Wildest Dreams

by Faith Ellis

  "Malor!" My delighted squeal pierces my own ears, but I cannot hide my excitement; I don't want to. My best friend is back in my arms. I feel like a child who lost and found her most treasured stuffed animal.

  "Easy, Annie, I just had these clothes pressed," he teases. "Ah, what the hell."

  As he spins me around, his wings wide, memories flood back into my brain, rushing in and threatening tears to fall. Malor has forever been my best friend. We grew up together. He is the son of my father's chief of knights, his right-hand male. Being the heir to the throne didn't leave much room for socializing out-

  side of my duties, but since the chief was housed in the palace in order to guard my family, Malor stayed there too. His mother died during childbirth, and the same nanny who helped raise me took him on as well, mostly out of fear that a single father wouldn't provide the nourishment a child required, especially since the chief stayed busy. She had clucked disapprovingly at the chief’s attempt to change a diaper much less pro- vide milk for his baby.

  Malor and I are so close in age that it was perfect for friendship. We used to race through the palace to- gether and hide in the gardens, and, as I remembered from earlier, play in the cabin. As I grew older and my duties increased, Malor started training to be my personal guard, learning everything his father knew to ensure the royal heir was protected. I didn't realize Aiden and Malor even knew each other. During the time Aiden and I were courting, Malor was away on a routine scouting mission through the far side of the valley, where the Second Court borders the Forbidden Forest.

  "An, my god," Malor whispers into my hair, disbelief coating his voice. "It really is you." His sturdy, strong arms squeeze tight, threatening to bend my ribs. He smells of honeysuckle, and it reminds me of home. "How I’ve missed you every day since you've been gone." He finally lets go and sets me on my feet. He smooths out his perfectly pressed guard jacket, ever prissy and pristine.

  Aiden begins clearing the dishes. They clink as he stacks them into the porcelain sink. Malor observes Aiden, who remains undisturbed by his presence. I step back from Malor as he tucks those wings back in be- tween his shoulders and crane my neck to look up at him, watching his deep-blue eyes follow Aiden. With a glass in one hand that hovers over the sink, Aiden glances up between Malor and me.

  I address Aiden first. "Wait, how do you two know each other? And how did you know of this place?" I point at Malor, his piercing blue eyes glued to my face, still recovering from the shock of this mess.

  Aiden answers as he sets the glass down. "He helped me build it, of course." He grabs a couple of pieces of dried fruit and waves his free arm around the room. "I knew you'd want your best friend to visit, so I allowed him to know of its existence and contribute to your home."

  The care and precision Aiden has taken strikes a tender chord in my heart. I walk across the tiles to him and plant a kiss on his cheek, causing him to nearly choke on the fruit and nervously clear his throat. He cannot hide the smile tugging at his mouth. As I settle in front of him at the counter, he looks anxious as he puts down the fruit still in his hand. I whispered to- ward him, "Thank you," and a blush crawls up his pale neck.

  He cocks his head, his voice steady. "You're wel- come, darling."

  Malor's boots strike against the floor as he pulls up the chair beside me. "Okay, lovebirds" —he helps him- self to the food—"I have extra food and water as well as training things we might need. I assume we're back to remembering things as they were and caught up on everything that happened in the meantime?" His eyes bounce between Aiden and me, and I shrug to insinu- ate maybe not everything.

  While Malor fists fruit and nuts into his mouth, chewing greedily, I state again, "I still don't understand how you two met. You had never officially met before. When did this happen?" I point a finger between the two males. "You seem quite friendly now."

  Part of me twinges with jealousy. Not because they were friends, of course—the most important males in my life should be. But it does feel as though I have been left out, stuck in the mortal realm, and pathet- ically, I wonder if their bond with each other is now stronger than their bonds with me.

  They watch each other and shake their heads. I catch a sort of brotherly attachment between them. For a while, all that pierces through the quiet are Malor's final chews. Aiden motions for him to explain. He swallows before beginning.

