gets my attention as I'm dragged to a stop.

"What do you mean?" I worry, becoming more aware of my body than I'd like to be right now.

Worse off?

My overthinking about Aunt Elora, Orion, and the Prince must show on my face because Circe laughs.

"Kaia, we're standing in front of the best feast this village has ever seen, the Prince just looked at you like you hung the moon, and you're so deep in thought, I'm surprised you haven't tripped over your own feet yet."

I blink, focusing on the view before me. Rows of glazed and smoked meats, spiced and roasted for royalty. Cuts as thin as parchment, some peppered with spices and lemon, some sprinkled with nuts, some topped with mushrooms and other buttered vegetables.

Agnes has definitely pulled some strings, alright.

A whole roasted pig gleams in oil, a honey drizzled apple lazily resting in it's mouth. Fire roasting ducks turn on a spit, and a goat's being prepared to be cooked next. Sea food lines the edges of trays, glistening shells and salty vibrant red and orange sauces ready for dipping.

"Are you a changeling? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?" Jovanna jokingly cries, dramatically clinging to my shoulders. "The Kaia I know would be stuffing her pockets with pastries right now."

But tonight, even her laughter feels distant, as if it's echoing from a place I can't quite reach.

"You're right." I snap back into focus, forcing a smile and reaching to pile a plate with different cuts. "Can't let this all go to waste!"

I try to joke back, but my stomach just isn't where it's supposed to be.

The aroma sensory overload normally brings me comfort, but it only amplifies my unease tonight.

I stack everything I think I can manage for now, and tell myself I can always go back for seconds.

Jovanna and Circe give me their goodbye's before finding seats with their families, and we promise to regroup later.

I'll be expected to sit at Orion's right hand.

Close to the Prince.

I search the crowd for my father, and a flash of silver braided hair snags my eye. I whirl, hope igniting, but it's just a stranger. It's impossible to stop the tears that begin to prick my eyes. Aunt Elora's absence yawns within me, the chasm within my chest opening wider.

The pendant flares suddenly, scorching my skin. I hiss, clawing at it, but it clings like a brand. Panic claws my throat. I have to get away, have to breathe.

I shove through the crowd, ignoring the startled cries and curses. I break free at last, gulping the crisp night air. My knees buckle and I slump against a tree, the rough bark biting my palms.

"Kaia?"

I jerk upright. Prince Noadok stands before me, brow furrowed. In the lantern light, his eyes glint like shards of obsidian.

"Prince Noadok." I dip my head, cursing my trembling voice.

He steps closer, too close. Feet away, but I still press back against the tree, bark digging into my spine. His scent envelops me, cedar and smoke.

"The pendant suits you. I'm glad you kept it."

His gaze lingers on the pendant, then goes back up to mine.

"It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me before she died," He admits, voice low. "Pairs well with your mother's own dress." Prince Noadok gestures to my gown.

My breath catches in my throat.

The Queen's necklace?

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

My hand drifts up, a finger finding and stroking along the one of the snake's heads.

"You should take it back then. If it was your mothers."

"Keep it. It's rude to not accept gifts, you know?"

The Prince's gaze pierces into me, expectant. I swallow hard, my throat dry.

"Thank you," I manage, the words sticking in my mouth. But, I then rush out my questions, "Why would you give it away? Why give any of your things away? Half the village is missing because you funded them to run off to the inner kingdom."

The Prince's expression is strange, before he ultimately shakes his head.

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown, right? Now, I have no crown."

"You're still a prince."

"Only the way today is still today. Tomorrow, who knows?"

"Do you ever just talk or have you spent your entire life under a bridge raised by trolls?"

He laughs at my boldness, and it's the kind of sound that draws attention. Clear and deep like a wave that washes over, then pulls you under.

"Trolls would have been kinder teachers."

"I can teach you a thing or two about kindness," I retort.

His brows shoot up, the corners of his mouth quirking up at my attitude. Pure delight shows at my revolt, so he teases, "I'm sure you could, but I have a feeling I might prefer the trolls."

I roll my eyes, but can't help the smile tugging at my own lips. "Who taught you to make that face? The trolls?"

