PRINCE NOADOK LEANS forward, eyes gleaming with anticipation, lit up by the ethereal lights cast on his face. "Your hospitality knows no bounds, Orion."

My father is quite aware of the customs of hospitality. I'm sure this comes from his upbringing, in a palace in the Night Court, I now know.

My father.

Prince Orion of the Night Court.

It still takes some getting used to.

And I suppose, since Orion is still a Prince, I have Royal Fae grandparents out there somewhere, running the Night Court.

They would have been the ones to teach him that every detail within this elegant space is supposed to hold significance. From the size of the delicate porcelain plates to the spacing between sparkling cutlery, each element plays a role in conveying unspoken messages.

Crystal chandeliers hang from poles that illuminate the clearing, casting a shimmering glow upon the golden geometric accents adorning the table cloths. The table themselves are laden with the best culinary delights from all corners of the kingdom: succulent roasted meats, platters of vibrant fruits, and sweet desserts that break even the most resolute dieter.

All because Prince Noadok had requested, and my father, village head, was forced to oblige.

But there are always benefits to hosting.

Because as Prince Noadok said earlier, it is rude to not accept a gift.

So now, he must accept my fathers.

Prince Noadok, being the gracious guest, takes an eager whiff, and excitedly sips. He's not so much as being forced, more than welcome to stop once he has had a glass to sample. The opportunity to try the wine should provide the guest with a way to ease stress and defuse tension. Enough to at least settle aggressions. Orion has no real way to get the Prince to drink Fae wine, other than hoping Noadok really is a Fae who honors customs and formality.

And Prince Noadok is that kind of Fae.

Or so I think at first.

I watch as his expression shifts from polite interest to mild surprise, and then something more akin to mirth. He eagerly lets the wine take it's effect, and it must be stronger than I imagine. It's intoxicating influence paints a rosy tint in his cheeks, and softens the lines of formality that had marked his demeanor, making him look even more cherub like. The imported Fae wine sparkles, casting prism-like reflections across the table as Prince Noadok easily drains his goblet, cheeks flushed. To the surprise of my father and I, he does not need any more prompting. Prince Noadok reaches for the bottle, pouring another, very generous, serving. The wine sloshes in his cup as he stands.

"To peace between Realms." Prince Noadok proclaims, getting the attention of the crowd for a toast. "An' my brother. To Faris."

At the mention of the name, Faris, the pendant strikes hot. Sweat forms along the base of my neck, swept away by a chilling wind. The words hang in the air and Orion's jaw tightens. His fingers twitch around the stem of his own goblet at the mention of the Prince's brother, but my father raises it all the same, mumbling along with the cheering villagers. Prince Noadok drains his cup in one long gulp, then immediately reaches for the bottle again for his third glass.

This is when I realize there is more to this than accepting a custom. This is a part of the Prince's plan. Whatever that plan is, he has yet to tell me, but even as the calculation leaves his eyes, replaced by slow blinks, it's there.

A dangerous glint that brings a frigid bite to my skin. A primal energy about his sporadic gaze, as if he is always searching, on the cusp of pouncing, even in the midst of a seemingly jovial celebration.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The festivities around us continue, oblivious. The musicians strike up a more lively tune, inviting guests to dance, and our table clears except for the Prince, Orion, and me.

Prince Noadok lifts his glass to Orion, grin wide and loose. "A most enjoyable s'prise, Orion," He begins to slur. "Never did I think I'd be s' lucky you'd hav' th's."

Orion's eyes narrow at the drunken prince, his jaw clenched in frustration. Despite his annoyance, my father maintains his composure.

"Indeed. I must say, you seem to be enjoying yourself... immensely, Prince Noadok."

It's a question. What are you doing?

Noadok's laughter rings out, boisterous and uncontained. "An' why not? We're celebratin', aren't we? 'S a joyous occasion!"

Why is he getting drunk? Is this really part of Highness I know everything's plan?

