The table was easy to find if one followed the trail of harp and polite musing through the tangle of shrubs that hugged the cobblestone path. Her fingers grazed the hanging hydrangeas, glad that the hedges gave her enough shade and cover to still wonder if she ought to turn back. She had left the volume of fae history on a reading table in the library, but she had shelved the thought of night skies and granted wishes for later. Even now, in this segment of the garden, she wondered how far she would have been had she taken Jimin's offer right then and there.

The courtier told her he would stay with her until she decided. He rearranged the meaning of her curse to a perspective laden with exploration and adventure. But as much as that made her blood rush, it struck a chord deep in her sense of peace. Not once had she imagined that her feet be planted to this castle, but her inability to be reckless cast light on something else.

It was not the splendor of her room, the meals, the luxury of the palace. Neither was it her attendant or the advisor. As she stepped into the clearing that exposed her to a wrought silver gazebo, she looked the reason in the eye.

His Highness had been in the middle of lifting a forkful of fruit to his mouth until he went still as stone. Genevieve trailed his line of focus to Maren, the other women taking her lead. Adelia, Celeste, Laurel, Blaire, Jeanette, and Kathleen provided little comfort with dead silence. Only Lyra smiled encouragingly, sitting a hair straighter.

Maren took a second to acknowledge her friend with a tight grin before examining the Prince once more. Surprisingly, one seat remained at the opposite end of the table as a testament to how the women clambered to be near him. She did not even let herself entertain the thought that it had been left for her eventual charmed return to their party.

A servant left his post to pour tea into her teacup and inquire for special requests. Maren politely gave her order. "Good morning, everyone."

The Prince measured her, eyes roving over her white gown and floral crown--a diplomatic move from Emberlynn. His gentle voice was considerate and welcoming, but his demeanor was guarded with one hand gracefully picking up the stem of his glass and the other gripping the armrest. If one were not aware of the tie between them, the wariness would almost be imperceptible. "Well met, Maren. I am relieved to see you again."

She grabbed a croissant from one of the main dishes, ogling the sugarcoated fruit that she knew to be her favorite for picking next. "Did you think me too weak to return?"

"No. Your resilience is one of your strengths."

"I didn't realize you were observant of my strengths as well, Your Highness."

She took a bite of her croissant, the memory of being verbally cut to her ankles more pressing than ever being built up.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Lyra had missed his gesture entirely. "You look lovely today, Maren. Healthier, too."

The other women nodded, likely imagining a sickly, pale, hollowed version of her withering away in the four-poster bed.

"Your dress makes you look like an angel," said Adelia. Her light blond hair had pinned into an intricate chignon, her green eyes taking in Maren with the proper amount of kindness doled to a stranger. Celeste said nothing as she passively looked over her and back onto her plate.

Genevieve cut into her meat. "I would say more like a snowflake."

"Well that isn't fair," said Jeanette, who propped her head up with a hand onto the table. "She would melt here."

"We're all melting here," Kathleen voiced. She was the only one at the table with a lace fan and a sleeveless dress. "I must admit, where I live in the north is harsh and elevated. I haven't adapted to the climate quite yet." To Seokjin, she said, "How warm does it get in the height of summer?"

His grin was apologetic. "Since I have been born here the heat has never bothered me."

"Has anything bothered you?" Maren stirred sugar into her tea, not meeting his eye.

He laughed mirthlessly, gaze downcast. "Yes. More than I can possibly explain. My own shortcomings pester me most."

At that, she stared at him.

"Our toughest critics are ourselves, Your Highness. Please, be gracious to yourself." Genevieve placed a hand on his shoulder. The dynamic of the table shifted, a magnetic pull for attention falling onto the gesture from the head of every woman. Even Maren, who wondered just how much she had missed while licking her own wounds.

To thank her, his larger hand engulfed hers, one of his thumbs stroking the back of her knuckles. She put her hand back in her lap as though it never happened.

