Page 20 of Accidentally Ever After (Wings & Whispers #1)

“Hold still,” Melronna admonished, adjusting the silver circlet on my brow for the third time. “The ceremonial headpiece must sit precisely at the correct angle.”

“It feels like it’s going to fall off if I breathe too hard,” I complained, resisting the urge to fidget. After six months as royal consort, I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the more elaborate formal attire.

“It is secured with enchantment,” she assured me, stepping back to assess her work. “Though your human hair does present certain challenges.”

I caught my reflection in the mirror and barely recognized myself.

The formal attire for the Winter Solstice celebration was even more elaborate than usual—midnight blue and silver, with intricate embroidery that seemed to move of its own accord, catching the light like living things.

The open-backed design had become my signature style at court, a nod to Caelen’s wings while showcasing what he insisted were my “exceptionally appealing shoulders.”

“Will His Highness approve?” Melronna asked, making final adjustments to the drape of the ceremonial cape.

“Caelen approves of me in pretty much anything,” I said with a smile. “Though he’ll probably approve of me out of these clothes even more once the celebration ends.”

Melronna’s wings fluttered in what I now recognized as amused embarrassment. “Consort Morgan, such comments are not appropriate before a formal function.”

“Sorry,” I said, not sorry at all. “Human humor.”

Six months after the Spring Conjunction and the dramatic events surrounding it, I had settled into my role as royal consort with surprising ease.

Once my memories had returned following the Unbinding Ritual, I had embraced my position with new certainty, secure in the knowledge that I had chosen this life twice—once with all my memories, and once with none.

King Orion had been quietly furious at his failed attempt to separate us, but with the four courts having formally recognized our union, there was little he could do.

Over the months, he had maintained a cold civility, while Caelen and I had thrown ourselves into implementing the changes we believed would benefit the realm.

Chief among these was establishing cautious new connections with the human world.

Under our proposal, carefully selected humans with natural affinity for fairy magic were being introduced to the existence of the Seelie Realm through controlled interactions.

The program was small but growing, creating bridges between worlds that hadn’t existed for centuries.

I had also made good on my promise to visit Earth, with Caelen accompanying me glamoured as a human.

We had settled my affairs, explaining my sudden absence to friends with a plausible story about an unexpected opportunity abroad.

I had sold my catering business to my assistant, who had been running it successfully in my absence, and kept my apartment as a base for future visits.

Watching Caelen experience human culture had been both hilarious and touching—his fascination with pizza (“These flavors are remarkably complex!”), his confusion over public transportation (“Why would anyone choose this over flying?”), his delight in cinema (“Images that move AND tell stories? Brilliant!”).

Through his eyes, I had rediscovered the wonder in my own world.

But the fairy realm—Caelen’s realm—had truly become home. My days were filled with purpose now, divided between ceremonial duties as consort and the more meaningful work of cultural exchange that we were pioneering together.

“The guests are assembling in the Great Hall,” Melronna reported, breaking into my thoughts. “The king awaits, and Prince Caelen is completing his own preparations.”

“Thank you, Melronna,” I said, making one final adjustment to my circlet. “I’m ready.”

As I made my way through the palace corridors, courtiers bowed respectfully—a far cry from the suspicious stares of my early days.

I had earned my place here, not just as Caelen’s consort but as a valuable voice in court affairs.

Even some of the traditionally conservative factions had come to appreciate my “unique human perspective,” as they diplomatically phrased it.

The Winter Solstice celebration was one of the most important events in the fairy calendar, marking the longest night of the year and the slow return of light. Traditions dictated that the royal family lead the realm in honoring both darkness and light, acknowledging their eternal balance.

I found Caelen waiting for me outside the Great Hall, resplendent in formal attire that matched mine but incorporated elaborate armor over the chest and shoulders.

His hair was braided intricately with silver threads that caught the light, and a circlet more substantial than mine rested on his brow.

His wings were groomed to perfection, the iridescent membranes seeming to glow from within.

