The loud noise of someone drilling into the wall near my room jolted me awake from the most wonderful dream I'd had in a long time.
My eyes refused to open, yet I could already sense the dim sunlight shining through the white draperies.
I stopped breathing.
Why was the Sun shining? It was winter, and the shortest day of the year was just around the corner.
Faye was usually so meticulous regarding everything related to the Crown Trials, so allowing me to sleep beyond sunrise at this time was out of character for her. Where was she?
I forced my feckless body up from my comfortable pillow, rubbing my heavy eyes to prepare them for the burning light. Then, slowly cracking them open, I turned my head to look at the clock above the door. Then they opened wide.
Breakfast had been served almost an hour ago, and no one had been here to get me.
I jumped out of bed and pulled the delicate nightgown over my head, nearly tearing it in the process. Breathless, I searched my closet for a dress proficient for the assignments Evie could've planned for us today, and my eye caught a dark green dress that looked easy to manage.
The fabric was soft, and all it took to fit my size was one button in the back of its neck and a string around the waist. It was perfect — plain and straightforward, but that was what I needed.
Unfortunately, I couldn't recall the details of today's agenda. I could only hope that it wouldn't necessitate overly formal attire. Evie would kill me if we were scheduled to participate in another etiquette lecture and I showed up like this.
I quickly found a pair of matching flat slippers and put them on before I tossed a light shawl across my shoulders to keep my body warm from the chilly halls.
The door unlocked as I pressed my crystal against its wooden surface and carefully pushed it open. They were still drilling in the walls, so I peeked my head outside to ensure I didn't accidentally interrupt anything I shouldn't. However, my eyes weren't met by the dull white walls I was used to seeing.
Instead, little lights were hanging from the ceiling like a series of stars, and the amour statues from the battle before the Great Escape had been replaced by evergreen trees, saturating the air with the familiar scents of the forest.
The drilling that had awoken me had indeed been people tampering with the walls. Four men, each with a drill in their hands, were filling the holes with screws and hanging round decorations of evergreen branches to hang on the wall.
It was bizarre to sense the forest inside this pristine place, but what was even more unnatural was the decorations they had bestrewn the evergreen trees with.
Colorful spheres, shiny and matte, hung from their branches, mixed with golden ornaments of the Iridis symbols.
What was going on?
I politely said good morning to the workers as I gracefully passed them, carefully observing everything that had changed as the night had turned into day. And it wasn't just the air wing. Everything had been redecorated with some sort of evergreen designs, and small lights, which I could imagine would create a cozy atmosphere when the daylight slipped.
Following my growling stomach, I first went to the dining hall to see if I could find any familiar faces, but the suitors were nowhere to be seen. Only the cleaning crew remained, and I thanked the spirits when I noticed they hadn't cleared the entire breakfast table yet. I said good morning and quickly grabbed a couple of toast and eggs to survive the morning.
Next, I headed toward the Parlor, which was the most logical place for them to be if they weren't in the dining hall or their rooms.
I swallowed the rest of my breakfast and wiped my hands in the napkin I'd brought, but before I grabbed the handle to enter, my eyes glimpsed of the door on the opposite wall — the door that hid the enormous library.
They didn't yet know that I was out of bed or wherever they believed I might be, so it wouldn't harm anyone if I had another swift look.
The handle to the Parlor slipped out of my fingers while my feet guided me to the opposite wall. I reached for the necklace that had previously granted me access and placed it on the surface of the magical door, eager to see the place and confirm that it hadn't just been my imagination playing a trick on me. Only, nothing happened.
The door didn't open like the last time, as if my access had been removed.
The pain of disappointment tore at my heart when I realized that I could never return to that place again, but I couldn't dwell on it out here. I wouldn't know how to explain why I was looking at a door that I probably wasn't supposed to have access to in the first place with teary eyes.
Reluctantly, I moved my palm from the door and stepped back to enter the Parlor, where the rest of the suitors were chatting merrily.
"Will!" Calla exclaimed as I entered the room, my eyes widening at the sight that greeted me. "We thought you might be sick."
"Good morning to you, too," I chuckled, joining them on the couch.
Multiple figures of the Sun were hanging from the ceiling, and dried slices of oranges — among other citrus fruits — decorated the windows or had been placed amongst the green decorations. That looked a bit more familiar and made a lot more sense than the trees and the greens.
The Winter Celebrations were about celebrating the Sun. The citrus fruits resembled that Sun and filled the air with the wonderful scent I associated with the Winter Celebrations.
I then noticed yellow candles surrounded by even more greens, pine cones, and slices of fruit in the windows and on the tables. I squinted my eyes to trace the design engraved into the wax and realized they were numbers from one to seven — as if it served as some sort of countdown.
"Where have you been?" Piper asked me before I'd sat down in the space between her and Calla.
"I overslept," I said, sighing heavily as if my body still hadn't realized it was time to wake up.
"Overslept? Did you fall asleep again after Faye came to wake you?"
"No," I muttered, massaging my palm as I bit my lower lip. "Faye didn't wake me. We had a minor dispute yesterday, and I think she may still be upset with me. Have you seen her today?"
Both Calla and Piper looked at me with questioning eyes, faintly shaking their heads. "What were you fighting about?" Calla whispered, leaning closer. "I don't mean to pry, but it sounds quite serious if she's still so mad she didn't care to wake you up. I mean, it's her job, isn't it?"
