a faery's child

It was only through travel that Carys had learned that she was a homebody. There was no denying the magnificence of the other courts, but there was always a part of her that yearned to be back in the familiarity of her home. Still, she knew it was her duty to be present, and so, she milled about as best as she could, offering smiles and light conversation as she passed.

After making her rounds, she settled into a corner of the room, feeling a bit of relief to have a moment to breathe. The moment was fleeting though, and her face lit up once more as she was approached. “I do hope you don’t find me rude to be hiding here.”

Although she was quite enjoying herself, Aurelia kept an eye out to watch what her sister-in-law was doing. She loved Carys very much, and wanted to be sure that she wasn’t overwhelmed or uncomfortable. So when she watched the other girl move into the corner, Aurelia was quick to excuse herself from her conversation and follow her. “You know I could never find you to be rude no matter what you did!” Aurelia said, reaching to take Carys’s hand for a quick squeeze. “Are you enjoying yourself? It’s quite exciting to see so many of the other royal families here.”

Carys had made the rounds that were expected, curtseying and offering smiles to the various royals and nobility that had gathered. It was exciting to have the entire realm gathered, even if it was for a somber occasion, but, in the moment, she was craving some sense of familiarity. She strained her neck, trying to spot a family member in the crowd. Aurelia, it seemed, was flourishing, and her brothers were no where to be found.

Instead, her eyes fell on a guard from the Dawn Court, one who had accompanied them for their journey. The two had made small acquaintances back at home, as he was usually on duty when she was making her way to the stables. Making her way over, she quickly shook her head at his inquiry. “No, no, not at all.” She glanced back to the crowd, before offering a light smile. “I must admit, I was not blessed with a comfort in crowds. It’s nice to see familiar faces among them.” The thought suddenly struck her that she might be impeding on Alistair’s own evening, surely even a guard deserved a bit of fun. “You must shoo me away if I’m interrupting your evening, though,” she added hastily.

Alistair’s posture relaxed a fraction as the princess spoke; if she wasn’t in danger, then he didn’t need to worry. It wasn’t usual for her to seek out his company - tonight he would have thought there were many other, better conversations to have - but it wasn’t too unexpected either. “I’m don’t take much comfort in crowds either, your highness. Likely for different reasons though.” To his own surprise, he cracked a small smile at that. 

“No,” he added quickly, glancing back at the princess from where he’d been looking for her brothers. “I was sent to watch the family. I believe this conversation falls under that description.”

“King Beron was not a man who liked to share. If something was worth having, he wanted to keep it to himself.” He poured out two glasses and slid one across the table to his wife before taking a sip of his own. “Mm, divine. At some point I should speak to Queen Elara and see if she’s willing to part with a case.”

Perhaps he was behaving a little too happily for a memorial service, but Rhys hadn’t had a sad day since he’d married Arian and it was difficult to keep that hidden. He was also well aware of the worry that must have been on his wife’s mind, because he shared it. Rhys set down his glass and took Arian’s hands into his own. “He’s not here yet. Even his own citizens aren’t certain when he’ll turn up.”

Arian reached for the glass and sipped the wine curiously; it was very good and she hoped that the queen would allow them to bring some back with them. “I still think it seems foolish to disregard such a lucrative opportunity,” she said, shrugging; maybe the queen would be more interested in that idea than the king had been. Arian didn’t know anything about either of them. 

She did know her husband, and his words of encouragement were very much appreciated. Squeezing his hand, she shifted a little closer to him; even when they first met, she had felt unified with him - here it felt almost like it was them - plus Oralie - against the world. “I’m not sure I’m ready to see him,” she admitted, glancing over her shoulder. “Do you think I have any hope he’ll just skip it? Or ignore us, if nothing else?”

It was only then that Elric noted the guard’s uniform. “Ah, quite right.”

Studying the man more carefully, Elric realised that he knew the uniform well from all the years he had spent waiting around the guard’s barracks for his father to finish his duty. “Oh good, I wasn’t sure if there were any other Dawn Court residents here. I assume you’re accompanying the Dageraad’s?” He was friendly with the royal family but he had been travelling for a long time and it had been a while since he had last seen them.

Perhaps that had been too abrupt, although Alistair didn’t care much if his manner displeased a total stranger. “Yes, I accompanied the royal family. They’re all mingling.” He gestured to where he could see at least the princesses nearby. “I was the one assigned duty tonight.” Even if one of the other guards had offered to swap places, Alistair didn’t think he would have been at ease anywhere else. Once this was finished though, he wouldn’t mind a chance to explore. “I’m Alistair Maddox.”

“I think a deep red velvet would make lovely curtains, and a dress all in gold would compliment some of my more extravagant jewellery nicely.” She pursed her lips in thought, then seemed to shake herself out of her little designing daydream. “Forgive me, how rude.” She held out a hand, each nail perfectly manicured and delicate gold bracelet draped elegantly around her wrist. “Lady Rosalia Swann of the Spring Court.”

Both of those options seemed quite right, although Aurelia couldn’t speak to the other woman’s jewelry taste. Gold wouldn’t be out of place at home though; perhaps she could look for something to bring back with her as well. It only seemed fitting to support the court while she was here. “It’s lovely to meet you, Lady Rosalia. I’m Princess Aurelia Dageraad, of the Dawn Court.” She gently shook Rosalia’s hand. “Have you been to the Autumn Court before? I confess, aside from my move to the Dawn Court from the Day Court, I haven’t done very much traveling.”

