Elethea's hands fidgeted with the invitation scroll as she stared at the wall. Her mind was disorganized, both feelings of anticipation and of uncertainty filled her. Had she made the right decision? Yes, she did. She kept telling herself whenever that doubt nagged her. It would be a chance to make her, and Thorne's lives better. They would no longer worry about skipping a meal. They would live in the castle, not a one roomed house that is on the brink of collapse. They would also have nice warm clothes in the winter, instead of huddling around the small furnace. Clothes that didn't have any holes in them. Clothes that...

Clothes! The thought hit her. It hit her so hard that it felt large pendulum ball struck her. She had no formal dress she could wear to the ball. Nor anything fancy of any sorts. One couldn't go to the palace in an old dress that was sewn so many times with large unmatching patches. Nor would one wear mud-stained leather boots that were coming apart. This thought made her heart sink, there was no chance that she would get chosen amongst the other girls.

"Thorne," Elethea began, anxiety was evident in her voice, "I don't have a nice dress, or anything fancy that would impress the prince."

Thorne sighed; he looked down on the ground. His face downcast, filled with sadness and pain. "I have something for you," he said quietly.

He walked to the corner of the house and bent down. He carefully but easily pulled a floorboard from the ground, revealing a small compartment. Inside of the compartment was a chest, with the name 'Athena' engraved in it. Wasn't that her mother's name? She thought.

Thorne brushed off some dust that covered the front then he opened it. In the chest, there were serval items. One of them was a beautiful red dress. Thorne took it out and handed it to Elethea.

"This was your mother's. When she died, I kept all her most treasured items. That dress being one of them."

Elethea held onto the dress not knowing what to say. She stood there for several moments, feeling the soft fabric of the dress against fer fingers. She wondered how it would look on her. She rushed to the big, rusted mirror. She pulled the gown up to her chest and gazed at her reflection. The dress resembled a rose with its red coloring and its layers. The sleeves were a lighter shade of red and were off the shoulder. The dress had a V-shaped neckline with a silk knit rose carefully stitched at the end. It was a gorgeous dress. But she couldn't wear it. It was her mother's; it was for too precious to wear.

"This is so...so beautiful. I don't know if I should wear this."

"Your mother had hoped that someday her daughter would wear it. This is your chance to make her proud," Thorne said smiling sadly.

"It's too special to wear, I-

"Please Elethea, your mother would have wanted it. She'd give it to you herself if she could."

Elethea nodded and held the dress up again. The more she looked at the dress the more she loved it. She would wear it proudly.

"I don't know what to say," she said, neatly folded the dress and put it back in the chest.

When she put the dress back, she admired the other items in the chest. For all these years she lived in this house, she never saw these things before. Elethea dug through the things, curious what in the chest. She pulled out a book, the cover was worn out and was falling apart. She opened it carefully and neat handwriting was scribbled on the pages.

"That was your mother's journal," her cousin said.

She nodded and put the book to her side. Not wanting to invade her mother's privacy. She then pulled out a small wooden box. She opened it. There was a dead rose inside. The petals were brown and were detached from the stem. The stem, like the petals, were dry and brown.

"Your mother loved roses, just like you Elethea. That rose was the first rose your father gave her."

She carefully closed the box and dug into the chest more. There were shoes that matched the dress, pieces for jewelry, and a shiny hair piece. There also books, that she assumed were her mother's favorites. Along with a golden hand mirror. The last thing she pulled out was a piece of paper all folded up. She carefully unfolded it.

"That was the letter your father wrote to your mother about running away," Thorne sad with such sadness.

Elethea looked at him curiously. She wondered more than ever what her parents were like. She knew it was a touchy subject for her cousin, since he never really talked about them for more than two minutes. So, she asked slowly and quietly.

"What were they like?"

"They were very much in love and determined to be together."

"But it's forbidden."

"It is," he replied shortly, indicating he wanted to move on with another subject.

"No, you will tell me what happened to them. In all my nineteen years I really never knew about them. And now you show me my mother's thing that I didn't know existed and you expect me not to ask more questions." Elethea covered her mouth once she said those things. She never was the one to be persistent, not demanding. But she had the right to know.

Thorne took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "You are right, I kept it from you so long because it's painful. But it's about time that you know."

Elethea sat down and listened carefully.

When Thorne spoke, there was obvious pain in his eye. But he didn't stop, he just kept going until the story about her parents ended:

"My cousin Athena, your mother, was an amazing woman. She and I were very close, ever since she and her family took me in when my parents died from the flu. I always looked up to her and thought her as my older sister.

But when you mother was about your age, your father came in the picture. Your mother, loved flowers, especially roses. For her twentieth birthday I surprised her with a rose garden, that I worked on for months. I made a bench and the fences that surrounded it. It was the perfect gift. Athena loved it.

One day she came to her rose a rose garden, fences knocked down and all the flowers ripped off from the stems. The garden was a mess, and it devastated your mother. That is when your father came, he healed every rose in that garden. That's how your mother fell for him.

Your mother knew she was to be careful around faeries, but she didn't care. He just revived her garden after all. As you know she and I were close, she just couldn't keep it to herself and told me everything. How I tried to stop her for the consequences of doing so were great, but she didn't listen. I got increasingly worried the more she snuck off with him. Her parents got suspicious and watched their daughter very closely. She hated it and told me she would run away with him. She did that, ran off with him. Her parents the town looked for her, but none of them could find her. Thinking she was dead, they quit looking.

Months later one night I heard a knock at my door, there your mother stood, wet from the rain and pregnant with you. She told me everything. about running away to be with your father. Unfortunately, he died by drowning in a river. I was the only one that could help her and so I did. I hid her at my place, making sure no one knew about her. On the day you due, your mother has a hard time. I did everything I could. Once you let out your first cry, your mother passed away. I took you in. I left that village that day, I didn't want anyone to know about you. I didn't want them to punish an innocent baby because she had faery in her. Now here we are.

Elethea didn't know what to say. After all that, he took her in and protected her. She felt moved, tears filled her eye. "Y-you did all of that?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't know what to say; thank you." She said as she wiped at her eyes, "But why? Why did you let her break the rules?"

"When your mother's family took me in, she was sure to make me happy and feel like I was part of the family. I wanted to see her happy, and her loving your father made her so."

Elethea opened her mouth to say something, but nothing could come out. Her mind was too tangled in many thoughts about what she just learned.

Thorne looked at Elethea in a serious manner. "Elethea, you should not tell anyone about your heritage. You won't tell anyone that you have faery in you. Not even your mate. No one should know. There are big dangers. You will be exiled or worse. I will be taken away for knowing about this. And as for the faery race, they may face horrible consequences.

"I have never once shared about my heritage. I promise I will never let our secret out."

"It isn't just a secret. It's life and death. For years I kept your identity hidden, because I don't want to lose you."

Elethea nodded.

"Good. One more thing, when you get to the palace, I don't want you to practice magic. Do not grow or revive flowers. We can't risk anyone seeing you with magic. You will be reported. As you know humans hate your kind, and they will tell.

"It will be very hard, Thorne, but I won't do any magic."

"That is what I want to hear. I love you Elethea, and I want you to live a great life. If anything ever happened to you, I don't know what I will do."

"You won't ever lose me, dear cousin. No one will know about who I really am. I promise."