“Well, Little Light,” she said, her tone a mixture of mockery and fondness. “I’ve done my part. You’re back in your gilded cage.”

“Gilded cage,” I echoed, a sour taste in my mouth. “Thank you for the reminder.”

Sylvain smirked. “Just keeping your reality intact. You’re welcome.” Her dark eyes flicked to Quill, who jumped out of my arms and onto a small side table to lick his paw. “I assume you’ll be fine with the furball for company.”

Quill glanced up, his green eyes narrowing. “I’m right here, Syl. Perhaps your eyesight is failing along with your charm.”

Sylvain’s grin widened. “Careful, shapeshifter. I’m feeling generous today, but that can change.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Must you two bicker? I’m exhausted.”

Quill leapt down, his paws landing softly on the plush carpet. “She started it.”

Sylvain rolled her eyes dramatically. “Fine. I’ll leave you to your... feline diplomacy.” She stepped closer to me, her expression softening just a fraction. “Take care of yourself, Little Light. Things are bound to get... complicated.”

“They already are,” I said quietly.

Her smirk returned, but there was something gentler behind it. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

With a flick of her wrist, the air shimmered faintly as a portal began to form behind her. The hum of magic resonated softly, and she stepped backward into it without another word, her silhouette vanishing as the light faded.

Silence settled over the corridor. I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where Sylvain had been, my mind racing with all that lay ahead.

“Good riddance,” Quill muttered, breaking the quiet. He stretched lazily, his tail curling. “She’s unbearable.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself.”

He flicked his tail dismissively. “Perhaps not, but I don’t torment you for sport.”

“Debatable,” I said, turning to head toward my chambers.

Quill trotted after me, his claws clicking faintly against the floor. “Debatable or not, at least you have me now. Sylvain’s gone, and the guards are gone. It’s just you and your favorite shapeshifter.”

“Favorite?” I scoffed, pushing open the door to my chambers. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He slipped inside ahead of me, hopping onto a chair and curling up as though he owned the place. “You’ll see. I grow on people.”

“Like a fungus,” I muttered, shutting the door behind me.

"Your court is far too uptight," Quill remarked, his mental voice cutting through my thoughts. "I can feel the tension in the walls. It’s a wonder more of them don’t crack from the pressure."

I couldn’t help but smile faintly. “You’re not wrong,” I muttered under my breath. “I’m starting to wonder the same thing.”

Reaching my chambers, I slipped inside and quickly shut the door behind me. The familiar scent of lavender and old parchment filled the air, a stark contrast to the earthy, electric tang of the dark realm.

Quill jumped up on a plush armchair near the window, where he promptly stretched out, looking far too comfortable for someone in disguise. “Alright, you stay here while I deal with the council,” I said firmly. “And no wandering. If anyone sees a random cat prowling the palace, they’ll start asking questions.”

"I’ll be the picture of discretion," he replied, his tone dripping with mock innocence. "Just don’t take too long. I’d hate to get bored."

Rolling my eyes, I turned away and gathered what I’d need for the inevitable interrogation. My council wouldn’t accept vague answers or half-truths, but I couldn’t tell them everything, either. If they found out about Quill, or the gauntlet, or the brutality that the dark fae is capable of, it would all fall apart before it even began.

As I unfastened the clasp of my cloak, I glanced back at Quill. He was curled up on the chair, his tail flicking lazily as he gazed out the window. Despite his relaxed demeanor, I knew he was observing everything, taking in every detail of this realm with the sharp eyes of a predator.

"Good luck, Little Light," he said softly, his tone uncharacteristically sincere. "You’re going to need it. I might look for mice later."

The council chamber felt colder than usual, the marble floors and walls amplifying every sound. As I stepped inside, the weight of expectation settled heavily on my shoulders. The chamber was as imposing as ever, with its long, arched windows allowing streams of pale light to illuminate the room. The massive table in the center gleamed, its polished surface reflecting the stern faces of those seated around it.

