Titania sat regally on her her throne at the head of the council chamber, her golden gaze steady despite the emptiness that loomed beside her. For centuries, Oberon’s throne had been a symbolized the unity of their rule, but now its absence spoke of betrayal, of fractures within the Fae Wilds that could no longer be ignored.

Her raven-black hair pinned up, hooves in place of feet, four sleek black wings folded behind her, and a tail swaying in excitement to see her children despite the loneliness she felt that he man who had been her Tyngan for thousands of years, was not here for this meeting. The longer she sat alone the more she had to come to terms that he was longer the man she had fallen for… but how do you grieve for someone who is still alive?

“Good morning, Mother,” Valorous greeted as he entered the chamber, his voice a deep rumble that filled the space like the first crack of thunder on a summer day. The King of the Summer Court strode to his place among the council, his towering frame exuding both strength and warmth. Standing close to eight feet tall, his broad shoulders and muscled form seemed sculped from sunlight itself. His long black hair, streaked with white like the first snow of winter, cascaded down his back in intricate braids, each one a testament to his victories and sorrows.

Titania’s expression softened as he entered the chamber. “Good morning my sweet boy,” she said warmly. “How is your Tyngan fairing? Has she begun to to find her place among the Wilds?”

A faint smile curved Valorous’s lips, though it carried a bittersweet edge. “Esmeralda is doing well, Mother. The wilds have embraced her, as I knew they would.”His golden eyes flickered with a gentle tenderness. “She is stronger than I ever could have imagained.”

“She must be, to endure all she has and still thrive,: Titania replied gentle. “The Will of the Fates chose well for you.”

The faint smile faded from his face as his gaze dropped to the armrest of his throne. “If only I had been there for him, as I am for her now,” he murmured. “Perhaps things would have been different.”

Titania’s heart ached at the pain in her son’s voice. She leaned forward, her tone firm but comforting. “You were fulfilling you duty to the Summer Court, Valorus. None of us could have forseen what would happen.”

He shock his head, his jaw tightening. 

“But I should have known, he constantly asked to stay in the Summer Court with me after Octavia’s death. He was a child who believed he caused the death of his sister. What if we didn’t do enough to help him process those feels… and that is why he ran into the devastation zone.” His hand moved absent mindedly to one pf his braids, a habit from his younger years. “I can’t stop thinking about it, Mother. Did he die knowing we loved him? Or did he believe he was alone?”

Titania hesitated, her regal composure faltering as she reached for the words that could ease his pain. “I don’t believe he died,” she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “My heart tells me he lives.”

Valorous lifted his head, his golden eyes searching her face. “Do you really believe that after all these decades?”

“I do,” Titania said firmly. “Rayner is strong, Valorous. Stronger than any of us gave him credit for. If anyone could survive, it is him.”

Valorous’s brow furrowed, his fingers still tracing the tntricate patterns of his braids. “And if he does live,” he said slowly, “what kind of life could he have found? Would he still be the Rayner we knew?”

“That is a question only he can answer, “Titania replied softly. “But he will always be my son, no matter what has happened.”Silence fell between them, heavy with the weight of unspoken grief. Valorous leaned back in his throne, his gaze distant. “Do you think he would remember the braids?” he asked quietly. 

Titania’s lips pressed into a thin line, her golden eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “But the Fae are not so cruel as to leave him unbraided forever.”

Valorous nodded slowly, though the conflict in his heart remained evident. “I just wish I could have done more to protect him and Octavia…”

“You did what you could, my son,” Titania said, though the words felt hollow even to her. 

Wither and Zephyr entered the council chamber arm in arm, a study in contrasts. Zephyr’s fiery orange curls bounced with each carefree step, her golden eyes sparkling  with untamed joy as she glanced around the room. She seemed utterly oblievious to the intensity of the conversation between Valorous and their Mother. By contrast, Wither, with her short first-kissed hair that cascaded long in the font, was listening intently, her vermillion red eyes darting between their Mother and elder brother. Her lips twitched into a faint smile at the mention of their youngest brother. If their mother believed Rayner lived, then it had to be true. Titania instincts never failed them before. 

“Hi, hi, Momma! Hi, big bro!” Zephyr greeted, her voice light and airy like the autumn breeze.

“Hello, everyone,” Wither said softly, her voice as calm as freshly fallen snow. She glanced around the room. “ Persephone isn’t here yet? She told me she had new dresses for us t owear at the negotiations with the United Empire.”

