The Last Daughter of Elysia

Chapter 22

Caliath stood on the rose-quartz steps of Golah Castle and waited for his carriage.

His parents were a few steps below him, arms linked, with their crowns winking in the moonlight. Willow and Aurora flanked the Aeperian King and Queen, constantly scanning the courtyard for any threats.

The steps and terrace were bordered by fragrant rose bushes, where fireflies floated through the leaves like embers from a great fire. There were small clusters of fae who also waited for their carriages. Some of them smoked sticks of elderflower and talked quietly amongst themselves, others drank wine. None of them spoke to the Aeperos's, in fact, they all stood far away from them as if the Aeperos's carried a plague.

Caliath didn't mind, he was used to the Golights shunning them and preferred it to their insults. Most of the time he was able to tune out their poisonous words but some days his temper got the best of him. Solitude was a refreshing change because right now his head felt crowded.

Crowded with thoughts of Morgana.

Ever since Golah Court had adopted Morgana, Caliath had always harbored a mild curiosity about her but it was no more than that. Prior to the Spring Ball he'd never met the rumored human of Golah Court, so he never spared her much thought, but ever since the ball he'd been unable to stop thinking about her. It wasn't just because he found her to be beautiful, there was something else about her that drew him in. It was Morgana's tenacity when she questioned him. It was refreshing to speak to someone who pursued answers. Most of the fae from his court were as soft as jelly and followed orders from the Golights. They never dared to question. He also thought that she had more patience than him because she'd endured the Golights for so long when he could barely stand to spend an evening with them. After tonight, his feelings for her had grown and so had his curiosity. When the fire exploded out of her and she'd screamed, fear twisted his stomach. All he'd wanted to do was protect her. It was frustrating that he couldn't explain what it was that he felt for her. Or why he felt this way. He'd never felt like this before, about anyone, ever.

The front doors creaked open and buttery light from the foyer spilled down the steps. A familiar waft of dianthus and honeysuckle curled through the air, and Caliath's shoulders tensed. He turned around, and there was Prince Damon in the doorway with a smirk on his face. The music from the ballroom drifted out, along with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses.

All the fae on the terrace bowed and curtseyed in a show of respect for their prince.

But Caliath did no such thing.

He refused to show any respect for the fae in front of him.

Damon put his hands in his pockets and strolled towards Caliath, footsteps echoing against the hard floor. All the fae watched the princes like spectators at a public execution. Some of them whispered to each other, and others grinned. There was a volatile charge in the air, like the moment before lightning struck.

Damon peered down at Caliath, and his smirk widened. He bent down and whispered in Caliath's ear, "If your court took it, there will be blood to pay."

"Took what?"

"You know what I'm talking about. It went missing the day you and your father came to the trade meeting."

"Then you know we didn't have time to steal whatever it is you think we took."

Their voices were too low for the other fae to hear. But nonetheless, the onlookers knew that a fight was brewing.

Damon sneered, "If our spies find the grimoire in your possession I will personally see to it that you will be the one to pay the price."