Page 21 of Accidentally Ever After (Wings & Whispers #1)

It was my first time witnessing this ceremony, and despite knowing the basic outline, I found myself breathless at the beauty of it.

Watching Caelen in his ceremonial role, commanding light with the power of his birthright, I felt again that surge of pride and love that sometimes still caught me by surprise.

How did I get so lucky? I wondered, not for the first time.

After the formal ritual concluded, the celebration shifted to a more festive atmosphere. Music filled the hall, fairies from all courts mingled freely, and servants circulated with beverages that glowed and food that sometimes moved on the plate.

“You did beautifully,” I told Caelen when he returned to my side. “Very commanding. Very princely.”

“Did I impress my consort?” he asked with a smile, his hand finding the small of my back in that possessive gesture I’d grown to love.

“Very much so. You might get lucky later.”

His wings fluttered subtly. “Something to look forward to.”

As the evening progressed, I found myself drawn into various diplomatic conversations, many centered around our human-fairy exchange initiative. The program had generated significant interest, especially among the younger generations of fairies who found human culture fascinating.

“Consort Morgan,” Lady Sorcha greeted me, her sunset wings particularly vibrant against her deep green solstice attire.

“Your proposal for expanding the cultural exchange to include artistic collaborations is gaining support in the Spring Court. Our craftmasters are particularly intrigued by human ‘technology’ and its creative applications.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” I said sincerely. “There’s so much potential for mutual enrichment.”

“Indeed. Though some still harbor concerns about increased human awareness of our realm.” Her expression grew more serious. “The traditional secrecy has protected us for millennia.”

“Controlled exchange doesn’t mean throwing open the doors,” I assured her. “Just carefully building bridges where both sides benefit.”

“An elegant metaphor,” came a new voice—Lord Faelan, approaching with two goblets of glowing blue liquid. He offered one to me with a slight bow. “Your human perspective continues to refresh our sometimes stagnant discourse.”

I accepted the drink with thanks, noting how Faelan and Sorcha stood slightly closer together than strict formality required.

Their alliance, both political and apparently personal, had strengthened over recent months, creating a progressive bloc that increasingly counterbalanced the king’s traditionalist faction.

“Have you had the pleasure of meeting the Winter Court ambassador yet?” Sorcha asked, gesturing subtly toward a tall fairy with wings like frosted glass. “He carries significant influence with their High Council.”

I recognized the diplomatic prompt for what it was. “Not yet. Perhaps you might introduce us?”

The next hour was a carefully choreographed dance of introductions, subtle alliance-building, and diplomatic groundwork for our initiatives.

I had become adept at this aspect of court life, learning to navigate the complex undercurrents of fairy politics while maintaining human directness when it served our purposes.

Throughout the evening, I was conscious of Caelen’s presence across the hall, even when we were separated by duties.

The bond between us had only strengthened over the months, allowing a constant awareness of each other that transcended ordinary perception.

Occasionally our eyes would meet across the crowded space, a private moment of connection amid the ceremonial obligations.

It was during one such moment, as I was concluding a conversation with a Summer Court dignitary, that I noticed a commotion near the main entrance. Heads turned, conversations paused, and a ripple of surprise moved through the gathering.

Lady Ellaria had arrived—fashionably late as was her custom—but it wasn’t her entrance causing the stir. It was her companion: a human man, clearly nervous but attempting to match her regal bearing.

“Well,” Lord Faelan murmured beside me, “this is unexpected.”

“She brought a human date?” I asked, not bothering to hide my surprise. Lady Ellaria had been one of the most vocal opponents of human-fairy integration, and certainly no friend to me.

“It appears so,” Sorcha confirmed, her wings fluttering with undisguised interest. “How… progressive of her.”

I watched as Ellaria guided her companion through the crowd, accepting greetings with practiced grace while the human beside her looked increasingly overwhelmed. I recognized the expression all too well—I had worn it myself during my early days at court.

Without consciously deciding to, I found myself moving toward them. Caelen intercepted me halfway, his expression a mixture of amusement and concern.

“Are you planning what I think you’re planning?” he asked quietly.

“He looks like he needs rescuing,” I said simply. “I remember what that feels like.”

His wing brushed against my back in a subtle caress. “Your compassion remains one of your most admirable qualities. Even toward those who haven’t earned it.”

Together, we approached Lady Ellaria and her human guest. Her expression when she saw us approaching was priceless—a complex mixture of disdain, resignation, and what might have been grudging respect.