His fourth glass is chugged, and my father nearly stops the Prince from having a fifth, but Noadok insists on finishing the rest of the imported wine. The Prince's movements are less coordinated now, the effects of the Fae wine evident in his loosened limbs and foggy gaze. His dark eyes, unfocused and glassy, dart around the table, sloppier than usual. I shift in my seat as I finish my plate, his behavior becoming increasingly erratic.

One of Great Aunt Elora's friends, Ida, comes up to our table to speak with the Prince, and whatever she says in his ear brings him to his feet in an instant. He offers his arm for stability, and the two walk as fast as the older woman can manage. Ida points a veiny frail finger, leading him to where the crowd has made space for dancing, closer to the musicians.

When they finally have the appropriate room, The Prince brings Ida closer with a sly spin despite his drunken self's increasingly wavering balance. He takes her hand and I watch Prince Noadok nod to his feet. Ida, catches on, and steps forward, placing hers on top of his own. When her other hand finally grips his shoulder, he takes her spinning. Fast enough so she giggles, but not so much so she actually gets dizzy. Only a couple turns, all her weight on his own feet, and then he gently sways her to the strumming and drums.

There's a liberated feel to the Prince's movements. The Fae wine has shed him of the last remnants of the weight of his princely responsibilities.

I'm so focused on Noadok, I'm caught completely off guard when Jovanna spooks me from behind.

"We have to get in there. The Prince is absolutely drunk!" she giggles, her eyes wide with amusement.

I hesitate, glancing at my father. Orion's eyes never leave the drunken Prince.

"Come on, you promised, remember?" She pulls on my arm.

There's a particularly excited whoop! from the crowd as Noadok spins Ida again and Jovanna settles on dragging my chair towards the dance floor.

"Alright, alright!" I agree, allowing Jovanna to finally yank me to my feet.

She grabs my hand tightly to make sure I won't run away.

As we navigate through the sea of moving bodies, I catch glimpses of my father watching from the table, his expression unreadable. He speaks intensely with a village elder, but still, Orion's eyes are locked on Noadok.

There's a crescendo in the song, and Ida gets as much of a dramatic dip as her back will let her, before Noadok continues his usual swaying.

As we approach, Ida's finally released with an exaggerated flourish. She totters away back to Solaris and the rest of Great Aunt Elora's friends, giggling like a little girl.

"Now's our chance!" Jovanna whisper shouts, and I don't have the time to react before she shoves me in the direction of Prince Noadok.

I'm nearly afraid I'll headbutt his chest, but surprisingly, Noadok's still got enough sense to stop the collision. His hands automatically reach out for my hips to steady me, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the haze of Fae alcohol clouding his senses. I can feel the chill of his chest through the fabric of his new attire, barely a contrast to the cool night air brushing against my skin. His half-lidded eyes, dark and unfocused, meet mine for a fleeting moment before a lazy smile tugs.

"Kaia," he breathes, his voice low and husky.

"My friend wants to dance with you." My cheeks flush. It felt childish.

"Your frien'?" His drunken smile grips something deep in my gut.

"Jovanna," I answer, steadying my breathing.

Prince Noadok scans the lively gathering for Jovanna, and a look of bewilderment crosses his face. Jovanna seems to have vanished into thin air.

When I find her-

"See's like your frien' has a tal'nt for disappea'in'," the Prince remarks, the scent of Fae wine wafting from his breath.

"S-she was just he—" I can feel the heat of embarrassment rising in my cheeks as I stumble through my words.

His hand tightens on my hip, pulling me just a fraction closer. I follow the path carved by his sight and see Orion, now standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching us intently.

"Your f'ther's lookin'," His breath fans cool across my face, and the scent of Fae wine rushes over me. Even just a sniff makes me feel dizzy. My head spins, whether from the proximity to the Prince or the secondhand effects of the alcohol, I can't tell. My father's stern expression tells me that he is not pleased with this particular dance partner. "Dance w'th me?"

Despite my instincts screaming at me to step back, I find myself hesitating. And against my better judgment, I begin to nod.

My stomach lurches as I'm pulled even closer to him, and Noadok leads me into a dance.