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I took up my place at my father’s left side while Dimitri sat to his right, both of us looking out across the long, marble table that Father often used for meetings with his advisors, all of whom were present.

The Southerner and I were the only females at the table, as the advisors my father kept were all males.

On the tabletop was showcased a variety of traditional Northern treats—a giant roasted hog, candied carrots, spinach and strawberry salad, and some sort of pie I couldn’t make out from my position.

Then there were other dishes I didn’t recognize, which I assumed were dishes native to the South, to make our guest more comfortable.

Father had addressed her as Princess, so not only was she here as an ambassador for the South, she was also royalty.

She sat at the other end of the long table, opposite of Father, her dirty blonde hair so rich it was almost a brown color instead.

She held her chin high, her shoulders squared back, and a soft smile played on her lips.

She was dressed in fitted, brown trousers and a cream-colored tunic, with colorful jewels hanging from her pointed ears, throat, and wrists.

A circlet of golden ivy sat upon her temples, curving around the back of her head.

The title of “Princess” didn’t even need to be spoken aloud for one to know she was important, and it was obvious that she knew it, too.

The thing that stood out the most to me, though, was a curious set of brown markings on the back of her right hand, crawling up the back of her forearm. It was a specifically detailed pattern of swirls and swoops, the darker brown making it stand out against her tan, freckled skin.

Her appearance, while regal, still shocked me and left me stunned.

The Princess didn’t look like somebody who would kill my people in cold blood, or sit back and laugh while she ordered Father’s soldiers’ wings chopped off.

She looked oddly sophisticated—nothing like the cruel beasts that I’d grown up hearing stories about.

Beasts who shouldn’t even be allowed to call themselves fae.

“Thank you for joining us here in the North tonight, Princess and Ambassador Teagan Thorntier. It’s an honor to have you present as our guest, and we’re grateful you made the long journey to be here.

We hope you make yourself at home throughout the duration of your visit.

” The voice of my father, King Horace Heartshire, rang out across the room, making all of the chatter that may have been occurring cease instantly.

I watched as all heads turned his way, his voice alone commanding attention.

That wasn’t the only thing about him that demanded attention, though.

The high backed wooden chair he sat upon, which had been custom made specifically for Northerners with large wings, also drew immediate attention.

The top of it was crowned with a carving of a wing overlapping a crescent moon—the symbol of the Northern royal house, the Heartshire’s family line.

This wasn’t his throne room, but the chair he sat upon was close enough to a throne that it still drew immediate attention to it, due to its sheer size and the fact that all other chairs around the table were of normal sizing.

Another variable was likely his giant, black wings that poked out from above his broad shoulders, even though they were tucked in close to his body.

Black wings were a rare sight to see, even among us winged fae of the North.

Something that had always stood out to me personally, though, was Father’s graying, black hair.

An obvious sign of aging. I spent so much time reading, it was difficult to imagine the era, centuries ago, where us fae were truly immortal.

When we didn’t age as the humans do, when we were known for more than just our zirilium.

In today’s world, our lifespans didn’t exceed that of a normal human—the only humans being those in the Levast Isles—and I felt as though we as a people had simply accepted that fact.

Nothing, not even the records, said exactly what caused the fae to lose their immortality.

And nowadays, nobody seemed to care all that much.

Well, at least nobody in the castle talked much about it. I’d heard rumors of fae making it their life mission to travel our realm in search of answers, but most Northerners were too busy fighting to survive, fighting in war, or fighting to please my father to worry about our lost immortality.

Personally, I’d always wondered what it would be like to know true immortality, as our ancestors did. As a young girl, I used to tell Dimitri that I’d crack the mystery someday. That I’d be an adventurer, somebody brave and courageous, who would finally restore the fae to their previous glory.

I’d since outgrown such silly, unrealistic daydreams.

Continuing to drown out the voice of my father as he began introducing his advisors to Princess Teagan one by one, I gazed around the large meeting room turned dining room instead, my mind still far away.

I was rarely permitted inside—on any normal day, it would be used only by Father and his advisors.

The gray cobbled stone walls rose high above our heads, with a giant crystal chandelier hanging down above the marble table in the center of the room.

Windows lined the long side wall, providing a clear view of the snowy Salic mountain scape that surrounded Gatlyn Castle.

Looking out of the south facing windows, I could see Hollis laying at the base of the mountains in the distance, most windows and buildings lit up by lanterns for the evening.

That was the city that Dimitri and I would always sneak out to explore as kids.

The city that held The Thousand Stars Festival once a decade, and where we met Aurora.

The city that was bursting at the seams with life, food, and music, which held so many of my favorite memories.

The only place I felt a sliver of peace at—on the ground at least. There, dressed in commoners clothing, I was just Aviva.

Sure, I was recognized sometimes, but when we visited in secret, hood obscuring my features, nobody could tell I was my father’s daughter.

And that in itself took such a heavy weight off my shoulders.

“And to my left, the Princess of the North and twin to my heir, Prince Dimitri, is Aviva. Princess Aviva, rise.” I was snapped back into the present as Father introduced me to the room.

I swiftly rose to my feet on command, my heart suddenly racing as every pair of eyes in the room fell on me.

My eyes flicked up to meet Aurora’s, who stood along the far wall next to Hugo.

Instincts kicking in, I curtsied, inclining my head slightly towards Princess Teagan, giving her my respect.

“It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Princess Teagan,” I said, doing my best to keep a small smile on my face to mask my growing mix of emotions.

I couldn’t help the anger bubbling in my stomach as I spoke, but also a small piece of me envied the female before me.

