As Ashara walked through the forest with Eolande, her spirit’s much lighter, she caught a scent in the wind. A meadow, fire licking at the edges, and a sun dappled forest; Puck and Dandelion. She kept walking. I’ll just ignore them. The sound of leaves and twigs crunching underfoot came from her left. She didn't acknowledge it. Ashara gritted her teeth, clenching and unclenching the fabric of her tunic in her hand. Why can’t they leave me be? It isn’t like I could just leave and never return.

"I just had the most interesting talk with your pet." Dandelion breathed into her ear. Ashara shivered. She walked a little faster, the sound of two sets of footsteps following her grating on her nerves. They walked for a little while in silence.

“What exactly did you say to him?” Ashara hissed, narrowing her eyes at her cousin. He responded with a cool smile, lifting his hands in surrender. Dandelion wrapped his arm around her shoulder. I’ll make this up to him later when we’re married.

“I’m sure you have a midsummer reval to be looking forward to, Shar.” Ashara scoffed. With you making ominous sounding threats why shouldn’t I be worried? You know you say things like that just to ruffle my feathers. She shrugged his hand off of her shoulder. The sound of boots scuffing against dirt and foliage echoed dimly as Puck took off, coming to land in front of Ashara. She glared at him, unamused.

“What,” he said, smirking at her.

“You only look like that when you’re planning something or you have something to say. Spit it out.” She said through her teeth. The phuka responded by folding his arms and walking backwards in front of Ashara, Dandelion, and Eolande. His grin seemed to stretch as Ashara’s face tightened with irritation. Puck’s green eyes flicked to Dandelion’s.

“Someone’s Jealous of our princess’s pet.” Puck grinned.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” A small cluster of birds shrieked and flew from their perch in the treetops. Ashara shot her cousin a glance from the corner of her eye. I thought he’d be too confident in himself and too busy with Puck to care about George and I.

“And of course that flock of birds wouldn’t just fly away if your voice hadn’t cracked. You couldn’t be jealous of a mortal!” Puck was practically singing. Eolande cracked a smile. Dandelion gritted his teeth, blowing air out slowly. He growled before launching himself at puck. Not again. I just want to go home and sleep. Although it isn’t often that I Get the opportunity to witness Dandelion eat dirt. Ashara folded her arms and waited, watching the pair scuffle. Eolande stood by her side, hiding her soft laughter behind her hand.

Dandelion had Puck in a headlock and Puck was struggling to get out of it. The fiery haired phuka reached up and flicked the tip of Dandelion’s pointed ear. The brunette let go of Puck, gasping and falling to the ground. Leave it to Puck to play dirty. Sighing Ashara reached down and dragged her cousin up by the elbow.

“Come on. We’ve had enough excitement for today, fluff butt.” Dandelion shrieked again, jerking his arm out of Ashara and Eolande’s grip.

“Don’t call me that!” Dandelion growled. He launched himself into the air, his trisected sage green and gold wings fluttering madly. He’s just upset. The engagement must be getting to him too. Otherwise, he’d normally wait for me to come back. Ashara looked behind her and saw Puck, still grinning. He was walking a little slower now, the fire in his eyes dimmed a bit. She turned her attention to the path ahead of her, slowly being lit with the rosy fingers of dawn.

The trees soon parted to reveal the portal and the tree holding it aloft. The tree glowed, glamour and life pulsing in waves off of it. Ashara raised her foot and stepped in, disappearing into Faerieland, Dandelion, Puck, and Eolande following her.

The forest beyond the castle was silent and still dark as the quartet made their way under the dense canopy of leaves. The light of the nearly full midsummer moon shines between the dark green leaves and branches. Puck shrieks, his laughter cutting the silence like madly jangling bells.

He jumped forward, leaping in the air and tossing a merry “Last one to their chambers before the guards catch us is an unseelie traitor!” Dandelion looked at Ashara and Eolande, grinning. Ashara glared and gave her cousin a mighty shove, scooping Eolande into her arms and taking flight. They broke through the trees, quickly clearing the forest and

When Ashara looked up, she saw Dandelion silhouetted in the nearly full moon, looking down at her and Eolande. He swooped down, arms outstretched. A hand closed around her ankle. She looked back, scowling when she saw her cousin. Ashara bent her other leg into her chest and gave a hard kick upwards and back. Hopefully he won’t forget that in a hurry.

Dandelion’s hand let go of her and he flew into a cluster of thick gold summer berry bushes that dotted the field. Ashara flew onwards, searching for the balcony that opened to her chambers. I never realised that the castle was so tall. It seems a bit smaller from so high up. The four towers, the keep, the outward wall, the round pinnacle and watchtower, the stables and the gardens. Why had I never thought to explore so high during the day? I’ll have to explore before the seven day Ceremonies.

