Wildest Dreams

by Faith Ellis

  Granted, I was too young to marry, and my father did not plan on relinquishing his throne anytime soon. But the thoughts of having a partner, someone to care about me and to care for in return—that made me smile. The idea of a husband who was strong and kind was important to me. I saw the way my father looked at my mother, and my heart ached for someone to look at me in a similar manner. I wanted love, real love.

  The maids finished and stood back to admire their handiwork, a smile lighting each of their crinkled faces. A light tap sounded at my door, and one of the females scurried to open it, revealing my mother, her silver-blonde hair hanging in ringlets down her back. She was beautiful and regal, as always. The way she strode across the threshold, one might wonder if she simply floated on air.

  "I would like a moment with my daughter," she said kindly, but her voice rich with authority. She motioned me over to the creamy chaise lounge on the far side of my room and sat down on one end while I poised my- self on the arm of the fluffy peach-colored armchair across from her. She smoothed out her gown and laid one petite hand atop the other in her lap. For a mo- ment, she studied me, a slight smile playing on her small lips.

  "You are so beautiful," she said quietly, causing my eyes to find hers. "And so grown. I cannot believe how quickly you have matured. You know, it has always amazed me how immortals race through childhood but can live for an eternity—another reminder of how deli- cate childhood truly is."

  I rolled my eyes. "Mother, are you getting sentimen- tal?"

  She smiled fully this time, her white teeth showing prominently. The sun shining in through the window to her side cast a beautiful, angelic glow onto her hair, making it look like a pale gold river. "It is an important moment. It deserves some sentimentality, don't you agree?"

  I cocked my head in response and folded my arms across my flat chest, snorting in the most unladylike manner.

  My mother straightened a little more before she continued. "An, do not feel forced into something you don't want to do." Her honey-sweet voice was tender. "We are not like the courts before us or the Second

  Court. And we do not require a unity between the First and Second Courts. We have always been at ends, and so long as Mable holds her throne, I fear we always will be. I doubt even a unity could solve that."

  I dropped my arms and scooted off the chair to move beside my regal mother on the lounge. Mother had always been strong, beautiful, and kind but firm. She ruled by my father's side as his equal and voiced her opinions when a decision needed to be made. Fa- ther was the one who shared the rules and laws pub- licly, but they were approved and agreed upon by this female. She loved her people and her family, and they all returned her feelings. When I had been a child, my mother soothed my tears and fears, but she also taught me to be independent and fair through equality by putting an end to discrimination among the fae species.

  "Mother," I started, looking into her eyes, "I don't feel forced. And I know that if this isn't what I want, at any point, I can say so. I want to do this." I grinned, and she took my hands. "I want to try. Maybe a union won't change Mable's rule, but it could be a symbol to those within her court as well as our own. Besides"—heat floods my cheeks—"last time I saw the prince, he ap- peared to be growing quite handsomely. I must have a look."

  We both broke out in a fit of girlish giggles.

  My mother took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "Very well, my brave daughter. But be cautious." She gave my hands a light squeeze. "We do not know the

  young prince as well as we'd like, but we all know what his mother is." Her face lost all the joy from our laugh- ter. "It is no secret there. Guards will be with you; Malor is outside, waiting." My personal guard and best friend always made me feel safe. "And if you ever feel uncomfortable, you can walk away or call on them. Your father and I will be nearby as well."

  I nodded my understanding and mustered a small smile to alleviate any reservations she might feel about letting me go through with this.

  "Andryad, there are plenty of other viable suitors if this is not the one. We aren't sure of Queen Mable's plan, but we can be certain that it is not for her son to find true love."

  I mulled over my mother's words. She released my hands, and I folded them into the fabric of my dress to hide any trembling or worries. Unfortunately, Queen Mable of the Second Court was known to be ruthless, even heartless. Her powers were strong, and that made her vain and hungry, leaving her ever wanting of more and more. But few had more than briefly encountered the young prince Aiden, her only son. There was no king of the Second Court. No one knew who fathered Aiden, and no one seemed to care. Knowing Mable, she couldn't allow the possibility for anyone to even minutely threaten her throne, not even the father of her only child. So what made Aiden different and al- lowed for his safety in her hands?

  "I'll be careful." I shrugged. "Who knows, maybe this is the start of what you and father have, or maybe it's

  just practice." A senselessness, like that of the com- mon teenage fae girls when they get giddy and girlish, overtook me. But my mother caressed my face in her hands and stared into my eyes. The same blue pair of eyes as mine bore into my heart and soul.

  "I pray to Mother Nature that you do have what your father and I have someday. I want you to expe- rience that happiness." I put my hands over hers and squeezed as she planted a warm kiss on my cheek and rose. She drifted over the threshold and out of the room, leaving her notorious lavender scent clinging to the air around me.

  I stood and looked out the window. The sun was golden and warming the gardens below. Everything was colorful and vibrant, like the world knew true hap- piness and couldn’t wait to share it with everyone. My mother's warnings played through my mind, and I raised internal walls, preparing for the worst. What if the queen was up to something devious? What if her son planned to kill me on the spot today? It wouldn't be unheard of, coming from the Second Court. I sighed; my breath created a light fog circle on the window. As it shrunk smaller and smaller, a dark figure appeared below, surrounded by tall soldiers. I watched, trying to get a better look, but I was too high up. My breath- ing came quicker, and the hair on my scalp itched as it stood on end.

