FOURTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭. 𝘈 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦.
Xanthiene Vivenca, a fairy with a bounty for her soul, is caught between...
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Xanthy stood on her tiptoes, craning her neck up while keeping the Grand Royal's green head in her line of sight. Throngs of robed nature fairies trickled out of the hall the moment the Grand Monarch, a spry man not older than the rest of them but probably hundreds of years old, stood up from his seat. Xanthy covered her face when she glimpsed the pink-haired woman talking to Obeia at the far corner of the room on her way out. Did that woman even know that Xanthy was pardoned?
An elbow shot out of nowhere and jostled Xanthy back. Xanthy bit her tongue before she could curse. She'd hate to offend a noble after narrowly escaping being manderfin fodder.
She craned her neck up again as the flow of the crowd directed her towards a roofed path flanked with trees with burnt amber trunks and bright, orange leaves. Blue flowers the size of Xanthy's palm grew in shrubs dotting the flat expanse of land beyond the path. A constant chirping filled the air as thousands, if not, millions of insects with luminous butts glowing in various colors darted past Xanthy or settled on trees.
The Grand Royal's long green hair swished at Xanthy's periphery. There. She ducked her head at the fairies who halted as she tore through the direction perpendicular to them. "Watch it, beansprout!" a high-pitched voice screamed at her at one point. Xanthy shook her head. No matter. She needed to tell the Grand Royal to stop sending tomes and scrolls to her room.
Dark boots and green robes shuffled out of her way as she elbowed people until she came into a different path that led towards another part of the structure where a single door led. "Sir!" Xanthy raised her arm as the Grand Royal reached the tree with a trunk as thick as a house. Oh, come on.
Xanthy reached the tree and knitted her eyebrows. Where's the Grand Royal? She whipped to the opposite direction just as a green vest zipped past her periphery. "Oomp!" Xanthy grunted as her nose exploded in pain. She recoiled and stumbled back only to find a grinning Grand Royal staring at her. Her eyes widened and she swung her upper body to a deep bow. "Sorry about that! Please don't feed me to the manderfin!"
"Jonadrin," a gentle voice bled in Xanthy's ears.
Xanthy raised her head. "What?"
"Call me Jonadrin instead of 'sir'," the Grand Royal hooked two fingers in the air before running a hand down the back of his head. "It's hideous."
Xanthy blinked. "Uh..."
"What do you need, Virtakios?" The Grand Royal chuckled as he turned towards the direction he was going.
"Xanthy," she cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Don't call me 'Virtakios'," she didn't fight the grin that crept to her lips as she met the Grand Royal's purple irises. "It's hideous."
"We're even, then," Jonadrin crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of having been ambushed on my way to a court meeting?"
"I want to thank you for what you're doing for us," Xanthy rubbed her throbbing nose.