Seokjin stood, the burden on his shoulders maybe visible to only Maren, who noted the dip of his chin and the distance in his tone. The actions of a being that was too tired, too worried, and too independent to dare share his thoughts with anyone else.

"Thank you, all, for dining with me this morning. There are matters that need my attention. Please, excuse me." He bowed, his boots clicking against the cobblestone as he wandered away.

The rest of the table passed away without him, all of the women settling into the serenity of the harp notes but letting themselves relax. To their benefit, none of them openly slouched, exhaled, or groaned at his departure. Maybe that meant something, maybe it didn't. Maren pushed out of her seat, looking to Lyra to see if the bubbly girl had any plans. Instead, Lyra stayed transfixed on where he'd just gone.

"Maren," Adelia called. The young lady grinned lopsidedly as though she weren't used to speaking with anyone other than friends. "We are headed to the drawing room if you would like to come."

The girl shrugged. "I'll tag along."

A few minutes into their stroll, Maren wondered why she ever thought this would be a good idea. The other women were already lost in conversation, giggling or commenting about stories from the last few days. The girl tried to listen in, but could not quite find the steps to the rhythm of their banter.

Two servants opened the double doors to an ivory drawing room, or something of the sort. Cream pillars stretched into the high ceiling, tendrils of syrup-colored ivy and golden-rimmed white roses snaking around the thick width. Autumn leaves blew carelessly across the floor as though they managed to land here from the outside world, and perhaps they did. Directly across from her was a gaping view of a scarlet city and a soft blue skyline interrupted by the outstretched arms of autumnal trees. An outstanding balcony overlooked the fire kingdom, a smaller mosaic of glass twinkling in blaring sunlight. The women seemed to frolic to the large, round seating area submerged in the middle of the room with satin tasseled cushions.

Kathleen and Jeanette took seats next to each other, Kathleen snatching a pillow from the empty seats and propping it behind her back. Celeste took off her slippers near the door and joined in. Genevieve took Laurel's hand, both of them making sure not to trip over a step. Blaire and Adelia were still lost in conversation at the forefront of the room.

Lyra's voice was soft. "You can sit next to me." She ushered her to a cozy spot near the mouth of the couch.

Maren sat, but her curiosity remained on the civilizations of rubies a thousand feet below.

"I can't wait for us to have another Solstice party," Genevieve said, sighing heavily. "That was magnificent."

Adelia nodded. "The dances are beautiful. I would love to learn one."

"Do you think His Highness would be free enough to offer dance lessons?" Jeanette winked, the other ladies giggling.

Kathleen already went to work with her lace fan. "I could barely dance, it made me far too hot."

Blaire lowered her voice, her eyes widening. "Did you see all the faerie people?"

The ladies nodded feverishly, all of them leaning in conspiratorially.

"They looked so... odd." Jeanette squinted as she said it. "They're tall and thin, alright, but their teeth. I can't get over the fangs."

"But the Prince has them," Celeste said, glaring at her sidelong.

"And every time he opens his mouth I wonder if he's ever considered taking a bite of me," Jeanette answered.

Kathleen scoffed. "You can be so inappropriate I'm not sure if that's a confession of fear or a sexual innuendo."

"Really though," said Laurel. When she spoke it seemed like she whispered. "They were not what I imagined them to be either."

Maren suddenly turned to the group. "You didn't expect them to appear human, did you?"

Kathleen raised an eyebrow. "I did not know what to expect at all."

"They're going to be our people if one of us becomes Queen," murmured Blaire.

"I'm sorry, but they won't really be our people." Blaire leaned back in her seat, her hands falling away from the pillow in her lap.

Genevieve's gaze remained locked on the view. "They'll be better than our people. And you'll be royalty so what can they really do to you?"

Maren tilted her head. "Kill you still."

Green eyes seized Maren's. "You really think the King of this land would let his subjects touch the woman that steals his heart? You saw the way that they bowed to him. He holds the reins."