  A maid knocked on my door and entered upon my command. She was a young, slim pixie with delicate wings and bright pink hair. Dropping into a low curtsy,

  she announced, "He's here, Your Highness. Prince Aiden has arrived." I smoothed my snug dress. Lifting my chin, I threw my shoulders back and moved toward the hall.

  Outside, there were six guards, including Malor, my personal guard. Two walked ahead of me, both with blond waves, but one’s hung long while the other’s was cut shorter. Two were at my side, Malor and a dusty brunet. And two brought up the rear. Malor cut his eyes, looking over to gauge my reaction and make sure I was okay, but I kept my gaze forward.

  I knew even more guards lined the walls outside and stood by in the garden where I would meet and walk with the prince. The garden was considered neutral territory. It was within the palace walls—a sign of wel- come and peace—but not within the palace, our per- sonal, private space. At the moment, we regarded the prince as an intruder. A possible threat. Until further notice, that was how we were to interact and view him. The guards escorted me through the palace halls lined with paintings of my ancestors, heirlooms that sat among various sizes of pedestals, and other pre- cious mementos and history that decorated floating shelves. Our palace was grand and elegant, lit with the sun bleeding in through the many tall windows, bouncing off the shiny golden floors. It was also homey in specific rooms, such as my parents’ quarters, their

  private home.

  The guards took me out a back entrance that led to the largest of the palace gardens. The First Seasons

  Court had two of four seasons: spring and summer. Throughout the court and realm, you could experience both. Some sectors carried the cooler breezes of spring with periods of showers, while other areas remained dry and warm, even hot.

  The palace itself h
ad two separate gardens, one with spring plants and one with summer. They were enchanted by sprites who adjusted the weather within the gardens accordingly and maintained the grounds. Of those two, the Summer Garden was the largest, with geraniums, petunias, and mandevillas. In the middle of the Summer Garden sat a large fountain so big that it housed a few kelpies and water sprites who migrated there due to exile or other unfortunate events and chaos in their homes in the ocean. Water fae were un- der their own court with their own rulers. Neither the First nor Second Courts held any law over them unless they crossed our borders. The First Court welcomed exiled Water fae so long as they remained peaceful.

  We entered the Summer Garden under the archway of entwined branches laced with honeysuckle that perfumed the air around us in a sweet, sticky scent. My shoes tapped against the gray cobblestones. The breeze was warm against my skin. Though my dress was fitted, the fabric was thin, light chiffon, allowing the breeze to cool me.

  A few feet in front of me stood a tall, lean figure with his back to me flanked by two First Court guards and two of his own Second Court guards, who were both massive males. They were dressed in expensive-

  looking black leathers with sashes from one shoulder to the opposite hip.

  The lean figure still stood with his back turned. His hands were clasped at his lower back, and his black hair fell to his shoulders in thick waves. He was also dressed completely in black, with a similar sash wrapped around one shoulder before clasping at the opposite hip. Whereas his guards had black sashes, his sash was red, and I could already imagine the initial M at the top over the heart. Mable's none-too-subtle symbol for the Second Seasons Court.

  While the First Court had spring and summer, the Second Court was cold, usually freezing. It was said that the Second Court had two seasons, fall and win- ter, but all the court experienced was a brutally cold winter. Everything was frozen and covered in ice. Mable had ice giants, jotunns, who trolled the breadth of the Second Court, keeping everything an icy waste- land. Even the buildings and homes were covered in a light frost from the inside out. Or so I was told. My par- ents had yet to let me attend an event at the Second Court, so I had never seen any of this for myself.

  As my guards and I drew nearer, the young prince fi- nally turned to face me, and my heart skipped a little. He was dark and handsome, with striking eyes so deep and green that the only way to do them justice was to describe them as emeralds. His face was soft and kind, and he smiled when he saw me. He had a strong jaw, a straight nose, and lush lashes framing those striking eyes. He bent at the waist into a deep bow until I stood

  in front of him and offered him my hand. He took it, brushing his full lips lightly atop my knuckles, sending a jolt through my veins at the warmth of his lips. My toes curled in my shoes.

  When he spoke, his voice was deep and rich for one so young. "So nice to finally meet you, Princess Andryad. Shall we take a walk around your lovely gar- dens, Your Highness?" He released my hand, straight- ening, and offered me his arm through which I threaded my own and placed my hand at the crook of his elbow.

  A delicate chill seeped off him, yet his arm beneath mine was warm and solid. I dipped my head in an at- tempt to hide the blush rising to my cheeks as he led the way, all ten guards in tow.

  We walked along the cobblestone path for a while, the sounds of our shoes hitting the pavement, no words uttered between us. I noted that the silence was comfortable, natural. There was no urge to fill the space with small talk.