“You take my breath away,” he said when he saw me, his wings extending slightly in that way that still made my heart skip. “Every time.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Your Highness,” I replied with a smile. “Though this outfit weighs about twenty pounds. How do you manage the armor?”

“Centuries of practice,” he said dryly. “And fairy physiology helps.”

He offered his arm, and I placed my hand on it, the familiar gesture now second nature. “Ready to celebrate the darkest night of the year?” I asked.

“With you by my side? Always.” His expression grew more serious. “Though I should warn you, my father has invited several potential matches for my sister. There may be some… political maneuvering tonight.”

Princess Lyra, Caelen’s younger sister, had recently returned from an extended diplomatic mission to the Summer Court. Her impending marriage was a hot topic at court, with various factions pushing their preferred candidates.

“I’ll keep my diplomatic hat on,” I promised. “No ‘sassing’ the important visitors.”

His lips curved. “A pity. Your sassing is one of your most charming qualities.”

“I’ll save it for private,” I assured him.

The Great Hall had been transformed for the solstice celebration.

The usually crystalline walls were draped in midnight blue fabric studded with silver stars that actually twinkled.

The ceiling appeared to have been replaced by a vista of the night sky, constellations swirling in patterns unlike any visible from Earth.

Floating lights in silver and blue drifted through the air like sentient fireflies, illuminating the space with gentle radiance.

As we entered, a hush fell over the assembled courtiers and visitors from other realms. The herald announced us with typical fairy flourish, and we processed to the high table where King Orion already sat, looking regal and remote as always.

“Father,” Caelen greeted him with a formal bow, which I mirrored. “The preparations are magnificent.”

“The Winter Court representatives were particularly impressed,” the king replied, his tone neutral. “Their ambassador commented on the authenticity of the starscape.”

Small talk with the king was always a careful dance of formality and underlying tension.

Since his failed attempt to dissolve our bond, relations had been cordial but cool.

He had accepted our union legally but still seemed to view me as a temporary inconvenience rather than a permanent addition to the royal family.

Princess Lyra joined us, her arrival causing another stir among the gathered fairies.

Unlike her brother and father, Lyra had inherited her mother’s golden coloring—honey-blonde hair, amber eyes, and wings in shades of gold and amber that caught the light like polished metal.

Her solstice attire was similar to mine but in gold and deep green, colors that complemented her warm tones.

“Brother,” she greeted Caelen warmly, embracing him. “And Blake!” She turned to me with genuine affection. “You look absolutely regal. Court life clearly agrees with you.”

“It’s growing on me,” I agreed, returning her embrace. Lyra had been an unexpected ally from her return to court, embracing me as family without reservation. “Though I’m still learning. Your brother is a patient teacher.”

“In some areas more than others, I imagine,” she said with a wink that made me blush.

“Lyra,” Caelen admonished, though his wings fluttered in amusement. “Decorum, please.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked cheerfully. “Besides, you should see the lineup of suitors Father has arranged to parade before me tonight. I’ll need allies to fend them off.”

“You might find one to your liking,” the king interjected, having overheard. “Lord Kieran of the Winter Court brings an impressive lineage and strategic advantages.”

Lyra’s wings stiffened slightly. “I’m sure he’s fascinating, Father. Though I find I’m developing a fondness for unconventional matches.” She winked at me again. “They seem to work out rather well.”

The king’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly, but before he could respond, the ceremonial horns sounded, signaling the beginning of the formal proceedings.

The Winter Solstice ritual was beautiful in its solemnity.

King Orion led the court in acknowledging the darkness, extinguishing the floating lights one by one until the hall was illuminated only by the magical starscape above.

In the near-darkness, he spoke the ancient words of recognition, honoring the night and its necessary place in the cycle of existence.

Then came Caelen’s role, as heir to the throne. He stepped forward, wings fully extended, and called to the light to return. As he spoke words in the ancient fairy tongue, the stars above began to pulse more brightly, casting his figure in silver radiance.