Hawke sat at the far end, his presence as commanding as ever. His dark hair was streaked with silver, his sharp eyes pinning me the moment I entered. I used to be in awe every time I watched him shapeshift into a hawk, but after seeing Quill flawlessly transform into multiple different forms, I’ve realized that Hawke isn’t as powerful as I had thought.

Rune was at his usual seat to the left, his expression calm but unreadable, his long fingers folded neatly in front of him. Allyster stood on the right, his posture deceptively relaxed, though I could feel the tension radiating from him. Others filled the remaining chairs, their faces a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

I didn’t need magic to feel their scrutiny.

“Ciara,” Hawke greeted, his voice firm but not unkind. “Glad to see you’ve returned. We received word this morning that you were on your way.”

I inclined my head respectfully as I approached my usual seat.

The room seemed to hum with unspoken questions, but Hawke didn’t press immediately. Instead, he gestured for me to sit, and I did so, trying to keep my movements calm and composed despite the storm of nerves inside me. I no longer feel scared around anyone in this room. My only concern is about how much pushback I will get from them. Up until the Harmony Festival, I had no true interest in what was going on.

I attended the meetings, but I was never part of the rulings. Rune had handled everything and coached me on what I should and shouldn’t say. Allyster would let me sneak out of the palace to mingle with the villagers because he didn’t see me as someone important enough to worry over.

“We’ve heard rumors,” Allyster said, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but his eyes gleamed with curiosity. “About suspicious dark fae movements. If the whispers are to be believed, it could mean they are getting ready for something.”

I nodded, choosing my words carefully. “They are ensuring that our lands are always protected.”

Rune’s gaze sharpened. “What? That’s not their concern.”

“It turns out that they don’t trust Ally to keep the people safe,” I said, meeting his eyes and smirking. Allyster let out a growl as he heard that old nickname, knowing very well it came from Drakaris.

Hawke leaned forward slightly, his brows furrowing. “We have tons of arrangements to get done. None of which we could even start because you were off only gods know where.”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of their collective stares. “Unfortunately, you will just have to learn how to share me.” I paused, my voice steady but quiet. “After all, I belong to two different realms now.”

A murmur rippled through the chamber, and whispers were shared between the council members.

“That is absurd,” Allyster asked, his voice laced with skepticism. “You will always be a light fae. We made sure of it.”

“Yes. I am the Queen of the Light realm, and I will marry a dark fae to forge an alliance.” I said sternly. All this back and forth is getting ridiculous. “The Lycans are a threat to both realms. If we are to survive, we need their strength. End of discussion.”

As the words "end of discussion" left my lips, a sudden tremor rippled through the chamber. The air grew heavy, charged with an energy that was both foreign and familiar. The golden light streaming through the stained-glass windows dimmed, flickering erratically as though the sunlight itself wavered under the weight of my declaration.

A deep, resonant hum vibrated through the room, causing the council table to quake. Scrolls and inkpots tumbled to the floor, and the ornate chandelier above swayed ominously. A soft, otherworldly glow emanated from the veins of the marble floor, spreading outward like cracks of light racing through the stone.

“What is happening?” Astrid demanded, gripping the edge of the table to steady herself. Her sharp gaze flickered to me, suspicion and unease mingling in her expression.

“I am your Queen,” I admitted, though my voice was steadier than I felt.

The vibrations intensified for a moment, accompanied by a faint pulse of energy that felt almost... alive. It wasn’t chaotic—it was controlled, deliberate. It sent shivers up my spine, though I recognized the distinct signature of dark magic weaving through the air. My heart raced as I realized what was happening.

Somewhere, unseen but close, the dark fae were helping me.

“Magic,” Rune muttered, his golden eyes narrowing as he studied me. “But... that can’t be. She doesn’t—”

“Doesn’t have magic?” I finished for him, my tone biting. “Perhaps you were mistaken.”

Allyster’s face hardened, his disbelief etched into every line. “This is a trick. An illusion.”

