by Carli Castle
Maybe it was all about the girl he’d found, or maybe it was much more than that. There was no way to know for sure unless he told her, because she would definitely not intrude again. She’d vowed that she would never intrude when she’d begun to manifest her power, and she would keep it and respect it. Still, she was pretty sure Lucas Ferrin’s unhappiness stemmed from more than just what had happened to the young fairy, and she would find out what that was. She had a deep rooted need to make people feel better, and she would help him without using empathy. She would be a friend. Heavens knew she needed one of those, too.
The most annoying part was the fact that he was being manipulated by Aiessa and had no idea. It was just like her sister to pull something like that. Elle never understood Aiessa’s need to use pheromones on poor, unsuspecting men. It wasn’t like she didn’t get enough attention as it was. Aiessa was the most desired of all the young women in all the islands, according to magazines and news articles.
It was the quintessential cliché: every woman wanted to be her, and every man wanted her by his side.
However, just as Elle didn’t use her empathy powers on others without their consent, she expected others to offer the same courtesy. It was only fair. But Aiessa didn’t care about that kind of thing. She liked attention far too much.
Thinking of all that, Elle felt another twinge of guilt at having taken advantage of Lucas’s vulnerability before.
You could say Eleanore Saye Parker Dahl was not your typical princess. She wasn’t solely interested in balls, shimmering dresses, and glass slippers. She didn’t spend hours primping for other’s attention, and when she did her makeup, she did it for herself. If she got attention for it that was fine, she welcomed it, but it wasn’t the reason why she did it. She kept her brown hair long because it was easy to manage that way, and it was shiny and wavy most of the time.
What she truly loved was the healing arts. She loved learning everything she could about it, practicing every time she could, getting better and better at it. She was, theoretically, well versed in it. She lacked experience healing by touch, but that would change soon. She knew it.
The worst part about her love for healing was her parents’ adamant opposition to her pursuing a long term career in it. Then again, her parents rarely liked anything she did. Isabel, her mother, was a difficult woman to please, mainly because she had such old fashioned views on propriety that she refused to listen to anything outside of that. It was frustrating, but Elle had gotten used to it. She had learned to navigate around her mother.
Then there was her father, the mighty King Patrick. His main concern for his three daughters was that they marry a prince and start having heirs. He had his ideas of what he needed from them, and expected that they would follow suit, no matter what they truly wanted.
Elle couldn’t really say she liked that part of her father, though she did love him. He was a good king, and he was fair to his subjects, just not to his daughters.
He wasn’t cruel in any way, as far as Elle had been able to witness, but she never really had the time to interact with him, or enjoy getting to know him. He was always gone, working all day around the realm. He met new people, made friends, gave everyone his undivided attention.
Inside the palace walls, he was not that person, however. There were good days when Elle could see the man she remembered from when she was a little girl, and then there were the days when he was unyielding, strict, and more than a little difficult.
It was odd how he changed. It was like her father had two different faces and had no control over them at all. One day, he thought it was nice she wanted to study healing, the next, he would be opposed to her ever lifting a finger other than to twirl her hair and find herself a nice prince to marry.
She wanted to work, even when she didn’t need to. She had a talent and she wanted to explore it, use it to help as many people as she could, no matter who didn’t approve of it.
Her mother, on the other hand, was never directly disapproving. She used subtle words here and there to, in her words, make them see the error of their ways. Many times, her mother had tried to make Elle think of her empathic powers as if they were something negative and dirty, because even though having empathy could be wonderful, Elle did feel more than others did, and if she wasn’t careful, it could become overwhelming.
When she had come into her empathic powers, Elle had an extremely difficult time controlling it, taking in other people’s pain, their sorrow, grief, happiness, and anger within herself, as if they were her own. It had been a terrible season, training her mind for it. But when that control came, she’d known true relief.
It especially helped when she escaped to the healing house for nightly shifts as an assistant healer. Those nights when she got to tend to patients were some of the best of her life. Nothing could compare to that feeling of fulfillment that came each time someone walked out of the healing house free of pain, cured of their ailment, all because she knew what to do to help. She was just a healing assistant, but she was proud to say she knew pretty much everything she needed to know in that role.
No one in the palace knew of her nightly escapades, not even Harper, who was not only her sister, but also her best friend. Harper was a rule follower, straight and narrow path and all that, and as supportive as she was, she would never approve of Elle leaving the palace after hours alone.
After watching Lucas and President Sillen teleport, she made her way back into the palace, swiftly hurrying upstairs, avoiding all the places her mother could be. She didn’t want to have to socialize before dinner; her mother was not very pleasant to sit down and talk to. She was far too strict in her views, unwilling to bend even a little bit and it got frustrating quickly.
Practically running down the wide, well-lit hall, she turned into her wing and scurried into her bedroom. The spectacular view of the ocean in the distance greeted her through tall windows, and through the double doors that led to her balcony. She loved her view, she loved the ocean—the smells, the sounds, the wildness of it. She only wished she was closer so she could hear it when she went to bed at night.