“Right behind you, little sister,” a melodic voice chimed in, smooth and harmonious as birdsong on a spring morning.

All eyes turned to the Queen of the Spring Court, Percephany, as she stepped gracefully into the chamber. Her pastel pink hair fell in soft ringlets, framing her delicate features, and all four of her arms were busey holding a collection of intricately designed downs. Each one seemed tailored to who would wear them. Perephany, ever the fashionista had once again outdone herself. Today, her love of all forms of gothic attire showed as she wore a victorian inspired gothic style, complete with a high-collared, intricate lace, and a skirt that swept the floor like a blooming flower

“Good morning, everyone,” Percephany said, her tone warm but commanding. “I trust you’re all ready to dazzle the United Empire with our charm, grace, and of course, impeccable fashion!”

Zephyr released Wither’s arm and practically skipped over to Percephy. “Ooh, let me see, let me see!” she exclaimed, her hands fluttering around the gowns like an excited child admiring sweets in a shope window.

Wither, still composed, approach more cautiously, though her gaze softened at the sight of her elder sister. “You’ve been busy again, Percephany ,” she remarked. “But I suppose that is your way of calming your nerves about these negotiations.”

Persephone smiled knowingly, “A fae queen must always be prepared, little sister. And if we’re to stand before the Emperor and Empress of the United Empire, we must look our absolute best.” Her four arms began handing out the dresses. “Besides, I find solace in the creation of beauty.”

Zephyr held up her gown, a rich amber shade with swirling patterns of leaves embroidered in gold thread. “It’s perfect!” she declared, spinning around dramatically. “Don’t you thin, Valorous?”

Valorous, seated nearby, gave her a playful smirk. “I think it suits you, little sister. But maybe keep your feet on the ground this time, I don’t need you knocking over the council table again.”

Zephyr pouted, but Wither’s quiet chuckle drew her attention back. “It’s lovely,” Wither agreed, holding her own gown, a shimmering silver and ice blue creation that seemed to reflect light like freshly fallen snow.

Titania, who had been silently observing her children with a mix of pride and sorrow, finally spoke. “The dresses are beautiful, Persephone, as always. But let’s focus. We’re here to prepare for more than just appearances.” Her voice drew the room’s attention back to the matter at hand.

Wither and Zephyr exchanged a look. Though Zephyr remained outwardly cheerful, Wither could feel her twin’s unease matching her own. Negotiating with the United Empire was one thing, but recovering their stolen artifacts while navigating the ever-tighting grip of the Magistrate would be no easy feat.

Titania took a deep breath, her gaze steady as she addressed her gaze steady as she addressed her gathered children. “As you all know, I was recently contacted by Empress Vanika of the United Empire,” she began, her tone measured but laced with authority. “She shares our belief that the Magistrate must return what they have stolen from us. Furthermore, she mentioned that it would be… satisfying to knock them down a peg.” A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of her lips before her expression returned to its regal calm.

The room murmured in acknowledgment, but Titiania raised a hand to silence them. “There’s more,” she continued. “Her son, Crown Prince Zearik, and his wife, Willow Ravenswood, will be assisting with the negotiations, Both the Empress and the Emperor see this as an opportunity for Zearik to take a significant step forward to lead one day.”

Valorous leaned back in his chair, crossing his muscular arms as he raised an eyebrow. “So the Empire aees this as a trial run for their prince’s leaderships?” His deep voice resonated through the chamber. “I trust Zearik’s intentions, but what makes the Empress think the Magistrate will simply roll over and hand back what they’ve stolen? They rarely act without a fight.”

Wither folded her hands in her lap and added softly, “And if the negotiatoions fail, will the Empire stand with us when the Magistrate inevitably retaliates?”

Titania’s gaze softened as she looked at her children, “The Empress believes that cooperation between our realms is long overdue. She sees the Magistrate’s unchecked arrogance as a theat not only to us, but to the balance of the United Empire itself. This is more than just about our artifacts, it is a chance to build trust between our worlds.”

Zephyr, who had been idly twirling a curl of her hair, finally spoke up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I, for one think it’ll be entertaining, Zearik and Willow? I’ve heard they’re quite the power couple. I wonder who does the talking and who sharpens the swords?”

“Willow sharpens the swords,” Percephany chimed in with a knowing smile. “And quite literally, from what I’ve heard.”

Zephyr laughed. “Then this should be fun to watch.”

Titania let out a quiet sigh, though there was a hint of fondness in her expression. These negotiations are critical. The Empire’s support may be the key to repairing the damage caused by the Magistrate.”