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“I have claimed this realm, and thus I have the power of Time on my side,” he says, procuring a branch laden with white flowers. “Begone, dark prince! Return to the shadows.”

He shakes the branch at me and fragrant petals fill the air. I shield my face and pretend to shrink away. The kids laugh. Defeated, I slink off stage. Lysander prowls the stage gracefully, making new wooden ‘flowers’ sprout up with his magical branch. The spotlight follows them, occasionally catching on the glitter in his hair. In the wings, Larch works the mechanism that gets them to pop up from the floor.

I wink at him as I don the dark cape studded with crystals. “Almost time for my surprise attack.”

“Better you than me,” he murmurs with a smile.

When Lysander is lifted into his bower, I sneak into the meadow once again. This time I grasp the scepter and my dark magic sucks the light from the whole room, turning the hall black. The kids — and some of the adults — gasp in unison as tiny winking lights suddenly spin across the midnight blue cloth we draped over the ceiling of the ballroom, creating stars. I chortle into my microphone and the Night Prince’s theme comes to a crescendo.

After a few more back-and-forth struggles, we battle, each of us trying to control the meadow. Neither of us can win because we’re perfectly matched. The battle turns into a frenzy of flowers popping up and dying and trees rapidly growing and losing their leaves. Other actors join us on stage to represent the people of each realm, begging us to find a resolution.

Eventually, the Night Prince and the Fairy King come to an agreement to share Time.

Best of all, the agreement is sealed with a kiss.

Well, in the myth it’s a lot more than a kiss. After apassionatebattle they basically give in to lust, as far as I gather, but in the kid-friendly version it’s a sweet peck. Lysander smilesagainst my lips as I wind an arm around his waist. When he pulls back, I dip him and steal another one.

The curtain comes down and he laughs breathlessly, one hand in my hair and the other snaking up my chest as I cup his ass and deepen the kiss. He groans.

“Curtain’s going up again!” Larch hisses, and we separate hurriedly.

I’m sure anyone with eyes knows exactly what we were doing. I hold Lysander’s hand proudly as the rest of the cast assembles on stage behind us. The hall is filled with monsters, lots of them my friends and community — something I never dreamed of before I walked into The Sanctum. Fitzie and my parents stand and cheer from the front row. Syril and Elsabeth are in the makeshift VIP box we set up, and I even spot Bear in the shadows behind them. Plato, Orion, and Lilian are behind us on stage, of course. And I swear in the very back row I can make out the familiar horned shape of a certain Watcher and the human who set me on the path to this crazy world.

Lysander’s fingers tangle with mine. This time it’s his hand on my collar dragging me down, his soft lips clinging to mine, his heartbeat under my palm, and as more flower petals rain down on us he whispers, “Thank you.”

I break the kiss and take the little velvet box out of my pocket.