  "It was chaos, An, once everything happened." Malor reaches for the pitcher of water and drinks straight from the spout. "If you recall, the day all of this happened was the evening of your betrothal cer- emony. I was still away for training, but I came that evening to surprise you and, of course, meet the male

  you were always gushing over in your letters." Those blue eyes roll back in exaggeration. My cheeks heat, but I easily recall that day in all of its blissful happi- ness and glory.

  Why was I so nervous? This was exactly what I wanted, what I'd been dreaming of with every rising and setting of the sun. I knew this was right. I could feel it in my core. I never felt surer or more confident in anything else I had done thus far.

  Standing in my chambers, I faced the large, floor- length mirror and studied myself. Bright sunlight shone in through the large windows that surrounded my room, filling the inside with a modest coziness. The large sleigh bed I saw in the mirror was already made. The snow-white comforter was tucked and arranged el- egantly, and the array of gold pillows embroidered with silver were stacked nearly half the length of the mat- tress.

  Looking back at my reflection, I saw my long silver hair was curled and loose, hanging down my back, and a crown of vines and frangipanis sat atop my head with the First Court's insignia of the sun, burning bright, hanging from a short sliver of vine and resting on the top center of my forehead.

  My skin was glowing, the shimmering of my fae skin bright like the night stars. My eyes were clear, and the dress I wore suited me well; I appeared regal and mature. It was a bright yellow, the color of the court and tradition for this specific occasion. It was soft and light, with purple flowers lining the single strap at one

  shoulder and going diagonally to my opposite waist. At the top of the same shoulder, the emblem of the sun was woven into the flowers. It was a perfect, elegant, fitted dress with a long train.

  As I stared at myself, I knew I was ready to take on this day and continue down this path. I loved Aiden. We both fell hard and fast for each other, and now we would finally begin our betrothal.

  Today's event would be massive. All of the First and Second Court members would gather to celebrate our betrothal and toast to the happy marriage that would soon follow. The tradition was that once two royals announced their betrothal, they would be wed on the first full moon following. That was only a short month away. We wouldn't rule the First Court until my fa- ther relinquished his throne, which he said he would do after he trained and guided Aiden and felt comfort- able in his ability to proceed on his own, as he already had trained me and felt comfortable in my own ability. That was fine with us both. We were excited to learn together, to begin and make a difference in our realm.

  I brushed my hands down my dress and took a final look at myself and a big, big breath.

  This is it.

  I couldn't have been more certain. The nervous en- ergy in me was just the anxiety of seeing my betrothed and sharing this announcement with everyone. The bubbly feeling in my stomach wasn't uncertainty of him but uncertainty of how the courts would react, of what Mable truly had planned.

  A soft knock sounded at the door.

  "Enter," I said as the door opened, and my mother crossed the threshold, beautiful and regal in a similar yellow dress with a sheer overlay and a long train. Her hair was gathered at the nape of her neck, and an elab- orate crown of twigs, leaves, and lilies sat atop her head. Her sun emblem was woven into its center, and another sun sat clasped at one of her shoulders.

  Malor, my personal guard, strolled in straight- backed behind her. A smile pulled at my lips. I wanted to rush to him,
to express everything I felt. But he’s on duty, and I was his princess right now, so I refrained. There would be time after the event. He was decked out in his best uniform: tall, polished black boots over breeches, a long black cloak over fitted black leathers, with a breastplate covering his entire chest embla- zoned with the sun insignia. He was outfitted every- where with daggers, and twin swords peeked over his shoulders, situated over his delicate wings.

  "Are you ready, daughter?" my mother asked as Malor shut the door behind him and took up a rigid stance beside it silently. In her presence, he would maintain his position dutifully. In fact, today, in the presence of the Second Court, I knew he would main- tain the position as my guard first and foremost. "You look stunning. Like a queen." She reached for my hands, and we both smiled.

