Page 95 of Dark Fate

I nod, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "Of course he is. Probably charming the pants off of every Fae in sight."

Faderynflashes me a toasty grin as we buddy up toward the throne room, his eyes twinkling with mirth and mischief. I toss a quick smile in return, all the while dodging his gaze so as not to spill the beans on my little spying spree earlier.

As we approach the massive double doors of the throne room, I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin in a show of confidence and determination. I may be a mortal in a world of immortals, but I am also the prophesied savior of the realms, and the pomp and circumstance of the Fae court will not cow me.

Let the games begin.

The throne room is a spectacle to behold—the ceiling soaring sky-high, graced with frescoes that whisper tales of ancient Fae mysteries. Light bathes every inch in a soft glow; shadows don't dare encroach here. The King and Queen perch on their thrones like twin stars brought down from the heavens.

Queen Titania Solariaembodies her title—The Radiant Queen. Her hair flows around her like molten bronze, each strand vibrating with inner light. Her eyes are summer skies come to life, set into a face that speaks of centuries of wisdom held within an eternally youthful visage. Her gown rivals the morning sky—a diaphanous creation in hues of yellow and white chiffon that floats around her slender form as if it has a life of its own.

King Oberon Aurealisis her perfect counterpart—The Light King—tall and slender with sharp features that cut a regal silhouette against his throne. His hair is like strands of pure silver moonlight cascading past broad shoulders, while his eyes hold glints of icy blue ringed with gold that seem almost otherworldly in their intensity.

The space brims with Sun Court Fae, arrayed in pew upon pew—a holy assembly on a supernatural power trip. As we enter, I sense the weight of their gazes locking on us. The murmured chatter abruptly cuts off, like someone hit the mute button on the whole crowd.

I stride down the grand aisle, feeling the intensity of countless eyes trying to bore into our souls. Keeping my cool, I march toward the dais where the King and Queen sit, their gazes fixed upon us.

"Lady Danica," Queen Titania declares, her voice resonating throughout the chamber, melodious and imbued with the comforting warmth of sunlight caressing exposed skin. "We eagerly invite you to recount your journey to our distinguished court. Our esteemedAxilyahas graciously shared some details concerning you and your passage, yet it is from your own words that we wish to learn. Please enlighten us on the nature of your quest and disclose how we might bestow our assistance upon you."

I mentally brace myself for a scene straight out of a Game of Thrones high-stakes intrigue. I've binged enough to know the drill—smile like you know all the secrets, stand like you hold all the cards, and keep your cool like you're the puppet master.

Here goes nothing—I summon my inner Emmy winner and lay on the performance of a lifetime.

I dip into a curtsy, nailing it despite the gown's theatrics, then look up to meet their royal stares. "Your Highnesses," I start, my voice smoother than expected, given the internal acrobatics. "I stand before you not merely as an outsider from a foreign land but as a bearer of both promise and trepidation for our collective futures."

King Oberon leans forward slightly, his gaze piercing yet not unkind. "Speak plainly, Lady Danica," he commands gently.

I lay it all out—the whole wild ride about Azrael's scheme, hobnobbing with Morty, the creeping darkness looking to RSVP to the end-of-world party, and this crown of mine that likes to play peekaboo, equipped with more tricks than I can wrap my head around. I spill aboutRhylandand our cosmic connection that's basically laughing in the face of Father Time, and I map out my epic quest hitchhiking across the seven realms to snag thestones—because apparently, it's the realms' VIP ticket to beating the dark and hitting save on our collective asses.

"I am, believe it or not, the direct descendant ofElysiumhimself." Yeah, it's not your everyday family tree, and I half-wonder if they'll buy the revelation or if I'll need to bust out some celestial birth certificate as proof.

Their faces serve as an ever-changing canvas as I talk, painting a vivid picture of curiosity, worry, and comprehension. It's like watching clouds drift across the sun, each emotion casting a different shade over their regal features.

"May we ask you to prove your power? That you are indeed who you say you are…" King Oberon inclines, raising his brow in a silent challenge.

I knew this would be a requirement perFaderyn's explanation of these Fae and what they represent. They are beings of power and magic, and they will not accept my claim without tangible proof of my own abilities.

So, with a deep breath, I reach within myself, tapping into the wellspring of power that thrums through my veins like liquid starlight. I conjure my light, feeling it build and grow within me until it bursts forth from my hands in a dazzling display of radiance.

First, I show my white fire, letting it wreathe my hands in a shimmering aura of pure energy. The flames dance and flicker, casting eerie shadows on the throne room's walls, but I keep them controlled with steady breaths and an iron will.

Then, I shape the light into a sphere, molding it like clay between my palms until it glows with an inner luminescence that rivals the sun itself. With a wink and a playful grin, I blow the sphere towards the King and Queen like a bubble, watching as it floats gracefully through the air before resting above their heads.

The Fae monarchs stare at the sphere in wonder, their eyes wide with awe and perhaps a hint of trepidation. Of course, they have seen magic before—they are creatures of magic themselves—but it's been cut off to all Fae, and they've never seen it like this and never wielded by a mortal with such ease and mastery.

I can feel the weight of their gazes on me, the pressure of their expectations, and their doubts. But I stand tall and proud, my chin lifted and my eyes shining with the light of my own conviction.

There is a moment of stunned silence, broken only by the soft rustling of fabric as the Fae shift in their seats. And then, slowly but surely, a murmur of excitement and anticipation begins to build, growing louder and more insistent with each passing second.

"The prophecy is true," someone whispers, their voice trembling with barely contained emotion.

"The savior has come at last," comes another voice.

This is my moment, my chance to prove myself worthy of the title that has been bestowed upon me.

And I will not let it pass me by.

With a final flourish, I release the sphere of light, letting it dissipate into a shower of glittering motes that rain down upon the assembled Fae like stardust. And as they gaze up at me with a mix of wonder and respect, I know that I have passed their test—that I have proven myself to be the savior they have been waiting for.

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