Ashara dipped a bit lower, swooping over the pointed roof of the keep, careful to avoid the banners of house Rollage and Aurelius, flapping in the wind. She avoided looking at them; A hot coil of shame and despair swept through her. A window lit with a still crackling fire, blue walls, and a cream colored rug, and nearly see through curtains fluttering came into view from below Ashara. She dove down, flying into her sitting room and landed on her booted feet before setting Eolande on her feet. It will look better in the morning. It has to. Ashara opened the door to her bed chambers and collapsed on top of the covers, not bothering to take her clothes off.

Ashara opened her eyes and saw the grand hall of the Faerie palace, the marble floors veined with pink and gold, the candle sconces, chandeliers, and candelabras lit with bright, orange flame. She sat on a dark green, gold embroidered, cushion under her Ivory throne behind the high table, watching the brightly colored, jeweled members of the summer court dance and spin. She looked around, trying to take in as much as she could.

Dandelion sat to her right, and Puck on his other side. Dandelion was wearing a forest green doublet with a pattern of fern green leaves that had three points and gold edging around them. Tucked in his nest of mahogany curls was an ancient crown of oak branches and small, dark clusters of fresh elderberries. And, no doubt, circling my brow, is a crown of Rowan branches and the same berries in bright red.

Ashara looked down at her dress. It was in the roman style, pleated from the curve between her shoulder and neck, to the beginning of her shoulder; It swept down to the floor, trailing out behind her with polished sapphires studding the whole dress at imperfect intervals. The thin, honey colored silk came in gathered waves, forming a V shape between her breasts, covering her chest. A lapis lazuli belt, worked into small, inter linking chains a hands width wide wrapped around Ashara’s waist, cinching the dress into eye pleasing pleats. The white, butterfly wing thin silk chemise protected her most intimate parts from prying eyes. It was weighed down by small freshwater pearls and silver embroidery at the hem. The black gladiator slippers on her feet came up to her knees, tying at the back. Tatiana’s handfasting gown…

Ashara looked down at the table. It was white with sparkling cloth of gold edges. The plates on which the ceremonial fish, potato, onion, and carrot pastry with spiced gravy. Next to her plate was a small crystal goblet filled with milk diluted sweet summer wine. The large, oak goblet, carved with symbols of a falling star, a king stag, the Star Sword held by Ashara’s great grandmother, lady Rollage, and the king of the Fae, Redbeard the wise, the first fae. Inside the goblet was the wedding wine, made by the hands of the king and queen themselves, as they were the only ones who knew the recipe or the week long wedding rituals of the royal faeries.

I cannot say I’m excited to be locked in a room every night for eight days with someone I don’t love. Ashara looked at her cousin. His face was stretched in a wide, pointy toothed grin, his cheeks flushed silver and his shoulders shaking with laughter. She looked down at her hands, tucked in the skirts of her dress. He can’t even stand to give me the dignity of a sober wedding night. How delightful. Ashara looked down at the floor of the hall again. The court harpist was playing a merry song about a beautiful blushing bride being stolen by the faeries, his lilting voice reaching over the crowd in the ancestral language of the Fae: Gaelic.

One by one, the candles went out. They flickered, sucking the light from the room, coming to sweep towards the dias. Finally, the only lit candelabra in the hall, the one in the center of the table, went out. Dandelion stood, moving his throne behind him, and took the candelabra, taking Ashara’s hand with the other. She clumsily helped him lift it high in the air. She reached as deep inside her as she was able, pulling what small magic she was able to grasp and shot it through her hand and the candelabra, feeling Dandelion do the same, and into every candle in the hall.

The crowd was still and silent when the hall was lit once more. Ashara clenched her free fist, trying to stop her shivers. She breathed through her nose, staring forward at the crowd. Does praying for this to be a dream make me weak? Ashara tipped her chin upwards slightly, smiling through clenched teeth. Her cousin spoke, his voice echoing in the carnivorous hall.

“We stand before you, two separate branches in a tree that forms the lifeblood of the Land of Faerie! When we return, eight days hence, we will be the king and queen of Summer! We will bring a glorious golden age of light, prosperity, and wealth to our lands!” Dandelion set the candelabra down, leaving Ashara’s arm to fall, limp by her side. He took hold of the wooden goblet, taking a large gulp. He passed it to Ashara. She stared into the cup, watching the dark juices slosh around. Trying not to think of the pungent smell, Ashara drank down to the dregs, juice dripping down her chest and soiling what little bodice there was of her dress and making it see through.

Ashara woke, her face wet with tears and a scream ripping past her lips. Her chest heaved and she looked around, her curls flying. Ashara parted the curtains of her bed and stumbled out onto the marble floors. She flung open the door to her sitting room. I don’t need anymore sleep tonight. Ashara sunk into the thickly cushioned chair in front of the fireplace. She grabbed the fire poker and stirred the embers back to life.

The dawn crept into the room, revealing a princess with matted hair and deep silver bags under her tear glazed eyes.