He laughs again, a sound that seems to rattle the leaves of the trees we lean against.

A mix of frustration and amusement bubbles inside me. The Prince's easy demeanor is entirely captivating and completely infuriating.

I can't help but chuckle along with him, the tension that had coiled in my chest slowly unraveling under the attention of his smile.

"Quick-witted." He compliments, before another jab. "But I should tell you, our courts no longer hire the position of jester."

"Pity. I'm sure you'll find work else where."

Even as our giggling fades, his eyes still sparkle with amusement from our banter.

"Your laughter is a welcome change from the usual somber face," Prince Noadok remarks.

I feel a shift in the air between us, the weight of our conversation lingering like a secret shared between conspirators.

Here I am, at the edge of this clearing, with a Fae Prince. What would Aunt Elora think? The one who had brought the blizzard that seems so long ago in the presence of his smile. But the twisting feeling in my gut reminds me of his true colors, of his predatory nature. I can't figure out how he balances such opposites, like a creature made to attract, bright and gorgeous as a poisonous frog.

It's easy to forget the responsibilities and expectations that come with his title when he stands before me, simply as Noadok, a man who seems to no longer even want his crown.

I go to speak on what's been the real cause of my gloom, but I can't get the words out. "Aunt Elora..."

"Will be revived," Prince Noadok finishes the sentence, as sure as always when he says so. "A real shame she will miss this feast, however. That you may despair over. Truly, it's everything I was hoping for. I hear your father has even imported something from the Fae Realm."

I swallow, the lump in my throat feeling lighter at his promise of her return again.

"Why the feast, anyway?" I ask.

"Consider it... a celebration of union. A truce between our realms. It marks the end of years of bloodshed. And... there is to be a celebration soon for my brother in the Winter Court I will be missing. This is in his honor." Prince Noadok's expression darkens for a split second before he masks it with a ghost of a smile. "He'll like you."

A hint of surprise crosses my face. "I didn't know you had a sibling."

"My little brother." The Prince straightens and a rare softness fills his tone. "Maybe not so little anymore. He's been taller than me for years now, and certainly doesn't let me forget it."

"It must be nice to have a sibling," I say, feeling a pang of envy at the thought of the Prince's brother.

Jovanna has younger siblings, and Circe an older sister. Growing up an only child, I've always longed for that kind of bond.

The corners of Noadok's eyes crinkle with a hint of nostalgia. "It has its moments, I suppose."

"What's it like?"

Prince Noadok's gaze seems to unfocus a moment, lost in memories.

"We keep each other human."

I can't tell if it's supposed to be some sort of joke or another one of his riddles, but before I can ask, I see Orion through the crowd. The realization that I must return to the feast settles in my stomach like a stone.

Prince Noadok follows my gaze. "Ah, duty calls. Shall we?"

He offers his arm, and I hesitate for a moment before taking it. The coolness of his skin seeps through the fabric of his sleeve, sending a jolt through me.

This time, the scent of the cooking food and spiced wine makes my mouth water as we return to the feast.

I drop the Prince's arm, and he bows, before melting back through the crowd.

"There you are, Kaia," Orion's voice cuts through the night air, his eyes locking onto me. His face breaks into a small smile as he approaches, his dark dreads pulled back, away from his face for the festivities. "I've been looking everywhere for you. You vanished so suddenly."

"I just needed some air," I offer weakly, hoping he doesn't press for more, and he doesn't.

"Let's sit down." He is quick to remedy me with a distraction. "I've been saving you a plate of your favorites."

I offer a grateful smile to my father as he leads me to the longest, secluded table, beneath a canopy of blooming wisteria vines.

Prince Noadok has found his seat on my father's lefthand side, and gracefully engages in conversation with the many who have flocked to him. The murmur of conversation and the strumming of lutes provide a backdrop to my racing thoughts. I pick at the food on my plate, the conversation with Prince Noadok replaying in my mind. His eyes, the mention of that brother—I shake my head and spear an olive.

