Chapter Twenty-Two ~Zaria

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"You must really not like me," Tyrian says creeping out of the shadows. "And for a princess, you're very quick to judge. Did no one ever teach you manners?"

"I see no one must have taught you yours, and seeing how the Fae have gotten word so quickly that the dead princess lives, I would say your kind has a loose tongue as well." She holds her head high, the sparkle in her brilliant eyes dull. "It's not judgment. It's observation," she says under her breath as he finally steps into the light. "Your creeping around doesn't help your case, and neither does insulting royalty so I suggest you start explaining before I show you how judgmental I can be."

"Lucky for you, I have no interest in this back and forth."

For a moment I think I must be hallucinating. Tyrian's hair shimmers iridescent, like a sparkling river as the moonlight hits him like a spotlight. His skin glows like the soft ring around the moon.

"He's Fae. This is normal," I have to tell myself, but I'd be kidding myself if I didn't see strands of Lucy's curls glitter like specks of tinsel on a Christmas tree.

He comes to stand beside me, his eyes still fixed on the woman who has not stopped staring him down with a fieriness I have only seen once from the queen.

"It seems we've started on the wrong foot. My name is Tyrian. I am a servant to the prince of the Fae Realm. I come to bear a message to you not even the High Rulers of the Fae know about."

"And that is..." Lucy questions, arms crossed.

"I had visions of a girl. At first, I didn't know who it was until I was sent on behalf of the king to attend the Winter Ball."

"You lie," she bites. "We would know if there were Fae that were invited to the ball."

He looks at her unimpressed before snapping his fingers. The air around him warps and I can feel a sudden pressure between us. Everything becomes blurry until it becomes clear again. All a sudden, I don't feel as small in comparison. I look up at him to see the points of his ears rounded and the shimmer of his hair and skin weaken.

"It's not that hard for us to fit in," he says winking at Lucy.

"Then I saw the girl for real this time. It was you, Lucy. And for everything that I had seen in tiny glimpses... gardening, folding garments, crushing leaves for tea, I had never imagined to see a tiara on your head."

"Why didn't you say anything at the ball?" I ask. "If you were having visions, why not tell anyone while you were there?"

"I was going to," he says and Lucy scoffs.

"Give him a chance," I growl at Lucy under my breath.

"I was going to approach you then, but I had another flash. It only lasted a second but it was enough to see." He pauses and I can see in his eyes that he's reliving what he saw. "It was enough to see a girl curled around a grave in the middle of the night bawling her eyes out, whispering the same name over and over again."

Lucy unfolds her arms, holding tight fists at her side. "I've heard enough."

"Lucy..." I hold my hand out and plead with my eyes all the words I cannot speak aloud. Please hear him out. He could be our only hope. I know you hate him, and I don't know why, but for your own sake, put it aside. For Crista, put it aside. "Please," is all that I say, and I can hear my voice draining, longing for a moment of rest.

"I've overstepped," Tyrian says folding his arms behind his back. "That's why I didn't say anything at first. I didn't know why I was seeing visions of your future, but I knew that night was not the time to bring it up. I tried to let it go, but every so often I would get more and more glimpses. You humming songs down a hallway, delicious smells of desserts, the sound of laughter. I found that maybe you had started to heal."

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