"Do you think any of the people would like us? If we became Queen?" Adelia scratched her chin.

"They would think Kathleen is too prissy," Jeanette said, giggling into her hand.

"And you complain too much," Kathleen retorted, narrowing her eyes as Jeanette took light offense.

"What would they think of Laurel?" Genevieve asked.

"She's a bit mild and shy. Not in a bad way--," Celeste assured, "but in a place like this, she would definitely have to find her voice."

Some of them nodded. Laurel studied her wringing hands.

"Adelia could do it," Genevieve said.

Adelia grinned, satisfied. "So could you. You seem to take pride in consoling him."

"A touch on the shoulder from her is nothing compared to a kiss," Jeanette blurted, her sunken eyes turning to Lyra. The grate of dried leaves against polished floor scratched against the thick tension in the room. Not even the soft breeze could redirect their attention.

Lyra's cheeks became a fierce shade of rose, her hands wrapping about her waist. "The dance carried us into it. It was nothing." She tucked her legs beneath her, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

Adelia put a hand on her heart. "It is alright to admit that you enjoyed it."

Jeanette scooted forward. "Yeah, what was it like?"

Even Laurel swallowed in anticipation of the answer.

"It was..." Lyra bit her lip. "Very nice."

Jeanette threw her hands up in frustration. "Come now! Give us more than that!"

"I mean it," Lyra mumbled. "He's so gentle, but playful too."

Maren blinked at a sudden memory; his hair hovering over his brow as his candlelit eyes teased of explosions.

I think I know what you like.

She shifted in her seat, content with the view.

"Maren," Blaire called, crossing one leg over the other. "What do you think of him?"

"Do you feel behind at all with being bedridden? I do feel like you missed a lot," Kathleen declared. She collapsed her fan and set it at her side. "Many women went home."

"Maybe your sickness saved you." A few of their heads turned to Blaire, who craned her neck back. "What? We're all thinking it."

"It could have," Maren lied. "He doesn't give me much to think about since he spends his time with all of you."

Genevieve said, "That's a lovely new ring, Maren."

Jeanette's face twisted into envy for a second, her chin raising for a better look. Adelia cut her gaze to Maren's hands, which were carelessly thrown over her lap. Celeste and Blaire peered at Genevieve, Laurel shrinking further into herself. Lyra blinked at the piece of jewelry, her brow twitching. Kathleen was the one that gasped.

"Spends his time with us, perhaps, but spends his fortunes on you--" Kathleen reached across the couch, her hand almost wrapping around Maren's until the girl yanked it to her chest.

"Please don't," Maren mumbled, crossing her arms so that it would disappear. The ruby still poked the back of her upper arm.

Laurel said, "Is that a gift?"

The silence felt charged with suppressed emotions.

"It's..." Maren released a deep exhale. "Nothing."

"I told you he'd been spending time with her too. No way he'd just keep her around when he could send her home to be with family for recovery." Kathleen whipped open her fan again, her light brown ringlets flowing away from her cheeks.

"You told me you haven't seen the Prince," Genevieve added.

"I haven't. Only once, and it was brief," Maren countered. It was not enough to throw off the other girl's trail. Genevieve did not glare daggers, but smiled politely with the cutting edge of poison; like her frustration from being lied to laced her lashes when she blinked and colored the blush that naturally kissed her cheeks.

"Proposals don't take very long to give," Blaire said.

"It wasn't a proposal," Maren snapped.

Lyra nodded. "If she said it isn't, then it isn't. Besides, he may have wanted to give her a token of acknowledgment or something to remember him by since she couldn't be with us."

Maren tried to ignore the crack in her voice. "You have nothing to worry about. I'm of no use to him."

"Don't say that," Lyra told her, eyes flicking to her lap as though she wanted to place a comforting hand there but decided against it. "He can still choose you. He would be a fool to discount you."

Blaire scoffed. "Now that she's back in the race, I'm trying to imagine how she would be as Queen."

"Secretive, that's for sure," Celeste remarked.

