Mavourneen looked away. “I suppose we’ll see what you make of it then,” she sighed. 

The faerie nodded and sat down on the floor. “Well then my darling,” he said, gesturing for her to share. “Take me to your dreams.”

Nodding, she told him of the red haired fairy, “They’re different every night and they continue, even while I’m awake. Every night I see a handsome figure, he’s always doing something for his sweetheart, writing poetry or making gifts. I could not tell you who he is but it feels that every night it’s me he does these things for.”

“What is he like?” the faerie inquired.

The princess nodded, knowing that answer well, “He’s like sunrise on an autumn morning, familiar, but just as marvellous every time I see him. I,” she paused, sitting straight, “I want to know who he is, where he is, do you know?”

The white fae was taken back by the question but gave an amused smile to her enthusiasm, “I can not tell you my lady, your love has died to my world and its people.”

Baffled by the statement, the king raised his voice, “You cannot tell her? Whatever are you here for?”

The faerie scowled, folding his ears back. “The assistance I can give is limited dear. I simply come here to right a wrong made on my behalf!” his tone began to sound more irritated. “Now if you want to find your autumn prince, I strongly advise you to listen.”

The faerie stood up and walked forward with the yew branch. In front of the princess he stiffly held it out, letting the misty green needles dangle from his hand.

The instructions he gave were terse, “Take this, worry not about its toxicity, it is a necklace albeit its looks be deceiving, very soon you will have to give it away, should you be the right person you will know exactly what I mean when the time comes. If you do not give it away your love will die.”

Mavourneen looked wearily at the man. “How will I know I gave it to the right person?”

“You’ll know, believe me,” he answered, getting impatient. “They’ll come back, is that any condolence to you?” He swung the branch slightly to get her attention.

Mavourneen paused, reached out and took the branch with a hesitant hand. From the first touch of her finger the needles and bark fell away and the clipping had turned to a knotwork pendant on a golden chain.