Yara and Dev sat beneath the bough of a willow tree, perfectly hidden away from the warm rays of the sun. They were the only ones in the courtyard, which had been cleared out to make space for the both of them to converse without any interruptions. The lengthy strands of leaves swayed back and forth as a temperate breeze came in intermittently.

“This is our last day in Lucinia. Tomorrow morning, we embark on our exciting journey,” Dev said, pouring himself another cup of jasmine tea. “Would you like some more tea?” 

“No, thanks. I’ve had my fill,” Yara said. “Our travels begin so soon. We’ve barely had any time to interact with each other in private.” A good thing, she noted mentally. 

“Such a shame.” The prince took a sip of his tea. “What are your feelings on this whole endeavor?” 

“The trek to the tree? It should be simple,” she said. “I’ve brushed up on just about everything there is to know about the surrounding areas.” 

“Good. I know a fair amount of the tree as well, so we should be in for a smooth trip.” 

“I hope so.” Yara pulled the hem of her dress down a bit as the wind picked up. She had barely noticed the time pass, but the sun looked low in the sky. 

Dev took notice of it as well, and said, “Would you like to head inside? I will show you around the premises of tonight’s stay.” 

She nodded, and Dev stood, offering a hand to help her up. Yara humored him and took his hand begrudgingly. She let go of his hand as soon as she was on her feet. 

The doors to the palace stood tall before them, the height of an extinct dragon. She could not fathom why anyone would need doors so large, but it was likely just for the aesthetic, or to show off the grandeur of their architecture. 

They walked through polished halls of rare stone, taking a path off to the side that led them to a gilded entrance. Instead of doors, this entrance to the room had some sort of silky veil over it. When they strode in, the veil behind them solidified into a marble-like door. That must have been the solidified arcana that fae built most of their dwellings with. The elves had not mastered that sort of artisanship, but it was something she would be interested in incorporating into her own decor. Something almost completely negligible in its impact to the environment. It was genius, really. 

“We designed this bed chamber based on elven tastes.” Dev ran his hand over the wood of the headboard, under which rested a triple-wide mattress covered in lusciously smooth sheets of teal. “This bed’s frame was meticulously carved from salvaged elderwood by one of the finest human artisans. He was trained in ancient elven practices, passed down through his family for generations. This whole bedroom was his creation, in fact.”

“You brought a human into the fae realm just for this? That’s brave.”

“Don’t mind the slight security breach. We used our powers of glamor to make him forget the whole ordeal. He probably woke up in his bed wondering how this large sack of currency ended up by his pillow. I’m sure he didn’t mind, however.” 

“Probably not, no.” She looked around the room, walking up to inspect the decorations. All hand-made, and no monitoring devices she could discern. No dragonflies buzzing in the corners or hiding behind the wall fixtures, which meant no one was listening in. At least for now. 

“The furniture in here is mostly scant, and oriented in a way that it will allow for the most peaceful of meditation,” Dev continued. “Sounds will deflect off of these oddly-shaped panels to ensure you will not be disturbed.” 

“Thank you,” Yara said. 

How considerate. Elven practices dictated at least an hour of meditation a day in order to maintain their connection to the Dreaming and replenish their arcana. The fae apparently did not need such techniques, as their wings acted as a natural conduit to draw in arcana from the surroundings, as did the elongated elf ears—but in a lesser capacity. 

“I quite like this driftwood vase. It has a fun shape to it, like an elephant’s ear.” 

“Good eye, princess. That one is one of my favorites.” 

“Ehhh, it’s not that great, actually.” 

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “How did you enjoy the festivities?” 

“They were…different. I didn’t think I could survive a festival of such length, but it actually wasn’t bad once I got a feel for it.” 

“Good to hear, dear Yara.” 

“Just Yara is good, fae prince.” 

“And just Dev is fine as well,” he returned. 

“Yes, Dev.” She smiled. “I do appreciate you folks taking the time to set up everything so nicely. Thank you.”

The prince perked up for a moment, then his face returned to its usual flat countenance. “I’m glad you are satisfied. Shall we prepare for bed?” 

