Page 24 of Accidentally Ever After
“Instructor Thaelon,” I admitted. “Though I still mix up the Spring Court salute with the Summer Court greeting.”
“An understandable confusion. They are needlessly similar,” he said with a dismissive wave. “Tell me, Consort Morgan, how are you finding our realm? Is it as the human stories depict?”
“Not exactly,” I said, relaxing slightly at his friendly tone. “Fewer tiny people with butterfly wings, more intimidating politics and complicated table settings.”
He laughed again, seeming genuinely amused. “Human stories rarely capture the tedium of court life, do they? It’s all dancing under moonlight and granting wishes.”
“The dancing part is accurate, at least,” I said, glancing toward the center of the hall where couples still moved in complex patterns.
“Indeed.” His eyes followed my gaze, then returned to me with new interest. “The prince’s display during the opening dance was… unprecedented. Flying during the ceremonial exchange is not typically done.”
I shrugged, unsure how politically to respond. “Caelen thought it would be easier for me.”
“Caelen,” Lord Faelan repeated, raising an eyebrow at my use of the prince’s given name. “Such informality. How… refreshing.”
I mentally kicked myself for the slip. “His Highness,” I corrected belatedly.
“No, no,” Faelan said, waving away my correction. “I find it charming. The court could use more authentic connection and less rigid formality.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Between us, many of the younger nobles share that view.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. “I got the impression everyone here worshipped tradition.”
“Not everyone,” he assured me. “Some of us recognize the need for our realm to evolve. To perhaps… reconnect with the mortal world in ways beyond occasional amusement.”
The political implications weren’t lost on me, even with my limited understanding of fairy politics. “That sounds like a potentially controversial position.”
“Change always is,” he agreed. “Which is why your presence here is so significant. A human consort to the prince suggests new possibilities, new connections between realms.”
Before I could respond to this intriguing revelation, another fairy approached—this one female, with butterfly wings in shades of sunset orange and copper hair that seemed to move of its own accord.
“Lord Faelan,” she said, her voice like warm honey. “Monopolizing the prince’s consort? How unlike you to be so bold.”
“Lady Sorcha,” Faelan greeted her with a slight bow. “I was merely introducing myself to our realm’s newest addition.”
“Of course you were,” she said with a knowing smile. Her eyes turned to me, warm and curious. “Consort Morgan, I am Lady Sorcha of the Amber Citadel. Your performance this evening has been most… illuminating.”
“Thank you?” I said, not entirely sure if it was a compliment.
“It was meant as one,” she assured me, correctly reading my uncertainty. “Few would have handled Lady Ellaria’s barbs with such composure, especially one new to court.”
“Or returned them so elegantly,” Faelan added with a grin. “Your response at the high table was masterful.”
I felt myself relaxing further as I realized these two, at least, seemed genuinely friendly rather than hostile or coldly assessing.
“I’m still learning the rules,” I admitted. “Sometimes I worry I’ll say the wrong thing and end up as a frog.”
They both laughed, though Lady Sorcha’s eyes widened slightly. “Has someone threatened transformation?” she asked, suddenly serious.
“Not explicitly,” I said quickly. “It’s just something I worry about.”
“Such magic would require royal sanction,” Faelan said, his tone reassuring. “And I doubt Prince Caelen would permit it, regardless of his father’s wishes.”
“Speaking of His Highness,” Sorcha said, glancing across the hall, “he appears to be looking for you, Consort Morgan. And he does not seem pleased to find you in our company.”
I followed her gaze to see Caelen making his way toward us, his expression carefully neutral but his wings held stiffly in what I now recognized as concern or possibly irritation.
“Is there a problem with me talking to you?” I asked, confused.
Faelan and Sorcha exchanged glances. “Let’s just say that those who favor more progressive policies are not always in favor with the king,” Faelan explained delicately.