"Wonderful," Lyra corrected. "Why are you all being so rude?"

Jeanette spoke over her. "Secretive is good for a courtier."

"Not good for a marriage." Kathleen shook her head.

Maren shot up, the movement causing the conversation to cease. "It's getting a bit insufferable in here. I think I'll go get some fresh air."

She snatched a fistful of her white dress and leapt from their social circle. The distance from them provided enough space to realize the taut feeling in her chest, the stretching of being pushed to one's limit; being wound and unwound and toyed with. The worst part was that the irritation remained with her rather than at her back with the rest of them.

Do you ever get tired of being so temperamental?

Yes, she did. It was exhausting. Especially during days like this one when she tried to make an effort.

The library was cozy and radiant upon entry despite the man in a dark purple velvet vest perusing one shelf near the fireplace. Maren charged in regardless, not even batting a lash as his charming head swiveled in her direction out of curiosity.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Both hands were in his pockets, his jawline more pronounced through the utter lack of shadows in the room.

Maren stopped a few feet from him, debating if she wanted to answer or pass him by for a quieter spot. When his familiar, friendly smirk crept onto his features, she knew a part of her had already made a choice.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you could breathe fire."

"Do I seethe that often to you?"

"No," he answered, his frame holding sunlight from the floor as he turned to face her. "But when you do, you mean it."

"If you weren't in the library so often, I could be enraged in private." Maren took the flower crown from her head, whisking the petals out of her hair by a shake of her head. She preened a bit, flipping the escaped strands over her shoulder before studying him again. He had still been observing her. "Is there no other room in the palace that you like?"

He shrugged halfheartedly. "I actually prefer this palace to the Court of Dawn's. Far too much light there. It is impossible to catch a wink of sleep."

"Wait... why are you here?" Maren crossed her arms.

"Jin is allowing me some time away, that is all," he admitted, his head falling to look at his feet. "To answer your question though, you actually caught me at the perfect time. Come closer."

Maren resisted the urge to display her bewilderment.

"Relax your guard. I am not planning on stealing you away," he added with a small laugh. Then, his finger shot out of his pocket. "Not without your consent."

"About that," Maren began. He cut her off.

"As I said, the offer is still yours."

"I know, but don't think that my hesitation comes from a question of your worth," Maren said. Aware of how she must have sounded, she bristled at the fact that her words were so soft and that her face suddenly grew warm. "You have been very kind. I value you."

He bowed his head. "I am pleased to make you feel better, Maren."

"You know my name?" Despite her earlier caution, she went ahead and walked to him.

He chuckled again, the sound of it so silky that it wrapped her in comfort. "You have quite the reputation around here."

She sighed dramatically. "Oh bother. You don't think I can be Queen anymore?"

"It would really be quite a spectacle if he did choose you." Grinning again, he took a step closer to her, positioning himself only a hair's width away from the middle of her back.

She trailed his movements, her gaze following his lean, strong frame until he pointed to the stack before them. His slender, pale finger directed her to a lopsided book on a shelf made of black hardcover and silver print.

In her ear, he said, "That book is from my Court. But since every day that I have been in here, it has moved places."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone leaves it in a different spot after taking it, and it intrigues me to no end." He looked at her, the proximity of his lips, his scent, his curiosity too overbearing. As Maren glanced back, she could only blink, her thoughts drifting entirely to the lovely plains of his face, the earnest amusement in his eyes, his full lips. All he had to do was wrap his arms around her waist and she would wander willingly into the dream of him.

Flushing, she stared ahead again, going still. "You really must find something else to do in this castle."

"Think about it," he said, his heartbeat merely inches from her shoulder. "Someone up to trickery like that likely would not want another soul to find whatever they have been peering into. Namjoon is in the library a lot as well. I think he would correct an organizational mistake like this. But he hasn't yet. Why?"

She set her jaw. "Because he has someone to look after and a kingdom to run. A book could stray from his to-do list."