As she stood at the window, she looked toward the glittering waters as the waves crashed against the tall cliff to the southeast of the palace. It was a solitary place, that cliff, rocky and imposing. There was a house there, almost in the middle of it, and she wondered who could live there. Why someone would choose a place so far away from human contact was beyond her. It seemed so lonely up there, and she would much rather be around people. What if the person that lived there ever got depressed, walked outside and wandered, reveling in their unhappiness… they were already on a cliff… it could be catastrophic.
“That’s a grim view on life,” she told herself as she began to undress. As she made her way to the shower, she wondered who lived there. Maybe a newlywed couple, looking for solitude to start their new lives together. Or an old man, ravaged with age, grumpy and sad.
As she stood under the warm spray of the showerhead, she reminded herself to be grateful for something that day. It was a ritual for her to count her blessings instead of focusing on negativity. There was plenty around her already and she didn’t want to add to it.
She decided she was grateful for showers. In the old days, before Esmeralda began to adopt sleeper realm customs, they bathed in rivers, or had buckets of water carried to their rooms for daily hygiene. It was way before Elle had even been born. She could only imagine what kind of life that was to the poor servants, having to lug around bucket after bucket. Maybe it would have been a lot easier if they could teleport within the palace walls, but per the law—and the charms placed on homes and buildings—no one could teleport inside houses, or official buildings and businesses. It was for protection purposes. You didn’t want an enemy just dropping by in the middle of the night and cutting open your throat. It had actually happened, which was why charms were placed. To be able to teleport inside buildings, you would have to have magical clearance, and servants wouldn�
�t have had them back then.
Elle thought that having someone draw your bath for you was just wrong anyway. Personal hygiene was just that, personal. So when the council had agreed to adopt having pipes with running water, things had taken a turn for the better in Esmeralda.
Her mind went back to Lucas as she started shampooing her hair. How long had she known him? Almost two years, she thought, but never had she been able to talk to him more than to say hello here and there.
And the way he’d complimented her eyes was something she would never forget. Most said she had beautiful eyes, but he’d gone beyond that. It made something flutter deep in her stomach.
And it really didn’t hurt he was so good looking. Talk about beautiful eyes—his were intense. It was like staring straight into the sea in the middle of summer. And the way he’d treated her like an equal, well, that was the best part.
He’d nearly ruined it at first by bowing to her. Boy, she hated that. If she ever became queen, she would abolish the damn thing. Not that she was likely to become queen, she thought, as she finished her shower and prepared for dinner, and she was glad she didn’t have to.
She chose to wear a yellow dress that reached just above her knees. It had a form fitting bodice and flared out at the hips. She left her hair down, like her mother always wanted her to, and even when she hated having it in her face, she parted it to the side and hooked it behind her ear, letting the sweep of it fall over her forehead. As she sat at the tiny vanity, she was careful not to overdo it with the makeup. Her mother would immediately think something else was going on since Elle didn’t normally do her makeup for dinner with their family. She reserved primping for special occasions, or when she had nothing to do and wanted to try something new, or for parties.
She made her way down the sweeping, double staircase to the dining area, where her family would be waiting for her to start dinner. She was pleased to see she was the last one to get there. It was the one rebellious thing she could do for her family to see, and she basked in it.
Her mother was positively glowering, her beautiful face taut.
“Finally,” Aiessa said under her breath. Elle ignored her.
“Good evening.” She took her seat next to Harper. Her father was at the head of the table as always.
“Good evening, dear.” Her father smiled at her and she had to smile back. It looked like this was one of her father’s good days, though why it would be a good day was beyond Elle, after what happened with that poor girl. “You look beautiful this evening.”
“Thank you, father.” She felt the heat rise on her face. It wasn’t often she heard those kinds of things from him. Not that he’d ever been mean about her looks, he just never said anything about them at all.
“Next time try being down here on time,” Mother said in a quiet voice from across the table.
“I will try.” Elle ignored the urge to get up and leave out of pure rebelliousness.
“It’s not like we haven’t heard that before,” Aiessa said.
“Also, not like it’s any of your business.” Elle smiled sweetly at Aiessa, who smirked at her. Elle turned her attention to Harper, who hated confrontation and was quietly looking down at her lap.
When dinner appeared on the table in front of them, they began to eat in blissful silence. And blissful it was.
Elle was reminded how infinitely grateful for cooks she was, because she could burn boiling water. Maybe someday she would learn to cook, but right now she was just going to enjoy the deliciousness that had been prepared and presented in an exquisite manner for them.
“How has your day been, father,” Harper asked when they were done with dinner. The desserts appeared in front of them, and Elle busied herself with it.
“Quite long,” Father responded. “I know you’ve probably heard about it.”
“I have, yes,” Harper said. “The council will have a meeting to talk about it soon.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t hear about this at the dinner table,” Aiessa suggested.
“Maybe we should just stop talking about it altogether,” Mother said with a small smile. “How about we talk about more pleasant things?”