  "I'm so nervous, Mama." I never used the term for my mother. Royalty rarely showed such intimacy be- tween children and parents, at least publicly, for fear of

  it damaging their reputation and making them appear inadequate or too immature to make a proper ruler.

  "The day I married your father—you could not pos- sibly be more nervous than I was." She laughed lightly at the memory. "I was so nervous and jittery, when we performed the toast, I clinked my glass so hard against his"—she raised her hand, mimicking the toast- ing motion—"the delicate glasses shattered and faery wine spewed everywhere." Her laugh bubbled through- out the room contagiously. I giggled as I pictured my confident, sure mother in such a situation. My eyes flicked to Malor, and I knew he was picturing the same by the way his mouth pulled tight.

  "Oh, Mama!" I put my head in my hands. "What if I do that?"

  She shrugged. "We just kept things moving. But know this, darling: your nerves can strengthen you if you allow them; embrace them. You are our daughter, that is no mistake. Andryad, you have been chosen for this path, and you have also chosen it yourself. Your plans for the future of Faery are something your fa- ther and I have not yet been able to complete fully. But with Aiden"—she smiled—"he can help those plans, your plans, succeed."

  For a moment she was quiet, studying me calmly as I looked at my hands, feeling her eyes rove over me. "He loves you. I can see it in the way he looks at you. It is as though you are a lifeline for a withering soul. He questions himself; maybe he is even afraid that deep down, he will be like his mother. The good in you—he

  longs for that, wants to be like that. You will make each other better and complement one another well. His connection to the Second Court can improve all of Faery, something your father and I would never be able to accomplish on our own." My mother let go of my hands and put hers on my shoulders.

  I lifted my eyes to hers

  "The courts are ready." She looked at Malor, and he nodded before her eyes turned back to mine. "Share with the Folk the news of this union, and let them re- joice in the future of our courts and our realm. Come." She took my hands, guiding me to the door, and Malor opened it for us to pass through. "Let us show them our leaders of the future, shall we?"

  "I am ready." I followed my mother out and took an- other big breath before we crossed the threshold and headed out to the gardens to face our guests and my betrothed.

  Guards were everywhere, more than usual. With the courts joined, security was increased in preparation for any outbursts or hidden agendas. After all, we opened our doors to the enemy. Malor stuck closely to my side. So far everyone seemed to be getting along. And by "getting along," I meant that the First Court was stick- ing to their side and their Folk, and vice versa. The event welcomed all fae, high and low. The redcaps and goblins from both courts were dressed fully, though their shirts were brown and tattered, and were seated

  at the far ends of the tables.

  Aristocratic fae and their consorts were seated closer to the head. The Second Court fae were dressed in their furs, heavy gowns of gaudy colors, and thick cloaks. They must have been burning up in the warmth of the First Court. Our Folk wore sheer flowing dresses or billowy pants and shirts in bright and pastel colors. Some of the First Court forest fae—the nymphs, dryads, and elves—were covered in sparse attire made from leaves and branches, near-nakedness showcased for all, but there was no shame in such things among us.

  But there, standing out even among the crowd, was my betrothed. He was dressed splendidly in a well-tai- lored black vest with matching slacks, a long-sleeve red button-down underneath his vest, and a white sash tied from one shoulder to the opposite hip with the infamous M emblem at the top. He was so handsome. A thick fur collar was slung around his neck. His long black hair was tied in a low ponytail running down his back, and his emerald eyes shone bright in the sun of the Summer Garden. They seemed to sparkle even more as they found me, flanked by two more guards in front of me, my mother and father on either side of me, and Malor trailing behind us.

  As we entered, the gardens went completely silent while my parents took their seats at the head of a large table that had been erected for our meal. Once they were seated, Aiden came to my side and offered his arm, which I threaded my own through. We seated our- selves to the right of my parents. Mable was already

  seated at the left of my parents, across from us, and everyone else followed suit at their appropriate places. The tradition was to share a meal before making any type of announcement. Folk were much more at ease with food in their bellies and wine in their blood.