“Your Highness, Consort Morgan,” she greeted us with a perfect curtsy. “How gracious of you to welcome us personally.”

“Lady Ellaria,” Caelen acknowledged with a slight nod. “We could hardly fail to greet such an… intriguing arrival.”

Her companion bowed awkwardly, clearly having received some hasty coaching in fairy etiquette. “Your Highness,” he managed, his voice steady despite his obvious nervousness. “An honor.”

“And you are?” I asked directly, extending my hand in human fashion rather than the fairy greeting he was struggling to execute.

Relief flashed across his face as he took my hand. “David Chen. I’m a, uh, professor of comparative mythology at Oxford. Lady Ellaria and I met during her research visit to the human archives.”

I raised an eyebrow at Ellaria. “Research visit? How fascinating. I wasn’t aware you had an interest in human scholarship.”

A faint flush colored her perfect features. “Recent developments suggested that a more… informed perspective on human culture might be beneficial.”

“Indeed,” Caelen said neutrally, though I could feel his amusement through our bond. “Professor Chen, as the first human consort to the Autumn Court, Blake has unique insight into the transition between realms. Perhaps he might offer some guidance during your visit.”

It was a diplomatic masterstroke—simultaneously extending courtesy while reminding Ellaria of my official position and making it clear we recognized her guest as a temporary visitor rather than a potential rival consort.

“That would be incredible,” David said eagerly, before Ellaria could respond.

“I have so many questions about the integration process and cultural differences. My research focuses on how mythological narratives shape cultural identity, and this experience is unprecedented access to what we thought was purely fictional realm!”

His genuine academic enthusiasm was endearing, and I found myself warming to him despite his association with Ellaria. “I’d be happy to share my experiences,” I offered. “Though I’m still learning myself.”

“A mutual exchange of perspectives, then,” he suggested. “I could share observations from my scholarly background while learning from your practical experience.”

Ellaria looked like she was reconsidering her choice of companion, but rallied admirably. “How collaborative. The professor has been most helpful in identifying human records of fairy contact throughout history.”

“A worthy project,” Caelen acknowledged. “Perhaps relevant to our own exchange initiatives.”

The conversation continued in this vein—superficially cordial but layered with subtexts that I had learned to recognize as quintessentially fairy.

By the time we moved on to greet other guests, I had extracted a promise from David to meet for a proper conversation, much to Ellaria’s barely concealed chagrin.

“That was unexpected,” I commented to Caelen as we made our way through the crowd. “Ellaria with a human academic? After all her speeches about maintaining ‘fairy purity’?”

“Politics makes strange bedfellows,” he replied with a slight smile. “Though I suspect there may be more personal motivations at play as well.”

“You think she actually likes him?” I asked, surprised by the notion.

“It would explain much about her recent moderation on certain issues,” he observed. “And provide an elegant solution to her loss of status after our union was confirmed.”

I considered this. “If you can’t beat them, join them?”

“Something like that,” he agreed. “Though I suspect she would phrase it as ‘strategic adaptation to changing circumstances.’”

The evening continued with dancing, more diplomatic conversations, and the elaborate feast that was traditional for solstice celebrations. Throughout it all, I found myself reflecting on how much had changed in the months since I’d first arrived in this realm.

What had begun as a disastrous misunderstanding—signing a magical contract thinking it was a catering invoice—had evolved into something I would never have imagined possible.

I had a purpose here, a position of influence, and most importantly, a relationship that fulfilled me in ways I hadn’t known I needed.

As the celebration wound toward its conclusion, Caelen and I found a moment of relative privacy in one of the small alcoves off the main hall. His wing curled around me, creating that intimate space that still felt like sanctuary after all this time.

“You’re contemplative tonight,” he observed, his finger tracing the line of my jaw. “Second thoughts about your fairy tale life?”

“Just the opposite,” I assured him, leaning into his touch. “I was thinking how grateful I am for that misunderstanding at the wedding. Best mistake I ever made.”

His smile was radiant. “I maintain it was not a mistake at all, but destiny.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I conceded, something I rarely did on this particular topic. “The matchmakers do seem to know what they’re doing.”

“Indeed they do,” he agreed, leaning down to brush his lips against mine. “Though I believe we deserve some credit for making it work despite the… unconventional beginning.”

“Definitely,” I said, rising on tiptoes to kiss him properly. “We make a good team, Your Highness.”

“The best,” he murmured against my lips. “My cherished consort.”

As we rejoined the celebration, hand in hand and perfectly in step, I reflected that “accidentally ever after” had turned out to be exactly where I was meant to be all along.