Elara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Everyone was offering her their sympathies and sad looks for the loss of her husband, but where had these people been when Beron had been so disgusting with her in life? No one had stepped in to stop him when he spoke cruelly to her or demanded she obey his every wish. “I have made my peace with my husband’s death. It is my son I worry for.” She couldn’t see him anywhere and assumed he was sulking in his room. “He has had to cope with the loss of his father and a throne in such a short space of time.”

Uncorking a bottle, Elara poured a glass of the vintage red for her guest. “This was Beron’s favourite. It seemed only fitting to serve at his memorial.”

Aurelia nodded thoughtfully; it would be difficult to deal with all the upheaval, no doubt, and there was the added layer of how the Autumn Court dealt with the line of succession. But in her opinion, it certainly couldn’t hurt to have a woman on the throne, someone with more experience. But she wasn’t really sure how to word a response and decided not to try to come up with something that could potentially be offensive. 

“Oh, that looks quite lovely,” she murmured, taking the glass. She certainly was curious to see if it would live up to its reputation so she inclined it toward the queen in a salute before sipping - and it did live up to its reputation. Maybe the queen would be more amenable to parting with it than the king had been. “It’s a lovely tribute to him.”

Alistair had been eyeing Princess Aurelia, who seemed to be like a butterfly fluttering from flower to flower as she moved from one person to another, and didn’t realize Princess Carys was approaching him until she was right there. “Your highness,” he said curiously, glancing around to see if it looked like anyone was following her. “Is something wrong?”

He obviously didn’t know the royal family personally; as a guard, he knew his place. Princess Carys was a little different - her daily rides coincided with the end of his shift on watch, and he had become used to seeing her on a daily basis. It wasn’t a friendship by any stretch but it was a little less surprising to be approached by her than it might have been with anyone else.

Elric had not known the deceased king well, in fact he had only met the man once. When he had been travelling through the courts some years ago, he had stayed at the palace to learn from their resident healer when one of the king’s hunting companions had been brought into the infirmary with an arrow in the shoulder. Elric remembered that Beron had barked orders at the healer while Elric assisted, but the king had held his wounded friend’s hand the entire time and he had clearly been desperate to make sure his injuries were treated. Quite a different men to some of the stories Elric had heard whispered around the room.

“All seven courts gathering to remember one man.” He sighed and looked to the person next to him. “Did you know King Beron well?”

Alistair knew many of his colleagues thought he was lucky to be on duty now but he would prefer almost anything to this. Their formal uniforms were far less comfortable than he liked, and being surrounded by royals he didn’t know made him antsy. He’d found an unobtrusive place where he could observe and keep an eye on the whole family and hopefully avoid inane small talk.

That hope died quickly as he heard the voice. He glanced to the side and studied the man for a moment before shaking his head. “I didn’t know him at all. I’m only here to do my job.”

As much as she loved her home, the chance to visit another court was always thrilling for Rosalia. A season other than Spring was always fun to experience, and it gave her the chance to try out the fashions of another court. A dead king’s memorial might not have seemed the place to make a fashion statement, but Rosalia revelled in her beauty and wanted all eyes on her. The better a prize she made herself seem, the more likely she was to get her own king’s attention. 

“The colours of the Autumn Court are so vibrant, don’t you think? I will have to purchase some deep red and gold fabrics whilst I am here to take home with me.”

“The colors are lovely,” Aurelia said in agreement. She personally gravitated more toward pastels and wouldn’t want to implement this in her own spaces but it made for a nice change. “Would the fabrics be for dresses or for decorations in your home?” 

This event was worse than Elara could have possible imagined. She had thought this would all be over with Beron’s private funeral last month, but no, her advisers insisted upon a public memorial for all the courts to pay their respects. The last thing Elara wanted was to indulge in the lie that her husband had been a good man and a good king when he had been a tyrant that had held her captive for so many years. And now the bastard was holding her captive from beyond the grave and trapping her in the role of a grieving widow.

“Thank you for coming. Please, do indulge, it is what Beron would have wanted.” She had to hide her smirk at that. Beron had loathed all of the other courts, and would turn in his grave at the thought of them gulping down the bottles of expensive wine he had kept reserved for himself.

“Oh, your majesty -” Aurelia dropped a curtsy politely, as she had been taught. She was a princess now but the ideals of respect still applied, and she had no desire to bring trouble to the Dawn Court by being rude. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she added with a sympathetic look. “I hope the memorial will bring some peace for your family.”

She glanced curiously at the wine; she had heard of the wine here, so she couldn’t pass up the chance to try it. “I think I could hardly pass up the chance to taste your wine.”

There was always so much tension between the courts that any event that brought them all together was usually far too uncomfortable to bear for very long. But this was a memorial service where no one had to plaster on a fake smile - in fact, it would look even stranger if they did. Then again, Rhys wasn’t sure if anyone had been a fan of Beron’s, he knew he certainly wasn’t. The man had been a pompous tyrant and there had even been rumours that he was plotting to branch out and seize the territory of other courts, so his death had come at no great loss to Rhysand. Still, he was a king and he would come to pay his respects to the family that had lost their loved one.

“I see they brought out the good wine for this.” He said as he poured himself a glass, and then another for the person who had joined him at the table. “Make the most of it. The Autumn Court wine is delicious, but they never allow it to be drunk outside their court.”

Arian had stepped away from her husband briefly when they arrived at the reception; her family didn’t travel when she was younger, and she wanted to take a moment to absorb her new surroundings. However, she didn’t like the idea of being away from Rhys for too long - no doubt her former fiancé would be around here somewhere and when she faced him, she wanted to do so from the safety of her husband’s arm. Smiling, she moved to join him at the table and glanced over the array of wines. 

“Why not? If it’s so good, wouldn’t it be a lucrative opportunity to sell it?”