“I suggest you sit down, Allyster,” I said, keeping my tone measured, my face a mask of calm. Inside, I was reeling, trying to decide whether to lean into the illusion or downplay it.

“You can’t tell me this is your doing,” Rowan interjected, his normally composed demeanor cracking under the pressure. “You don’t even have your magic—”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” I interrupted sharply, allowing just a flicker of a smirk to curl at the corner of my lips. “You all wanted proof of my power. Consider this your answer.”

The room stilled for a moment, the tremors subsiding as suddenly as they began. I took a slow, deliberate breath, my mind racing to keep up with what I’d just unleashed. Had it been the force of my will? My anger? Or something deeper, something tied to the identity I had fought so hard to claim?

“You cannot ignore this,” I said, meeting each council member’s gaze in turn. “You wanted me powerless—a figurehead for your convenience. But I am more than that. I am the Queen, and I will decide the path forward.”

The vibrations softened but didn’t entirely dissipate, leaving the room cloaked in an almost tangible tension. I glanced at Allyster, who clenched his fists at his sides, glaring at me with a mixture of anger and wariness.

“This is absurd,” he spat, though his voice was quieter now. “If you think theatrics will convince us, you’re mistaken.”

“Are you so sure it’s theatrics?” I asked, stepping closer to the table. The air around me felt charged, alive with borrowed power. “You have underestimated me for far too long.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as my council exchanged uneasy glances. For the first time, I saw cracks in their unity—hesitation, uncertainty, and perhaps a sliver of fear. They were rethinking everything, the certainty of their authority shaken by a force they couldn’t control.

Allyster broke the silence, his voice low but still laced with anger. “This does not absolve you of your recklessness, Ciara. You may have magic, but it doesn’t make your decisions any less dangerous.”

“No,” I replied, lifting my chin. “It makes them necessary. The Lycans won’t wait for us to sort through our petty politics. They are coming, and we need to be united to face them.”

This time, the chamber remained still, but the weight of my words lingered in the air. For once, they didn’t argue.

A murmur of reluctant agreement spread through the council, though Allyster remained glaring, his jaw tight. He clearly wasn’t convinced, but the seeds of doubt had been planted, and for now, that was enough.

“Now,” I said, folding my hands in front of me, “if we’re done questioning my authority, I suggest we focus on preparing for the Lycans. Unless, of course, any of you would like to test my patience further.”

Silence.

I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile as the council slowly nodded, their earlier bravado fading. Inside, I whispered a silent thank-you to whoever had helped orchestrate this moment. They had given me a chance to reclaim control, even if only temporarily.

Rune’s voice was the first to cut through the silence. “The dark fae are unpredictable. Their loyalty is earned, not assumed. Have you considered what they might do once the Lycans are dealt with?”

“I have,” I replied, keeping my tone even. “Now, where are we on all the other proposal arrangements?”

The council straightened, their attention sharpening.

“Kraven and Aqua have asked to be wed,” Hawke said, understanding that the conversation was over. “There are also four other successful matches.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

Hawke studied me for a long moment before nodding. We spent several hours going over updates from other regions. Allyster informed us that there has been occasionally sited along the south and western coasts, but they’ve been staying out in deep water.

As we wrapped up the meeting, I couldn’t help myself from asking. “Why don’t we all eat dinner together? We have a dining hall that hasn’t been used in decades.”

Rune’s eyes lingered on me as he leaned back in his chair. “Why would we do that? Clover or Deirdre will bring you food."

His response stung, though I knew it was coming. I nodded, my chest tight with the weight of their expectations. Another ripple of murmurs spread through the room. As the meeting adjourned and the council members began to file out, Rune lingered behind, his sharp eyes fixed on me.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Ciara,” he said quietly, his voice laced with warning.

“I don’t have a choice,” I replied, meeting his gaze.

His expression softened slightly, but he turned and left, leaving me alone in the echoing chamber. As I stood there, the silence pressing in around me, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d taken on more than I could handle.

“You will always be a light fae. We made sure of it.” Allyster’s words echo in my mind over and over.