The silhouette tilted its head her way. Yara froze. The stranger’s eyes had a glow to them, like a cat’s, in the dark. A fae? From the posture and hair, they gave off a masculine appearance, but it was hard to tell in the darkness. 

She needed to find a way to reach for her knife, slowly. If the fae somehow could breach her barrier, it wouldn’t be difficult for her to stab it in the neck.

But what did it want? Why was it here, standing by Dev? Was the target of this enemy the prince, or her? Why would someone want to assassinate the prince in his sleep—she interrupted the train of thought with her own logic. Well, duh, he’s a prince. A lot of people would want him dead. I need to act quick, or at least say something. But if I speak, then the fae might act drastically. 

“She’s awake,” said the figure. 

Yara blinked. It was too late. Was there someone else in the room with them that the figure was talking to? Her heart raced with adrenaline. In a second, she could leap across the barrier and tackle her opponent. Yeah, that’s what she would do. She could disarm him, then use that weapon to try and take out the other person in the room that was hidden somewhere. 

“Yara?” Dev murmured. “Sorry if we were being too loud.” 

“Huh?” Her plans suddenly fell apart. Deflated like a puff pastry with a hole in it. It was so late, that she could barely process what was happening. 

“It’s just me.” Dev raised a hand, poking the stranger in the face. Then it broke apart into shards of pink glass. “I have trouble sleeping some nights, so I bring out an illusion to pass the time.” 

“You talk to yourself?” Did she say that outloud? She didn’t mean to. 

“Yeah, sometimes. Is that weird?” 

“A little. It seems I learn something strange about you every day—against my will, of course.” This was also true, but she could have left out the last part. 

“It can’t be that bad, right?” Dev asked. 

“I suppose I don’t understand much about fae culture. Pardon me if what I said came off rude.”

“You do sound rude quite frequently. I’m sure it’s not intentional.” He smiled from behind the barrier, his teeth having a purplish tinge from the effect of the veil. 

“Of course not. Not all the time.” 

“So there are times when you’re trying to be rude?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, okay,” Dev sat up. “Well, it’s close enough to morning anyway, so I’ll make us some breakfast. What would you like?”

“Cheese,” Yara answered, almost out of habit. 

“...Cheese?”

“Out of all the breakfast foods I’ve tried, a fine imported cheese always strikes my fancy,” she explained. 

“I have just the thing.” 

About thirty minutes later, the door opened slowly. Dev propped open the door with his foot, carefully bringing in a wooden board stacked with cheeses of all sorts, as well as slices of fresh fruit. 

He laid it gently on the bed, waving a hand over the spread like he was some sort of attendant. “Behold.”

And she beheld. The selection was simply divine—she didn’t need to take more than a cursory glance to know that. 

“Garden fresh fruit, wildberries, and several different types of cheese. I’m not familiar with all of them, but I picked out every kind I could find. The visiting vendors come from all over the Dreaming and beyond. The material and the immaterial realms come into conjunction during this time, which the humans call ‘Halloween.’”

“There are more humans in town?” Yara took a small berry and tossed it into her mouth, chewing gratefully. 

“Yes, of course. We cannot help it, as when the realms collide, we can interact with their world, and they with ours. Although, they see us as other humans during this time, as their small brains cannot comprehend spiritual folk most of the time.”

“I see. I’d love to meet one someday.” She followed up her last bite with the juiciest red grape she had ever had the pleasure of tasting. 

“I’m sure you would. Perhaps one day in a world where we can enjoy a peace between all species, human and otherwise.” 

Yara smiled at the thought—it was warm and comforting, like the plush sheets of a bed in the middle of a chilly night. While she knew it was a far flung dream that would likely never come to fruition, she still took a moment to envision a world without war. Something like that, where people traded goods, not ammunition. Where love was practiced, not hate. Even the Dreaming was rife with turmoil and blood, so she doubted the physical and spiritual realms could come to an agreement anytime soon. 

“I hope it happens in my lifetime—peace, that is,” Yara said, remaining optimistic, even if it was foolish. 

“I wish to see your dream through, princess,” Dev said, his voice holding no sarcasm or a joking lilt. He seemed completely serious.

“Y-yes. If you want.” Yara found herself stuttering, for some odd reason. His words always ended up being surprising to her, especially when she least expected it. She hated the fact that he could reassure her like that—what right did he have? It was downright pathetic that something as simple as words could strike her right in her emotional core—weakness she didn’t know she had previously. He was truly dangerous, even if he had never threatened her physically. Growing up, she had been wary of dangerous men, yet none had possessed silver tongues like his—at least not in the same way. This grew her curiosity…she wanted to learn what made him tick, how to strike at his heart in a way that would make him a silly little puppet in her calculating strings. All she would need was time. 

The smell of cheese wafted into her nostrils, and she was reminded of why she was here in the first place. Nothing could have distracted her from cheese in the past—something was wrong with her, she deduced. A spell had been cast on her, or her time here was making her slowly lose pieces of herself. It could have been all the stress from everything that had been going on. 

“Thanks for the cheese,” Yara said quietly, then began to make short work of the food on the wooden board. Farmer’s cheese, cheese from far-off lands in the physical realm, cheese made by the fae, even, out of some strange dairy sourced from a wild beast, probably, or from a rare flower or tree of sorts. She didn’t know, but she couldn’t say she particularly cared. It was downright delicious. The cheese melted in her mouth with every bite, soft and only slightly chewy. Just the right amount. 

She could get used to this, Yara found herself thinking, to even her own surprise. Not the type of mindset she should be getting used to, however. But then again, the cheese. The cheese could have made this whole thing worth it. The elves rarely encountered humans, as they weren’t close enough to any tears or rifts in the spiritual dimensions. And there were no conjunctions to speak of either, at least none that she was aware of. It was definitely something novel for her, the way fae so easily mingled with humans and the physical realm. Maybe she could travel there one day and see what sorts of cheese awaited her. 

A burst of chatter came from beyond the closed doors of the bedchamber. Dev turned his attention toward the door, a quizzical look on his face at first, but then he quickly understood the situation, relaying the information to her soon after. “The welcoming party is here, Yara. I’ll go ahead and keep them occupied, you get dressed in the meantime.” 

He flashed her a brief smile before his expression turned serious again, and he walked off toward the door. He reached for the handle with one hand, and flicked his ring finger out on his other hand, and the curtains that surrounded the bed quickly closed around her, concealing her from view. The silken material shimmered for a moment, and then became more opaque. The marvels of fae magic—or even technology, she supposed. After a certain point, it became difficult to differentiate the two. Sufficiently advanced technology was akin to the arcane arts. 

The door opened and shut, and Dev was gone. The thought of him being gone struck her deeply on a level she thought strange. Why would it matter if he wasn’t here right now? It wasn’t like he had passed away or disappeared, and she was not usually the needy type. 

Right? She blinked, flashes of the Deep Woods—twisted trees, gnarled bark—coming and going. She clutched her head as a searing pain set in. It vanished after a second, gone as quickly as it had arrived. Yara shook her head, then began to get dressed.