"I do agree with what they say. You underestimate his meticulous nature."

She rolled his eyes. "His power is a bit too vast for my taste, I suppose."

"Then I surely wouldn't be to your liking."

Maren felt the void at her back when he stepped away, his footfalls like the sound of music as he went to one of the arched windows. His head leaned against the frame, the reflection of the outdoors lighting up his dark eyes.

"Anyway, I'm sure someone is enjoying that book."

"They shouldn't be," he commented, one his knuckles pulling the thick drapes further back. "It isn't meant for leisure."

Namjoon's entry to the library was nearly silent. The colors of his red doublet were enough to help her see him. His nose was buried in a book, his finger holding down either a paragraph or an illustration. As soon as he neared the fireplace, he peered up from the content.

"Maren." He regarded her with an expressionless stare. To Jimin, he bowed his head. "Dauphin."

Jimin feigned offense. "If you call Jin Highness, I would like to be called that too."

"No," Namjoon deadpanned.

"I see. The sweet talk is reserved for my brother."

"It would be reserved for you if you did not swoon for my attention so often, Highness." Namjoon dropped the book on the reading table as Jimin laughed.

"What are you reading?" Jimin gestured to the book with a small bob of his head. Maren wondered if their conversation was a cue for her to leave.

Namjoon leaned on the table. "I was revisiting the little bit we have on the Court of Dawn."

"You are truly a creature for stories," Jimin commented, glancing wistfully out the window.

"An entire Court vanishes from our homeland. It's less of a story and more of a mystery." Namjoon closed the cover and shook his head. "I keep checking for a change in the lineage. A sign that one of the Seelie are still alive and roaming, but there's nothing. Their pages are empty."

"The pages have been empty," Jimin added, the earlier touch of friendliness thrown to the wind.

"I'm sure your Court is indulging in the overwhelming length of Ascendance, anyway."

Jimin cut his eyes at that. Namjoon expertly pretended not to notice.

The advisor grinned. "What are you busying yourself with?"

Jimin shrugged. "Watching the never-ending affairs of the palace." He turned to the window, his voice lilting with mischief as he said, "And it is about to get better. It's time for another date."

Maren was the first to go to the window. Squinting through the sunlight, she drank in the fringes of the garden. Down below, Seokjin beamed as another young lady with black hair and a smile as delicate as winter approached. Lyra went to grab his hands, but he cupped her face instead. The pretty girl's laughter fluttered over the brush.

"Will this be your Queen?" Jimin asked.

Maren posed herself to answer, but paused as Namjoon took up station by her side. He was somber, quiet from the flight furrow in his brow.

"His Highness has much on his mind. Who is to say there will be a Queen?"

Jimin said, "There will be no one to say anything if he doesn't--"

"Not in front of the human," Namjoon barked. Jimin glanced from the advisor to Maren, silent understanding and reprise making him blink his thoughts away as though they had never come. Both of the masculine creatures ignored Maren's pitiful game of looking back and forth at them like she'd get an answer.

"Is the human really so dangerous? She is under lock and key," Maren chimed.

Namjoon grimaced. "You will be under things far, far worse if you continue to pry."

Jimin continued staring out of the window, the threat simply lingering in the air and settling into the fabric of her gown, her hair, her head.

The sound of rushing boots skittered through the hallway. Maren, Namjoon, and Jimin turned to find a burly, middle-aged man in the attire of a guard bowing to all three of them on the other side of the threshold. Really, two of them. The only two that could possibly be addressed as members of high society. "Advisor. My lord." He bowed hurriedly, "His Highness sent me to inform you of an urgent meeting at the beginning of dusk concerning the stance of Adara and the Elemental Throne--"

"Spare the details!" Namjoon snapped, eyes surreptitiously falling on Maren the moment he captured her perking at the news. To the guard, he said, "You are dismissed. We will be in attendance."

