When he woke, laying on his stomach and the side of his face pressed against a pillow, Dandelion’s mouth tasted like it was filled with linen. His back hurt less. He opened his eyes, surprised to see his father’s stern face and Arthur’s worried one above him.

“What’s going on? Where’s the lion?” Dandelion looked around, feeling his gut clench with fear.

Arthur held out a small goblet, his hand trembling. Dandelion felt a sharp spike of rage tear it’s way through him. He reached out and slapped the goblet out of Arthur’s hands, a scowl tearing his face. The goblet shattered as it hit the floor, making Arthur flinch

“Where is my Omen?” He growled. King Oberon placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. Dandelion looked towards his father, his lips in a line.

“You stopped fighting. That was the challenge, my son. Fighting your Omen is as fruitless as the Goddess fighting the horned God.”

“But why didn’t at least you tell me, father?” The king sighed. “The same reason that neither you, nor Ashara have been told about the intimate details of the Ceremonies of your Handfasting. It is a secret that has been passed down from king to king. I will tell you more after your Handfasting..”

Dandelion nodded, feeling dejected and a bit foolish. I should know better. The secrets of the Seven Day Ceremonies are meant to be kept a secret except to those who participate in them. They are sacred for a reason. Though it would be nice is more was revealed to me than the names; The Hunt, The Gail, The Burning, The Shiver, The Blessing, the Handfasting, and The Binding.

“Of coarse, father,” Dandelion smiled, stamping down on the nausea that roiled in his gut. The king smiled.

“My prince, a light evening meal has been prepared.” Dandelion winced as he got out of bed. My Omen marks! He turned to his father, his eyes alight and a wide grin on his face. The king patted him on the back, smiling back and nodding. Dandelion jumped. A spasam of pain made him hiss.

After the pain had stopped for a bit, a spark of excitement made Dandelion grin. At least I’ll have my-

“Father, where are my Comharran?” Dandelion looked down at his arms, seeing nothing but a pale canvas of flesh. He tossed aside his bedcovers and searched his legs; Nothing. Dandelion looked at his father. Oberon returned a nonchalant smile. He patted his son’s shoulder. “They will come after you’ve proved yourself worthy.” Dandelion nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. How had I not proved myself worthy battlling and loosing to my Omen?

Dandelion smiled his way through the hot lightening bolt of pain that seared his back. His stomach growled. Oberon laughed.

“Get my son some food; He’ll need it for The Hunt in a few hours.” Arthur brought a tray with a few slices of ham, a cluster of grapes, and a few triangles of cheese. Dandelion couldn’t keep the grin from his face as he slowly worked his way through the food on his plate.

I wonder what Ashara is doing… Has she found the letter? The food turned to lead in his stomach. Dandelion pushed the plate away, snatching the wine filled goblet and gulping it down. With his appetite soured, Dandelion turned to his father.

“What’s next, father?” If the king noticed his son’s wary expression, or the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, he didn’t show any sign of it.

“Next up is a bath, then you’ll be given the ceremonial cloak.”

Dandelion raised his brows. Irritation and impatience spiralled under his skin. He merely nodded and let his shoulders drop.

“Alright, father.” Oberon stared at his son, disbelief written across his features. The king raised a hand, then let it fall to his side. His eyes softened.

“I know what you’re going through, my brave little lion… When your mother and I wed It was during the first war; It wasn’t as elaborate as the one you and your cousin are having. The ceremonies weren’t around then. It was just The Hunt, The Handfasting, and The Awakening.” The king smiled, but it seemed to be more of a grimace than a smile. “We had so much thrust upon us; We just want things to easier for you than we had it.” You don’t understand… It’s not the Ceremonies or even Being Handfasted to Ashara. It’s what I’ve done. I created a rift that will take a long time to heal. I killed her happiness…

Dandelion smiled, nodding.

“I understand that you wish to give us things that you and mother never had. I merely wish to get this over with as quickly as possible.” Dandelion blushed. Oberon chuckled.

“I understand the passions of a young man. You won’t have to wait long for the marriage bed, my son.” Dandelion felt his face heat more.

“C-can we just hurry this along?” The king laughed.

“Arthur, prepare the bath!” Arthur went to the corner of the room, and tugged on a long, gold rope. A few moments later, a knock at the door, opened by Arthur, a bevy of servants came in carrying buckets of hot water; More servants came in after them with a large copper tub, setting it down in front of the crackling fire. A small pageboy trailed in after them, carrying his own bucket. The pageboy emptied it into the tub. Salt? Dandelion leaned forward, watching as the salt poured into the tub, followed by hot and cold buckets of water.