“Of course,” Yara said. “You’re skilled at illusion magic, I assume.”

“Indeed… is there something you need?” Dev seemed receptive to her, which was a good sign. 

“Can you…” She looked deeply into his eyes—for the first time, it felt like. He gazed back at her—his eyes held a softness she hadn’t seen before, the slight sparkles danced around his pupils. Each of the fae folk’s eyes held some sort of cosmic dust, alluding to their otherworldly nature. His unique stardust came in the color of golden flecks, similar to the golden-foil wings he possessed. He kept his wings hidden, mostly, but she caught glimpses of them unfurled from time to time, and they were beautiful. 

Dev held her gaze, as if he were waiting for her to finally give in, to finally let him attend to her every need. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Can you…” Yara let the words drip out of her mouth like sweet honey. She would make him wait for this, if only to build up the anticipation. “Can you put up an illusory wall between us when we get in bed? Perfectly down the middle would be fine, seeing as the bed is plenty large for the two of us.”

Yara watched as his face fell. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being anything more than just a traveling companion… not today—perhaps not ever. 

“Yes. I can do that for you,” he said, and with a simple lift of his index finger, a shimmering barrier rose up from the floor. It cut right through the underside of the bed, but didn’t faze it. The wall stopped at the height of the ceiling. 

Climbing into bed, she put a hand to the barrier, and it didn’t even ripple at her touch. It hummed quietly, like a distant singing insect. 

“Impressive, Dev.” Yara gave him a genuine smile for once, pleased with the results. “You stay on your side, okay?” 

“As a fae of my word, I promise I will not cross this barrier tonight,” he replied, then entered his side of the bed, pulling the covers over him.

“Good boy,” she said, then turned over, snuggling into the pillow that seemed as if it were filled with clouds. “Sleep well.” 

Knowing a fae could not tell a lie, moreover, couldn’t break a promise, Yara felt assured he would not get up to any funny business. It gave her a sense of comfort knowing that he would take some lengths to ensure her needs were met. She almost felt bad, but she had to be this way, she couldn’t help how she was. One could not so easily sleep with someone that had been an enemy to her kin for over a century. 

Her mother had once told her to keep an open mind. That love would find her when she least expected it. But then her mother headed onto the battlefield, only her mutilated body coming back home. 

The stories from the front had said she had been captured by the fae and negotiations had gone terribly wrong. One of the fae had detonated an illusory charge inside her head at close range, the resulting chain reaction disintegrating her entire upper half. 

The horrors of war had been ingrained into her mind as a young child, and over the years, she had grown desensitized to it all. She was filled with this deep-seated bitterness, not at her enemies, but the fact that she had been powerless the whole time. She hadn’t been able to protect any of her family members. It was like her existence had no meaning, because she made no difference in what was happening around her. 

That’s why she had poured her heart and soul into learning the old magicks, to no avail. 

The ancestors would not commune with her. They would not lend her their graces. It felt like she had been cut off from a long line of talented spell-casters, denied access to their heritage. Why her? Every single one of her sisters had their own specialty, except her. 

“Hey…” Dev whispered. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You won’t convince me to—”

“No, Yara. Nothing like that,” he said. 

She glanced over at him, his face covered in a haze of purple on the other side of the barrier. He looked like he was stricken with worry. 

“Do you mind if I wrap the barrier around you? You’d be allowed to leave at any time, but no one can enter it.” 

“I don’t mind, no. I would feel safer that way, if enemies truly are lurking about.” 

“Thank you.” Dev didn’t even make a hand motion this time, and the barrier slowly expanded, wrapping around the edges of the bed. 

The prince was so gentle with every movement, with every spell he cast. He had such fine control over himself and his abilities, it made her slightly jealous. She could not compare to talent such as that. Maybe someday she could reach his level, or even that of her sisters. 

I bet everything comes so easily to him, she thought as she felt sleep beckon her away. 

It wasn’t long after she had fallen into an almost-restful slumber that she heard the whispers. 

Someone else was in the room with them. 

Her eyes shot open, only to meet with a silhouette leaning over the edge of Dev’s side of the bed.