  I stole glances at him out of the corner of my eye, but I waited for him to speak first. Meanwhile, I en- joyed the solidity of his arm under my hand and the smell of him—a soft smoke scent with pine, as if he had been sitting by a campfire in the forest. It was rich and earthy and tingled my senses, overpowering the scents of the garden. The sun brightened up the grounds around us and heated my face in its glow.

  A few times when I looked over at him, through my lowered lashes, I caught his eyes on me. When he no-

  ticed I caught him, he didn’t look away but smiled this boyish smile, a little crooked. He cocked his head as if challenging me to call him out on his brash stare. He knew if I called him out, I'd have to admit my own guilt for looking at him too.

  We came to a secluded area in the Summer Garden lined with tall bushes blooming with tiny pink buds. In the middle of the luscious grass lay a large red blanket with pink and white pillows strewn on top. There was an array of refreshments: faery wine, decadent-looking fruits rolled in sugar, and custard-filled desserts. Two brownie maids stood to the side, their heads bowed, awaiting further orders. The scent of freshly baked bread with lemon and ripe strawberries wafted toward me, and I prayed my stomach didn’t growl in response.

  As we approached, Aiden extended his other arm to the setup. "This is such a beautiful display." He crooked an eyebrow. "Better to be prepared, I suppose." A grin played upon his lips. "Shall we, princess?"

  Nonchalantly, I replied, "Of course Your Highness. You'll find the First Court always welcomes our guests with the very best we have to offer. We're a very gener- ous Folk."

  We broke our link, and my hand felt a coldness that was highly unusual in the warm summer sun. We set- tled across from each other on the blanket, my feet tucked slightly under me. The guards lined up around us, fanning out in an orderly fashion, stoic and still as statues but at attention nonetheless. Malor stood suf-

  focatingly close, and I glared at him. He ignored me, staring ahead.

  Aiden offered me a glass of cool faery wine, the near-black liquid smelling of blackberries and sticky sap. I took it along with a small branch of faery grapes, their plump round bodies full to bursting and nearly the size of plums. The first sip of the wine made my head light and eyelids heavy. As Aiden sipped his own, he observed, "This is rich. It's probably some of the best faery wine I've tasted."

  "Mmm, yes, we grow the blackberries in the Sum- mer Sector and make them into wine here in court."

  I sat uncomfortably but properly and began to feel a bit ill at ease. I ached to stretch out and lean back on my elbows, but that was far too casual, and Mother would’ve had a fit if she saw me. Aiden, on the other hand, made himself right at home, propping up on one elbow and stretching out his long legs in front of him.

  The breeze tousled the leaves as we dined. The maids darted back and forth, clearing dishes, refilling when necessary, and otherwise staying near invisi- ble. A fuzzy brown rabbit hopped out from under one of the bushes. He uprooted blades of grass, his nose twitching as he maneuvered them into his tiny mouth. "I love it here. The sun, the warmth, the brightness

  of it all. Not like the Second Court," Aiden said, break- ing the silence as he plunked another grape into his mouth, lips darkened from the wine.

  I followed his movements but made no remark.

  He noticed my stare and sat up straighter. "I apolo- gize. Did I say something to offend you?" He leaned in, closing the vast but proper distance between us. Malor took a step nearer to my side, and I shot him daggers, but he didn’t fall back.

  "What? No, of course not," I said, a little startled by the question. I leaned back to put more space between us. Did he really care what I thought?

  "You're staring." His lips curved as he once again leaned back on his elbows, allowing me room to breathe.

  A smile tugged at my mouth. "How rude of me. I should be the one apologizing." I brushed my hands to- gether, ridding them of sticky residue from the fruit. "You're just so…" I searched for the appropriate word. "Calm."

  Aiden took another large round grape. He chewed and swallowed before he replied, "I feel comfortable here." He glanced at me. "With you."

  I studied him, and my eyes squinted with concen- tration.

  "What?"

  "Okay, Aiden," I said, dropping his title and all form of manners. Mother would’ve had a field day if she knew! "Why are you vying for a wife?" My suspicions were growing at his all-too-calm demeanor. His eyes, their collectiveness and caring—there was a pull
to him, and it scared me, because it could all be a trick.

  I lowered my voice. "I know the Second Court doesn't require anything, much less an alliance. So I'm

  curious as to what has your mother interested in an al- liance." I eyed him, searching for anything to give him away.

  Aiden watched me without judgment or offense. He truly looked unconcerned and a bit confused him- self. "Honestly," he started, laughing lightly, "I was just as startled as you probably were when she suggested it. I never thought this arrangement would occur or bene- fit her in any way, but"—he threw up one hand—"here we are. I can't say I'm displeased." He smiled this time, a wide smile showing perfectly straight white teeth.

  I narrowed my eyes, urging myself to be immune to his charm and to fight the rising heat filling my cheeks. He finally dropped his smile and exhaled a long sigh. "Andryad, I don't know. Queen Mable doesn't ex- actly share her plans with me." His voice took on a hard edge. "The queen never does anything without a

  purpose."

  I waited while he finished the last sip of wine in his glass.

  "That being said, I wanted to meet you." His eyes brightened and his tone lightened. "I've heard about the kind princess of the First Court who cares about her Folk and is more beautiful than the golden curtain the sun spreads across your land."