Oberon’s hand was at his shoulder, both of them watching as the Servants filed out one by one. To them this must be just another night. As the page boy closed the door behind him, Dandelion felt his stomach clench with nerves. Dandelion felt his father’s hand push him forward. He stared into the water of the tub. It’s just water. There’s no need to be afraid.

Dandelion swallowed, flexing his wings. He grinned slightly at the jolt of pain that lanced down his spine at the action. He stepped into the tub , one foot at a time, and sunk into the warm water, not giving himself time to think.

Dandelion hissed. He gritted his teeth. The salty water stung the lashes on his back. When he attempted to stand, his father came behind him, bearing down on his shoulders with his large hands. Dandelion’s green, trisected wings flapped madly, making the pain worse. I hadn’t realised it before, but one of the feels as if it isn’t even there. The kings pale face was concerned. He shushed Dandelions cries of pain.

“I know it hurts, son, but this will help your Omen marks heal and scar. This is a badge of honor!”

“Where are my wings, father?” Dandelion’s voice cracked. Why didn’t I realise this sooner? Why did no one tell me? They aren’t seriously entertaining the idea that I go on The Hunt until I’ve healed? The king took his hands away from Dandelions shoulders. I deserve this. It’s my punishment from the gods for hurting Ashara. She lost something dear to her, and so have I.

Dandelion felt soft and vulnerable. Laughter bubbled up from somewhere unknown. Oberon was silent. Dandelion looked at Arthur, only to find his servant had his eyes cast down. The pain encouraged him; It rippled into his back, irritating his Omen marks and damaged wing. Missing wing! Oberon grabbed Dandelion’s arm, lifting his shaking body out of the still warm water. His eyes were desperate, and morose.

Oberon drew his hand back, curling it in a fist. He rammed it into Dandelion’s pale, muscled stomach. Dandelion was silent, slumped over and moaning in pain. The king glared at Arthur, his green eyes hard specks of emerald.

“Dry him and dress him, I will wait outside.” The king picked Dandelion up and dropped him on the soft green doublet of his bed.

Arthur was silent as he followed the king’s command. Dandelion made no move to fight. His entire back was on fire, Yet all he could do was grin. Dandelion allowed Arthur’s pale, calloused hands to dry him with the soft linen cloth. I deserve this. I will never be able to make up for the pain I caused her.

Dandelion watched as his servant brought brought out a shimmering green and brown cloak from the wardrobe. I don’t remember owning that… Upon closer inspection, Dandelion saw that it was the cloak from his lessons as a boy; The cloak made in homage to the horned god. It appears this will be happening whether or not I am a willing participant. It’s a shame that I had only felt guilty watching her be so happy these last few days, and knowing she wouldn’t be happy in court. Maybe she can learn to be happy? How can I help her to be happy?

Dandelion got up, letting Arthur slip the cloak around his shoulders and fastening it. Is this the weight of a dynasty on my shoulders? He folded his one good wing flat against his back. Dandelion strode, opening the door to his bedchamber, across the sitting room beyond and opening that door. Oberon leaned against the wall, watching him.

“Father.” Oberon made no reply, only standing and walking down the white marble floor of the corridor. Dandelion followed, his gut churning.

The three men did not speak as the moved through the halls of the palace. They left the palace, it’s pale walls gleaming under the full moon. Dandelion watched at they made their way into the field surrounding the palace. We’re going into the forest: The home of the horned god . The pine trees loomed large above them, several hundred yards ahead. Dandelion’s stomach knotted as he walked. He could feel his heart in his throat.

The trees came closer and closer. As they stood under the branches, Dandelion paused. His father was ahead of him, and stopped when he only heard one set of footsteps following him. He turned to look at Dandelion. Dandelion felt a cold shiver rack his body. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, and forced his feet to move.

Dandelion saw specs of light in the distance. What are those? Oberon stopped him from stepping forward.

“When you return, your cloak must be around her shoulders, my son.” Dandelion felt his stomach clench. His broken wing throbbed, making his back burn.

“I know father. I’m not stupid.” The king didn’t reply, merely shoving him into the clearing.

Dandelion waited a few moments, looking around. Ashara slipped between the trees, wearing a white and gold embroidered cloak. Her shoulders shook. She held her face in her hands before sinking to the ground. Dandelion’s eyes burned, hot tears streaming down his face. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you… I wanted you all to myself. I thought it was part of my duty. To watch you, to guard over you! It was my right.

A strange numbness had stolen over Dandelion. His tears dried and he watched as Ashara’s handmaid, Eolande came into the clearing. She knelt down, hugging Ashara. They seemed to exchange words, their heads nodding. Eolande stood, offering her hand to Ashara. What are they doing? I don’t think this is apart of The Hunt…

Ashara took Eolande’s hand, standing on shaking legs, and they ran, disappearing into the trees.