She had something I didn’t—a purpose for her kingdom.

Princess Teagan smiled in return and swiftly nodded before I sat back down.

“Now, I’d love to get down to business if that’s alright with you, King Horace,” Teagan said, her voice firm and strong as she met Father’s gaze.

“Why of course, Princess. Go right ahead,” Father said, a small, mischievous grin beginning to play on his mouth.

“As you well know, Your Highness, our two nations have been at war for centuries. My brother, the South’s newly appointed King, has recently ascended the throne after the death of our parents.

One of his wishes for our nation and our home is to put an end to this war between us.

I’ve come here today to discuss this with you and see if there is anything the South can do to make this happen.

For the sake of both of our people,” Teagan said, subconsciously sitting taller as she spoke, like she was trying to appear larger than she was.

Her proposition surprised me—she worded it as though she cared for those beyond her borders.

My father took a moment, letting the words sink into the room before he asked, “And what would you propose to make this happen?”

Teagan looked ready for this, responding fluidly.

“My king suggested a project both nations could partake in to bring us closer together. We could build a town together, somewhere in the middle of our two lands, where volunteers from both nations who also want peace could move to. A merging of our two people in one place, to start.”

The newly appointed king was a bit of a mystery—there wasn’t a soul in the North who had met him or even had direct contact with him yet since his coronation.

Father seemed to ponder this a moment, then looked around the room at his advisors. “My dear advisors—do you believe any of your people would be willing to make such a move? To reside in the same town as ones from the South?” he asked them, his demeanor calm but curious.

A choir of responses along the lines of, no and not a chance rang out from the table of advisors, causing Teagan to inhale a sharp breath.

Father’s advisors each had a smaller city than Hollis that they oversaw and cared for in the North, most being scattered around within the mountains somewhere.

It didn’t surprise me that Father was displaying the situation as leaving the decision up to them, though they all know they’d risk losing everything if they went against him.

“I’m sorry, Princess Teagan, but I don’t think that will work for my people. Did your king have any other ideas?” Father asked, swiftly rejecting her proposal and turning his full attention back to her.

“Of course,” Teagan said, refocusing. “We’d like to offer to have a portion of our plant wielders visit some of your less privileged towns to provide healing herbs and vegetables.

They could teach them how to maintain the plants in their environment, so your people could provide for themselves.

We assume after being at war for so long, this would be beneficial for your people.

Many of them also serve as our trokavs, and as such, they can teach your people which plants could best serve them based on different illnesses or wounds. ”

Trokavs—our healers—in the North were often water wielders, but in the South they must be plant wielders. How convenient it must be to be able to sprout any herb you need , I couldn’t help but think.

Father looked around the table of advisors once again before he asked, “Advisors—are you having any trouble providing for, healing, and feeding your own people?”

Another chorus of no rose from the table, but it was noticeably less confident this time.

“It seems we’re sufficient on that front as well, Princess Teagan, though it was a swell idea. What else do you have for me?” Father asked, his grin growing slightly.

A muscle in Teagan’s jaw ticked in frustration, but she quickly masked it, moving forward.

“Truthfully, Your Highness, we were hoping one of those solutions would work for you. But, we also considered asking some of our crystal wielders to come to the North for a period of time, to help your people find your moon stones easier and more efficiently. Is that something that would interest you instead?” Teagan asked.

The South had their own set of zirilium—earth, fire, plants, crystals, and shadows. Although shadows didn’t originate with the South, but rather the Ocrein Isles to the west, their two peoples mixed for centuries in the past, their zirilium melting together in return.

The South’s crystal wielders were so in tune with the world around them, they could sense the crystals in the ground that they forged their sun stones from, and those which the North forged our moon stones from.

Without crystal wielders, our people dug blindly for these rocks.

The sun and moon stones were then fashioned into different pieces that can be worn, the most common in the South being gloves, so the zirilium wielder wearing them could draw strength and power from them.

These stones were essential in battle and they helped those still mastering their wielding to have better control and focus over their zirilium.

Father took a moment before turning to one of the advisors sitting across from Teagan. If my memory served correctly, he oversaw Neokell, to the east.

“Advisor Clive. How are things at the mountain dig site and mines? Has our efficiency decreased at all as of late?” Father asked, addressing Clive directly.

Clive, a burly male who looked as though he desperately needed a hair trimming, cleared his throat before responding, “No, Your Majesty.”

Nobody addressed his obvious hesitation.

“I thought that was the case, though this is my favorite proposition so far, and can be discussed further in the future. Princess Teagan?” Father said expectantly.

Teagan’s pointed ears had turned a bright shade of red, but her face was a perfect mask of control.

“Your Majesty, did you have something specific in mind instead of the propositions I’ve brought before you?” Teagan asked, her tone clipped and more serious than before.

I turned my head to watch as a full smirk spread across my father’s face. For a moment, he looked purely wicked.

“Everybody besides our dear guest and my children, get out of my sight. Now .”

There was a pause, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

Nobody present had been expecting something like this, but to disobey Father was a death wish.

I watched the back of Aurora’s head as she walked out after a beat of hesitation.

A few moments later, the room had been cleared, even of the servants.

Teagan raised an eyebrow and motioned to the now empty room. “So?”

“You were right, Princess. I do have something specific in mind. Aviva, stand.” Father commanded.

My stomach plummeted to the floor, but I slowly rose, standing straight with my wings tucked close to my back. My heart began pounding as I turned my head to gaze upon my father in anticipation.

My father held an arm out to me, turning back towards Teagan, before announcing: “To begin finding a way to coexist peacefully, I want your king to marry my daughter, Princess Aviva.”