Page 6

CHAPTER FIVE

JORGE

Fifteen years old

T he chandeliers of the dining hall glowed with the flickering light of glass crystals that caught and scattered the golden hues of the two suns.

My tray was balanced carefully in my hands, each step measured as I moved from one fairy dignitary to the next, refilling goblets and clearing empty plates.

I kept my head down, as I always did. It was safer that way. With Olric and Dain long gone, I'd been able to breathe easier these last three years. I could sleep without one eye open, my body braced for their next cruel prank.

The fairies barely noticed me—a human in their midst was as unremarkable as the tarnished cutlery they used to adorn their gilded table. And yet as I set a plate in front of one of the guests, I caught sight of a faint stain on its edge—a dull smear marring the sheen of the supposed gold.

It wasn't real gold. It was just an alloy. Evergrove Manor had sold off all its gold years ago, after King Oriven had died. Queen Indira's expenses had gone unchecked, and they were tendrils away from bankruptcy these days.

She might have driven her people to ruin entirely if not for a twist of fate.

Another kingdom's chamberlain had stumbled upon my designs for pegasus shoes while at a dinner party. Word had spread quickly, and soon, other noble houses were bringing their steeds to me, eager for the innovative shoes that eased the strain on their wings and hooves. It wasn’t long before an inventor took notice.

He came, examined my work, and asked to buy the design.

Queen Indira hadn’t hesitated. She sold the rights immediately. I was her servant, after all. I’d given the inventor everything he needed, knowing it would keep food on the table. That was all that mattered .

But the inventor had seen more than just the shoes.

He caught sight of my carrier apparatus, the lightweight framework designed to redistribute cargo weight for pegasuses, allowing them to fly longer distances without injury.

He’d purchased that design, too. The money had flooded in, enough to keep the manor from collapsing under its own excess.

That had been years ago. And now those funds were gone as well.

Queen Indira sat the head of the table. Her posture was poised and regal, her hands folded elegantly in her lap, her pale lavender skin glowing faintly in the dim light. She didn’t look at me, didn’t acknowledge my existence or my contribution.

My fingers brushed the edge of her plate as I refilled her glass. The metal responded, warming beneath my touch. I felt it yield to me, its surface softening, the tarnish dissolving like smoke. When I lifted my hand, the plate gleamed as though it had just been forged.

"I hear he’s a terror on the battlefield." The thin-lipped noble with a nose perpetually tilted upward spoke with the air of someone who had never seen a battle but enjoyed discussing them over fine wine.

"They say the trolls scatter at the sight of him.” This came from a broad-shouldered man draped in embroidered silks, his voice thick with self-importance .

“As well they should,” Queen Indira chimed in. “He’s the only thing keeping the Northern Border secure.”

“Such a shame to think of a creature as lovely as our Princess Charlotte being sacrificed to a monster," said Thin Lips. "But that’s royalty for you.”

Their laughter was soft, almost pitying, as though they truly believed their sympathy carried weight.

I glanced toward Charlotte at the far end of the table.

She sat stiffly, her posture perfect, her gaze blank save for the faint curve of her lips—a mask of politeness she wore as easily as her silk gown.

But I knew better.

Her hands were hidden beneath the table. She wasn’t paying attention to the conversation at all. She was watching the Convergence Games on her handheld crystal viewer.

A smirk tugged at my lips despite myself. That was Charlotte—silent rebellion wrapped in royal decorum. They all saw her as a perfect little princess, poised and obedient, ready to be bartered away for the good of the realm.

But I saw her—the real her. I saw the way her thumb slid over the edge of the crystal.

I saw her eyes narrowing slightly as something on the screen caught her attention.

Likely, Kael had delivered a devastating kick with his newly armored thighs.

After the last games, Charlotte had come around to mechanical enhancements after Drakos had decimated the field with his fists of steel.

I turned back to my work, the tray feeling heavier in my hands now.

The mention of the Beast Prince had tightened something in my chest, a knot of helpless anger that refused to ease.

They talked about Charlotte’s future as though she weren’t sitting right there, as though she weren’t a person with her own mind, her own will.