She couldn't help it. Questions began to tumble into her head. She twirled to Jimin, mouth already open when she found him already staring at her. Subtly, he shook his head. A kind, secret gesture for silence, and she understood why when Namjoon uttered something under his breath.

"Jimin, let us take a stroll." The advisor's face was neutral calm, but the sharpness radiating from the hands clasped behind his back spoke of his self control.

The Dauphin nodded once. "It does seem like a beautiful day."

Jimin detached himself from the wall, following Namjoon to the door. Before the advisor left, he peered over his shoulder.

"Behave, Maren."

She made sure he could see her scowl. Her finger burned to make an obscene gesture, but she thought against it, already near the edge of being singed to a crisp by him. When the two of them left, she glanced back into the garden. Lyra and Jin were no longer there. She imagined they were somewhere else frolicking through flower fields and holding hands. She imagined that Lyra was listening with wide eyes to everything he said, letting the lies enflame her heart under the pretense of believing he would genuinely tell her the truth.

Shimmying the annoyance off, she turned to leave when she caught sight of the book once more.

Jimin was right. It was rather lopsided. Whoever put it back made too much of an effort to make it blend in when everything else in the library had been neatly upright, dusted, and pristine. But had he been alluding to Namjoon's use of it?

Before she knew it, she was only inches from it, her hands wrapping around the thick spine.

THE ARTIFICE OF DARK ARTS

It became that much heavier in her hands, that much more cold.

Who in the world sifted through these pages?

What were on the pages in the first place?

Swallowing, Maren scanned the library for another soul. The crackling in the hearth at her back echoed through the paranoia in her chest. There was not another footfall, sniffle, or page turning. She was alone.

A sense of unease drummed fingers against her shoulders. She ought to put it back. To walk away and get ready for an early supper with the other women. She was trapped, not desperate.

However, magic was magic and it presented itself to her in mysterious ways. First, by invitation of flame. Now, through manifestation of a book. Magic surrounded her. It lived and breathed in every crevice of Neverin. And if she would never escape it, then why should she fear it? For it was only a book.

Her fingers hooked around the hardcover, every nerve in her body blaring for her not to. And she waited another moment, truly pondering if this was what she wanted.

But it was not. The artifice was not hers to explore.

Her curiosity ebbed in many ways, but she refused to let it be to her own demise.

Loosing a deep breath, she shook herself out of the anticipation and went to put it back--startling as something fell out of the folds of the pages. Gold clanked against wood as a key clambered to the floor. Alongside it was a scrap of parchment.

Placing the book onto the nearest table, Maren knelt to the ground.

The key was surprisingly warm, the dull shimmer of it not even coming close to the glimmer of the other golden artifacts in the palace. It seemed like it would belong in a book so cryptic and isolated. Ready to put it away and be done with it, she picked up the piece of paper near it.

BURIED IN THE WEST WING

She searched the room again to no avail. No one had walked in. She was by herself with a key and a clue.

And though she refused to search the pages, she was not opposed to tucking the key into the bodice of her dress and doing the same with the letter.

Signs were signs, and magic was a tricky thing.

(A/N)

Faerie friends,

Hello! I'm glad you're here! ❤️

I hope you enjoyed this! I have more twists and turns under my gossamer sleeves for you. Any theories? Please do share!

Next release: 12/18 December 18th

(Please wish me luck because pumping out 4K+ word chapters almost daily is something I have never done and I might turn to mush—but I'm ready to rage for the last 14 chapters!!!!)

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT ON A COURT OF EMBERS AS A WHOLE. Thank you so very much. To think, I dropped this book for a solid four months just to return to school. I didn't think that it would gather much momentum upon return. But, as always, you surprised me and you waited so patiently. You never cease to amaze me, my goodness. Thank you for taking a chance on a plot so eccentric. This is not what anyone is used to, and I know that. In fact, I was a bit afraid of it being too far out of the box. But you embraced it, and now I feel like I have a small, loving family in Neverin with me ❤️

You are fantastic. Thank you.

With love,

Milan