Page 36 of Accidentally Ever After
It was true. In the past weeks, I’d gradually taken on more than just the ceremonial aspects of being a consort. Caelen had begun including me in policy discussions, valuing my “human perspective” on matters ranging from resource management to diplomatic relations. I’d even helped draft a proposal for renewed contact with the mortal realm—carefully regulated, but more open than the current isolationist approach.
“I suppose,” I conceded. “Still, tomorrow feels… big.”
“It is,” he agreed, his hand moving to cup my face. “But we face it together.”
I leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from the contact. Since the Festival of Lights, our connection had deepened in ways that still sometimes surprised me. I could sense his emotions more clearly now, just as he could sense mine—a development that made hiding my occasional doubts increasingly difficult.
“There is something else troubling you,” he said, proving my point. “Something you’re not saying.”
I sighed, moving away to look out the window at the bustling palace grounds below, where servants prepared for the arriving delegations. “I’ve been thinking about home. About Earth.”
Caelen was silent for a moment. “You miss it,” he said finally, a statement rather than a question.
“Parts of it,” I admitted. “Not enough to want to leave permanently,” I added quickly, turning to see the concern in his expression. “But there are things—people—I left behind without any explanation. My business I built from nothing. Friends who probably think I’m dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“I see.” His wings drooped slightly, despite his attempt to maintain a neutral expression. “You wish to return.”
“To visit,” I clarified. “To tie up loose ends. To let people know I’m okay, even if I can’t tell them the whole truth.” I moved back to him, taking his hands in mine. “This is my home now, Caelen. You are my home. I just need… closure, I guess.”
Relief softened his features. “Of course. After the conjunction, we can arrange a brief visit to the mortal realm. I could accompany you, if you wish.”
“I’d like that,” I said, smiling at the thought of introducing Caelen to my world. “Though we’ll need to work on your cover story. ‘Fairy prince’ might raise some eyebrows.”
“I can glamour my appearance,” he reminded me. “Though you would still see my true form.”
“Convenient,” I said, reaching up to trace the elegant point of his ear. “Though I’m quite fond of these.”
He caught my hand, bringing it to his lips. “After tomorrow’s presentation, we can begin planning your visit. The bond will bestrong enough then to allow extended time in the mortal realm without ill effects.”
I nodded, feeling some of my anxiety ease. The prospect of being able to visit Earth, to properly say goodbye to my old life rather than having it abruptly severed, made the permanence of tomorrow’s ceremony less daunting.
“Now,” Caelen said, his tone lightening, “we should review the ceremonial proceedings once more. The Spring Court is particularly attentive to proper protocol.”
I groaned theatrically. “More bowing practice? I thought I finally had the Winter Court reverence down.”
“Indeed you do,” he assured me with a smile. “But the Spring greeting involves a specific hand gesture that—”
A sharp knock interrupted us. Before Caelen could respond, the door burst open, and Lord Faelan strode in, his emerald wings agitated.
“Your Highness,” he said, bowing hastily. “Forgive the intrusion, but this could not wait.”
Since our first meeting at the formal banquet, Lord Faelan had become something of an ally. As leader of the progressive faction at court, he supported Caelen’s more open policies and had been instrumental in gathering support for our proposal on renewed human contact.
“What is it, Faelan?” Caelen asked, instantly alert.
“The king has called an emergency session of the High Council,” Faelan reported, his expression grave. “He claims to have discovered new information regarding the consort bond that requires immediate attention.”
My stomach dropped. “What kind of information?”
Faelan’s eyes met mine, uncharacteristically serious. “I’m not certain, but my sources indicate he plans to challenge the legitimacy of your union before the visiting courts.”
“He cannot,” Caelen said, his wings flaring in anger. “The bond is sanctioned by the matchmakers. It cannot be dissolved without mutual consent.”
“Unless,” Faelan said carefully, “it was formed under false pretenses or coercion.”
The implication hung in the air between us. King Orion had tricked me into signing the marriage contract—a fact that, if presented properly, could potentially invalidate our bond.
“When is this council session?” Caelen demanded, already moving toward the door.