I stopped behind Charlotte’s chair, wanting to offer her comfort in any way I could. She didn’t look at me as I set her plate in front of her, didn’t acknowledge my presence. She never did when others were watching. In Evergrove, it was unthinkable for a fairy princess to befriend a human servant.

Her fingers shifted slightly, angling the crystal viewer in her lap just enough for me to catch the glowing image on its surface so I could see her favorite champion at work. I personally thought Kael Drakos was a brute. I kept that opinion to myself.

“Charlotte, Lord Falcos wished you a happy birthday.” Queen Indira’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

Charlotte’s head snapped up. The crystal fell from her hands. It hit the floor with a sharp crack. Silence hung heavy in the air, all eyes turning toward the princess and the glittering fragments of light at her feet .

Queen Indira’s gaze darkened, her lips thinning into a line of icy displeasure. “What was that?”

“It was my fault, Your Highness.” I stepped forward, lowering my tray and bowing my head.

The queen’s sharp eyes fixed on me. I felt the weight of her stare like a physical blow.

“I was watching the Games. The crystal slipped from my hands.”

A murmur rippled through the guests, their gazes shifting between me and the queen.

The thin-lipped man arched a brow. “Interesting. I wasn’t aware the House of Evergrove paid its servants well enough to purchase a handheld crystal. And a human servant, no less.”

“This one will not be an employee any longer.” The Fairy Queen rose from her seat with a flourish. “You have disgraced this household. Leave. Now.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” I bowed my head lower, my body aching under the strain of my own unworthiness.

I took a step toward the door, but my foot landed wrong. The fragile bones in my ankle twisted. Pain shot up my leg. Before I could stop myself, my knees buckled. I crumpled to the ground in a graceless heap.

There were snickers from the highborn, low groans from the serving class. But all I heard was the sharp intake of breath that came from behind me. Charlotte rose so fast her chair scraped against the floor.

I gave a sharp shake of my head, warning her without words. She couldn’t come near me. Not now. Not when all eyes were on us. Not when her mother’s wrath was so dangerously close to turning on her.

Charlotte ignored me.

Bending slowly, deliberately, she picked up the fork she’d dropped onto the floor.

She let out a long, low sigh. The sweetness of her breath tickled my nostrils.

Like any taste of her I could get, I swallowed the scent down.

She didn’t look at me as she rose, her movements stiff and composed, and returned to her seat.

"Thank you for the birthday wishes, Lord Falcos. Thank you all for coming to my birthday party on this sacred night."

I pressed my palms against the cold, polished floor, forcing myself upright. My legs didn't tremble as I did. I felt nothing, not an ache or pain. The queen’s attention was off me and back on her guests. Not only had I been dismissed, I was already forgotten.

The walk back to the stables felt longer than usual, the sounds of the party fading into the distance as the cool night air wrapped around me.

Above, the sky was a swirling canvas of celestial light and shadow.

The First Moon loomed high above, caught in the throes of the Hunter’s Eclipse.

The planet’s shadow crept slowly across its surface, veiling its usual brilliance in a deep, blood-like crimson.

The sight sent a chill through me, a reminder of how small I was beneath the weight of the cosmos.

I wasn’t worried about being dismissed. I’d never received wages, just food and lodging.

The queen couldn’t afford to lose me—not when I was the one who cared for the animals.

With the coffers bare, the queen still needed me to maintain the illusion of wealth with my forgery of metals and repairs of her tarnished trinkets.

The stables were quiet. The soft huffs of the pegasuses and the faint rustle of hay were the only sounds to greet me. I made my way over to the straw mattress. At least I'd get in some early rest and got out of cleanup duty.

I was awakened some time later by the soft creak of the stable door opening.

Charlotte slipped through the gap, her cloak drawn tightly around her.

She crossed to me in a few quick steps, her bare feet hardly making a sound on the dirt floor.

When she reached me, she knelt, her blue eyes shimmering in the faint light.

"Let me see," she demanded, pulling at the threadbare sheet. She'd snuck in a thicker blanket years ago, but I kept it hidden and up high unless she was with me. When she was, I'd tuck her into its warmth.

“Charlotte, I’m fine.”