The Crown Prince of the Fire Fae is looking for a bride, and to find one, he'll invite the most eligible ladies to compete for his hand.
Maren, a humble lady's maid, did not consider herself one of these women--not until she was forced to accept th...
In the next two days, Laurel and Jeanette were sent home before lunch. Blaire was the last to be informed by her attendant that her presence would not be requested. For each girl crossing the border, there was a small gathering near the carriage where all of the ladies would say a sentiment before the eliminated left for good. Maren never said anything to them, and they did not say a word to her.
Adelia, Genevieve, Lyra, and Celeste would nearly be in tears. But Maren figured they were just glad that the carriage had not been reserved for them. She had yet to bring up the ribbon to Lyra, and yet to see Jimin again. Selfishly, these two days had been hers; a special time reserved for enjoying meals, taking joy in the small things, and reveling in the satisfaction of her choice.
As this would be the third day, she walked through the palace halls with a ball of anxiety in her stomach.
Faine was coming unless she could stop it, and picking up the dagger was no longer an option. Not unless Maren pointed the sharp end at the Enchantress of Mirrors.
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The veins in every pillar were red, and they ran so deep that they stained other parts of the architecture pink. A similar phenomenon made up the floor, as the floor itself had been shaped into a spacious circle pulsing with red veins that swam through the glass images between the tiles. Every now and then, those scarlet channels shimmered gold. The lava within them flowed through the infrastructure to create an open pavilion in an elevated segment of the garden.
The sun blared down almost directly over the women and Namjoon, the blue sky falling second in line to its luminance. It also illuminated the pedestal in between the advisor and the ladies where a crown crafted of gold, rubies, and diamonds rested on a dark red velvet cushion.
Maren blinked at the Queen's crown, her thoughts drifting to the beautiful Philinna.
"Aspirants," Namjoon announced. "Five of you remain. Congratulations on making a lasting impression on His Highness and to his attendants."
Namjoon neared the crown, his eyes so bright that they seemed to glow during day. "Prior to this moment, you have experienced only an introduction. You have seen glimpses of Adara's festivities and her citizens. You have experienced her meals, culture, and attire. Finally, you have had the opportunity to court and learn more about His Highness himself. Adara has graciously opened her arms. It has come time that we ask for you mortal women to do the same.
"A Queen of mortal men is a staple to her people. She is a figurehead of all things good within her kingdom. She may have talents, empathy, or an intellect that allows her to maneuver the relations of territories around her. Either way, she is responsible for nurturing and overseeing her charge.
"A Queen of the immortal is her kingdom. She, along with her High Prince, must not simply represent, but embody her element in mind and spirit; trading in the identity of one body, to the unity of the voices at her back. Adarans are a member of faekind known for their candor, bravery, and passion. They are recognized across the six Neverin Courts as those that show others the flame within them. Bold. Fierce. Scalding to the touch when crossed. She must revere the other Courts in their strengths, but never falter from her own.