  Aiden and I barely paid attention to those around us or the food passed in front of us. Delicacies of every kind floated down the table, both courts’ tastes taken into account. There was cold cod, smeared with butter, and delicate, colorful gelatins wiggling at each knock of the table. Wines and ale were passed around, and tiny, sugary desserts with layers of puffy cream sat nearby. But we remained focused on each other.

  Aiden fed me a small bite of a buttery chocolate cake with woven sugar drizzled on top in an elaborate design. Our hands entwined underneath the table. Our eyes were bright and laughing. Both of our gazes con- stantly shifted to each other's lips, reddened with wine. I should have minded my parents’ gazes weighing on us heavily or the narrowed stare from the Second Court queen sneering across the table, her lips curled as though she held a treacherous secret, but I was far too enthralled in my betrothed beside me. Wine gob- lets were refilled before both my father and mother stood at the head of the table, calling everyone's atten- tion.

  My father's voice boomed across the gardens, and the Folk immediately quieted. "Friends, neighbors, soon-to-be-allies—" The Second Court aristocrats practically bared their teeth and hardly restrained their

  growls. Malor firmly placed himself closer at my back. "We are gathered today for a very special moment, one to mark Faery history. Let this day mark the betrothal between First and Second royalty. The Second Court heir, son of Queen Mable, and the First Court heir, daughter of ours, make public their betrothal. They are to be wed on the next full moon. When both courts unite, this marriage will ally our Folk, and our wars will be put to an end. Let us celebrate this happy union with our blessing and that of Queen Mable."

  My father raised his glass, and I caught the shine in his eyes and the tear on my mother's cheek. But every- one else was not quite as overcome with happiness. As I lifted my glass to my lips and looked at the Folk from both courts, I saw concern was written on many First Court members, and hatred and distaste were clear on many of the Second Court aristocrats.

  Mable, however, was still smiling. Her dark red lip- stick reminded me of blood, and it was eerie. Even in the warm Summer Garden, with her smile and stare set firmly upon me, those dark eyes raised the hairs on my arms and sent chills skittering down my spine. Her head tilted to one side, dark waves cascading over her shoulder. She raised her glass to me, and for a moment, her eyes turned completely black but returned to nor- mal so fast, I was sure I was being paranoid.

  Why she was for this betrothal and wanted any part of mine and Aiden’s love or of First Court affilia- tions, I wasn't sure. Aiden wrapped an arm around my waist and pull
ed me closer, dragging my attention from

  Mable to him, causing my unease and concern to van- ish in an instant. This male gazing down at me held nothing but an overwhelming love in his eyes. When I turned back to Mable, her face showed nonchalance as she sipped her wine.

  "I have a present for my beloved, if I may, Erlking," Aiden addressed my father.

  At my father's inclined nod, Aiden pushed back from the table and stood. Malor came to move out his chair farther. Aiden knelt at my side and held out a small cylinder of ice with a stone in the center made of opal. It shone in a rainbow of colors. "An, I present you with this stone in exchange for my loyalty and faithful- ness to you. Will you wear it until I return to the earth as dust?"

  His eyes held mine and twinkled with happiness and hope for the future.

  "Absolutely, Aiden, it is beautiful." I leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

  He pulled the stone from its bed of ice. Betrothal stones are not common among Fae, as they typically represent a promise between the couple, and most Fae do not enjoy being held to promises since they cannot break their word. To make a promise is a true sign of trust and love. The stone was inserted through the skin at the hollow of my neck, where it anchored itself with the sealed promise, pinching and piercing my flesh, but I stood firmly against it. I turned to the rest of the Folk for them to see. Scattered claps ring down the table, some enthusiastic but many obligated.