The Deadly Trials

23.1 | Fairy Light Festivals

// fairy light festivals | part 01 //

He glanced out the nearby window. "Ah, for the pardoning." He fixed his eyes on me. "I thought it only fair for all he has done for you. Besides, isn't it an Earth adage to keep your enemies close?"

The smirk on his face was contagious. "Oh, no, not that." I shook my head. "I — I mean, not just that. But — yes, thank you for saving Jack," I scrambled, "but also, thank you for — for everything."

An eyebrow quirked. "Everything?"

I played with the hem of my shirt. "You know. For the things you said during the Competition. It was because of you that I figured out the fourth trial."

"Hardly," he dismissed, rolling his shoulders. "That is your credit. You were the one to figure it out, after all."

"Oh! And — and for bringing me back to the castle. Thank you."

He tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing.

"I heard you were the one who found my — my body." I released a jittery chuckle. "And you brought me back to the castle when the Competition ended. Right?"

He looked at the ground and cleared his throat. "Yes, that is correct. You are welcome, maiden."

I took a small step toward him. "What were you doing there, anyway?"

Since he didn't respond right away, I said, "In the forest, with the Flytrap. It's pretty far from the castle. So why were you out there?"

Prince Rune spun on his heels and started down the hallway, forcing me to scuttle after him. He mumbled, "I thought you had died."

"And that's why you came? To check? To grieve?"

He didn't say anything, but his shoulders had lifted near his ears and his back had stiffened. I was tempted to claim it was embarrassment, and the thought made me smile.

I folded my hands behind me in an imitation of the Prince. "Do you usually check on the maidens when the Competition ends? Was it just habit?"

He came to an abrupt stop and over his shoulder said, "No. Now if you'll excuse me." He bowed and disappeared around a corner.

I stood frozen, unsure how to interpret what he'd said. If he hadn't gone to the forest out of habit — was it to grieve? Had he grieved my loss?

The King's words replayed in my mind: "You mean a great deal to him. I can see it in his eyes, the regard he has for you."

My stomach lurched, eyes widening and fingers curling. Did — did this mean the Prince had feelings for me?

I realized then where I stood: in front of my room. The Prince had escorted me here. A barking laugh slipped from my lips, a mix of gratitude and disbelief. I sunk onto my bed with a sigh.

My brain felt electric with thoughts, shifted into hyperdrive as the Prince, abolishment of the Competition, Jack's insult of a moping child, and foggy Portland mornings bombarded me at once. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the gears to slow.

"You really think you aren't happy already?"

I pursed my lips. I was willing to admit that being with Eika, Jack, and Kit made me happy. They were spots of sunshine in my life. Even Eternity itself, especially with no looming threats, was beautiful and magical. The mysteries it held tempted me to stay.

I even willingly admitted that I was so focused on my unhappiness — the fact that I wasn't home — that I hadn't even considered the possibility of being happy here. Could I? Could I truly be happy here without the comfort of Portland, my friends, my family?

As Jack had mentioned, there was even the potential to affect change. I could abolish the Bride Competition. I could prune the maze, return it to its original purpose of idle entertainment. No one would ever have to traverse the forest, row across the lake, climb the mountain. I could clean up the coals to the east, try to grow a garden there. Those hallucinogenic wheat stalks could be harvested as a sort of drug — I figured it was like on Earth, where smaller doses offered a happier experience. And no one would ever face a Venus Flytrap.

The monstrous plant led me to thoughts of plants in Portland. The swinging flower pots beneath café awnings, the plant displays in front of building signs, the gardens in window sills.

Then I thought of poisonous plants, hemlock and mushrooms, that could kill — just like Eternity's Venus Flytrap. Earth housed deadly animals that gored, beat, bit, killed — just like the beasts of Eternity. We had murders, overdoses, nightmares closing in on every side, endless horrors if you thought too long. Was Eternity really that different? Earth was not without its deadly trials. Was one better than the other? Could I even dare to draw comparisons?

The coconut sunshine streamed through the stain glass windows. The one comparison I allowed: Eternity was far more beautiful.

I lay back on the bed, drawing my fingers across the sheets. The black of the comforter called the Prince's eyes to mind. The unreadable regard — the grief at thinking I had died — I swallowed hard.

The mystery of the royal family was almost incentive enough to stay in Eternity. To learn of the Queen's crimes, the reason the King hid himself in a cloak, the despair clinging to the Prince like a lifeline.

It hit me: I was stuck here. It was a fact that wasn't going to change, no matter how much I lamented or pleaded or ruminated. I had won the Bride Competition. I had survived. Nothing was going to change that.

Jack was right. I was moping, so focused on my homesickness I was blind to everything else. And maybe, someday, an opportunity would arise so I could go home. Until then, moping about, wallowing in my unhappiness, sounded — empty. I couldn't live like that, no matter where I was.

I sat up again, waiting for the rush of blood to settle.

I was here, in Eternity, in this breathtaking, magical, mysterious place. I might as well make the most of it. I could uncover the truth behind the royal family. I could explore this planet freely. I could attempt to be happy here.

I already was, in a way, with Eika, Jack, and Kit by my side.

My stomach flipped as the Prince popped back into my thoughts. He had offered advice to help us during the fourth trial. He had gone to the forest to grieve my loss, and upon discovering that I was alive, had personally brought me back to the castle for medical attention. And now, he had spared my friend from imprisonment just because that friend had shown me, a then-stranger, kindness.

I toyed with the hem of my shirt, chewing my lip. The Prince deserved more than a meager "thank you." After losing his mother, and watching his people descend into darkness, he deserved to be shown kindness, friendship.

He deserved more than a victor suffering from homesickness.