Orion talks about trade negotiations with a neighboring kingdom, his voice lulling me into a sense of normalcy. But when I glance up, I catch Prince Noadok watching me from across the table. I quickly look away, feeling my cheeks flush with heat. Orion doesn't seem to notice the exchange, engrossed in his discussion with a villager about tariffs and imports. I try to focus on the conversations around me, on the food in front of me, but Noadok's presence pulls at me like a tide, drawing me in against my will.

I excuse myself from the table, and head for seconds, where a helping of a savory lamb stew calls my name. The ladle barely touches my fingers before I'm rushed by Jovanna and Circe.

"No way you were just alone with the Prince!" Jovanna whisper shouts.

"It wasn't like that!" I defend myself, feeling my ears get hot.

Even Circe, never interested in boy talk, seems amused. "What a pick, Kaia." She laughs, teasing. "I'm sure Orion won't have anything to say about that."

I shoot them both a look.

"It was one, regular conversation. Nothing more."

Jovanna waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Okay okay, we'll back off... if you promise to invite us to the wedding!"

Circe and Jovanna collapse into giggles.

Their antics only make me groan, hands rubbing my eyes in annoyance as they try to contain themselves.

From the corner of my vision, I can see Prince Noadok has gotten the attention of my father. Orion's brow is furrowed in concentration, his jaw flexing tightly. The visible tension grows more and more with every second as they converse back and forth.

Circe nudges me forward, bringing me back to my friends with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You just can't keep your eyes off of him, huh?"

"You two are insufferable." I half-hearted glare, before returning my focus to the stew. "And I have to go back."

"Wait!" Jovanna grabs my sleeve. "Promise me you'll ask him if he'll dance with me?"

"What? No, that's ridiculous. You ask him."

"I don't want to ask him, I'm scared!" She whines.

"Fine!" I agree, watching my father's subtle aggression with the Prince become more and more obvious. "But you owe me."

She clings to my neck in a hug before her and Circe run off back to their tables.

I take a deep breath, stealing myself for the encounter.

"Everything alright?" I ask, my tone unnaturally cheery.

"I am finished with that topic of discussion." Orion doesn't answer me, speaking to Prince Noadok through gritted teeth.

Prince Noadok, a playful glint in his eye, retorts, "Your determination is admirable, Orion, but surely a well-fed stomach is good for clear thinking. It would be rash to make a decision before you've even tried the triple crèmed cheese. It's practically a good luck charm!"

I reach for a piece, slathering some on a cracker, in an effort to defuse the situation.

Despite the tension, the delicate bite is, actually, incredibly savory. "He's right!" I chime in through my chewing. "It's extraordinary. Maybe if you had more of it, you'd be less grumpy."

"I don't think the cheese is my issue." My father is not smiling.

"No, it's not. Your issue is you haven't tried eating with the crackers face down. That's how you get the salt right on your tongue." Prince Noadok helpfully demonstrates for him.

Orion is not impressed.

It's clear that my father's concerns extend far beyond the realm of cheese and crackers.

With his brows furrowed even deeper, Orion turns his attention to the crystal goblet in his hand.

With deliberate care, he swirls the deep red liquid within. The reflection of the candlelight and lanterns dances upon its surface. His fingers grip the stem, knuckles straining against the refined glass.

My father takes a deep breath before looking up from the goblet. "A meal such as this deserves nothing less than an equally refined drink. It would be a grave disservice to this exquisite cheese if we were to forget its pairing."

Prince Noadok leans back in his chair, enjoying the new mischievous tone. "Ah, Orion, now you speak the truth. What did you have in mind?"

"Imported wine," my father says, his voice barely above a whisper. He reaches under his cloak and retrieves an ornately carved bottle filled with a deep honey yellow liquid.

The first swordsman wins. I repeat Prince Noadok's riddle in my head. With the weapon you didn't know he had.

The silver cork glistens and with a pop! a brief wisp of golden sparkles floats out, swirling into intricate patterns before dissipating into nothingness. He delicately pours it into a goblet, the air filling with a new, enchanting aroma. As the first drops of wine touch the surface, its hue shifts, revealing a subtle iridescence that glitters like diamonds. The liquid within mixes, the new luminescence dances like fireflies in the moonlight.

Maybe knowledge is power, because as I stare, I know exactly where my father has imported this wine from.

The Fae Realm.