“Like what,” Elle asked, somehow knowing what her mother’s topic would be.
“Like your birthday, my darling.”
Elle wanted to cringe at the way her mother called her ‘darling’, but she didn’t, at least not visibly.
“My birthday is not for another two and a half months.” She really hoped her mother would just drop the subject. She could deal with helping plan a birthday party she didn’t want two weeks prior. If she had to do it for two whole months, she wasn’t sure she would be sane by the end of it.
“There’s a lot to plan, dear. There’s the dress, food, decorations, invitations.”
“Don’t forget the parade of princes dying for her hand in marriage.” Aiessa took a bite of her custard, but not before she flashed Elle a wide smile.
“Well, then, at least if one shows up it won’t be because of my pheromone powers,” Elle retorted, taking a bite while looking straight at Aiessa, whose ears turned bright pink.
“Girls, please,” Father said. “Let’s keep the conversation light. There’s no need to fight about it. Ellie, you’re turning eighteen, that doesn’t happen every day.”
“Neither do any of the other birthdays in a girl’s life,” Elle pointed out.
“Yes, but eighteen is a special birthday,” Mother said.
“Why, because I get to make my own decisions,” Elle asked her mother, trying for the most innocent expression she could muster.
No one replied, and Elle felt satisfied as she continued eating her dessert, which was delicious. Magdalene, Elle’s favorite cook, surely would have made this one. It was heavenly.
When her mother began talking about the party again, she nodded along, pretending to listen. Harper, on the other hand, was listening intently, interacting politely.
Elle had no idea how her sister did that.
Harper was a pretty young woman, in a quiet sort of way. She had light brown hair that was always styled just right, not a hair out of place, and she never wore it all the way down. Her clothes were always modest, fit the perfect way. They were also always tan, brown, pink, or white.
Honestly, Elle found it extremely boring, but Harper seemed to like it, so who was she to judge.
“I was thinking of having floral arrangements on each dinner table. There has to be dinner of course,” her mother continued, and Elle resisted an urge to roll her eyes. “We can instruct guests to dress in pastels, just for a better aesthetic in photographs.”
That was just not going to do. She set down her fork. “I’m going to have to veto that.”
“Excuse me?” Her mother’s eyes were wide in surprise, like she had not expected for Elle to intervene in her plans.
“I’m vetoing anything pastel, and pink of any shade.”
“But pastels are nice and muted, just the right thing for you to shine. Photos come out the best that way,” Mother said in her perfectly reasonable voice. “And pink, well…”
“It’s my party,” Elle interrupted. “You wanted me to be involved, well now I am. I don’t want pastels and I definitely do not want pink.”
“Then, what do you suggest,” her mother asked, but she did not look like she wanted to hear the answer to it.
Elle pursed her lips, took a sip of her water, and set down the glass. “I want a black and white ball.”
“Black and white?” Mother wrinkled her small nose in distaste. “It’s not a funeral.”
“It kind of is,” Elle responded, loving the reaction she was getting. “The death of my childhood.”
“Oh dear, that is positively ghastly,” Mother gasped.
“That’s Eleanore for you,” Aiessa said cheerfully. Even she looked like she liked the idea.
“Can’t I convince you to do things just a little differently,” Mother asked, eyes shining.
Elle
sighed inwardly, thinking hard. She could let her mother take over and plan something where she would be bored out of her mind, or she could actually have fun for once.
“Fine, not just black and white. You want me to be the center of attention, I will wear green.”
“What?” Her mother’s smile slipped and turned into a grimace. Aiessa choked as a laugh erupted at the exact moment she took a bite of her desert, and mother threw her a pointed look before she turned back to Elle. “Are you insane?”
“I will wear green,” Elle repeated. “I love the color, and you want me to stand out.”
“I like green,” Father said and she had to look at him. He was smiling just a little, and Elle found herself wanting to smile too. Harper was shifting uncomfortably on her chair.
“See? I have father behind me on this one.” Elle did smile at her mother, who had a resigned look on her face.
“Green,” she murmured, her face set like she’d tasted a particularly sour berry. “If that’s what you want, dear.”
“It is.” Elle batted her lashes. Her mother opened her mouth to talk, but Elle didn’t let her begin. Instead, she said, “And for the centerpieces, I want an arrangement of flowers of every color possible.”
“Not matching white flowers?” Her mother looked baffled.
“Nope. I want hibiscus arrangements.”
“Hibiscus,” Harper asked, looking quite confused.
“Yes,” Elle said, her smile widening. “They grow in tropical islands in the sleeper realm. I want every color you can find.”
“And how do you suppose we do that,” Mother asked.
“Well, I assume someone will have to go to the sleeper realm for them,” Father input and her mother turned to look at him sharply. He shrugged.
“It’s against the law to go to the sleeper realm unless it is for official council business,” Harper said like she was quoting from a textbook.
“I’m pretty sure someone can make an exception for my very special birthday.” She looked at her father, innocently. “We do have members of the council that live there, don’t we?”