I carefully scanned my surroundings and found the perpetrator sitting in her queen chair, surrounded by her worshipers as if they thought she would help them win the prince's heart.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It was still beyond my comprehension why they kept glorifying her like some goddess. Alia was a selfish-minded person without regard for other people. My personal experiences inside the Battle Arena and outside were living proof of that.
It was an outrageous thought that she was what Faye and I had been discussing yesterday. I still couldn't believe Faye had taken the witch's side instead of mine, and now she was mad about it. Or maybe there was a rational explanation for her unusual absence.
"Perhaps she's sick... or something. We've had worse arguments than that, so she must've had a good reason for being absent today," I said."
"Sick?" Calla said as if she found that conclusion strange. "Don't they have protocols for when a chambermaid is si— Ouch!"
"That sounds a lot more reasonable than her being mad enough to leave her duties unchecked," Piper said, clenching her teeth as she glared sharply at Calla after mercilessly punching her arm.
I chuckled as Calla rubbed her sore bruise, pouting her bitter lips.
"So," I said, lowering my shoulders as I exhaled. "What's going on with all these strange decorations?"
"What do you mean?" Piper asked, confused. Calla didn't seem to find my question logical, either.
"You know," I said, looking at the different decorations to elaborate on the question, "the trees and the weird ornaments in here."
They still didn't seem to understand where I was going, so I decided to spell it out for them. "Why do we have trees inside?"
"Well, because of the Winter Celebrations, of course. Don't you celebrate this time in the Bronze Region?" Piper asked with a raised eyebrow.
I cleared my throat as I suddenly realized that the traditions I had known my entire life might not be the most common way to celebrate the Sun.
"We do celebrate the Sun, but we usually just decorate the houses with dried citrus fruits and place lights in every window on the night of the shortest day," I explained, my cheeks turning paler with every word that left my lips.
I knew by fact that the tradition of placing candlelight in the windows was as old as Heliac itself. In the past, it was believed that the flame would help bring back the Sun to ensure longer days and a better year for harvest. Today the candles merely serve as a tradition to remember our roots and honor our ancestors. Obviously, those aren't the only traditions of the Sun, but I didn't know about these.
"So, you have never associated the scents of the evergreens with the Winter Celebration?" Calla asked, her face stretched into an expression of utmost terror as if she felt horrified that I'd never experienced a Winter Celebration like theirs.
"No, and frankly, I'm not really sure I understand that part," I said and watched them both raise their eyebrows in disbelief. "The Winter Celebrations are about celebrating the Sun and everlasting life. So, how is cutting down a tree — a vital part of life — a celebration of life?"
They just looked at me, their eyes empty as they picked their brains apart for the right answer to explain the strange tradition. "I-I guess we've just always done it," Piper finally said. "It's something about the trees always staying green, but I can't really remember. It's been years since my mom told me that story."
"You're right. The Winter Celebrations are about celebrating the return of the Sun," a voice said behind me, too deep to be any of the suitors.
We turned our heads to see Caiden leaning on my backrest.
"But with the return of the Sun follows new life," he continued without looking directly at us but at the evergreen trees placed around the room, "and as you so delicately put it, Miss Aldwyn, trees are vital for the survival of every living organism on this planet, but the evergreen trees are a symbol of the undying life — the life that endures even when the Sun isn't here to warm us or awaken the dormant souls. They remain green and prosperous all year round, and we celebrate that life by bringing it into our homes, but plant two more trees in the sacrificed tree's place."
It sounded like a beautiful tradition when he put it like that, but there was one thing that still bugged me about it.
"Why decorate them?" I asked, suddenly realizing that many of the other suitors had joined our group to listen to Caiden's magical explanation.
"That is merely an addition to make the trees as festive as the rest of the celebration. I'm afraid there is no more to it than that," he said, chuckling lightly, "but it does add something extraordinarily vibrant to the atmosphere around us during the Winter Celebrations, wouldn't you agree?"
The other suitors nodded eagerly, but I hesitated — not because his explanation lacked sense but because I needed a minute to reprogram my brain to think as he did.
Caiden hadn't moved from the backrest in the time I'd remained silent. In fact, it felt like he'd leaned a little closer toward me, making the suspenders across his chest stretch and put even more pressure on his shoulders. His tie would probably be touching my shoulder if it hadn't been fastened to the white dress shirt by the golden tie clip.
Nerves tickled my nape as I felt his anticipatory shadow weighing on me, forcing me to provide my opinion of his story.
"I-I believe so. Thank you, Prince Atlas," I began, unsure what my mouth would spill before the words were on my lips. "It makes a lot more sense when it's explained like that. These traditions are still very new to me, but I'm sure I'll get used to this way of celebrating the Sun in no time."
Caiden nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "That is good to hear, Miss Aldwyn," he said with a smile before finally backing away from the backrest. "However, I did initially come here to invite all of you to the dining room for a little activity with me. Don't worry; it is not related to the Crown Trials, but I believe it may be a fitting way to commence the Winter Celebrations. The activity will start in half an hour, and I hope to see all of you there."
I held my breath, so I didn't sigh in hopelessness.
Caiden and his aggravating riddles. He was just like his uncle when it came to providing complex answers to simple questions and playful surprises.
"Do you think he's telling the truth, or do you think it's another trial?" Calla whispered just as Caiden exited the room.
"This early," Piper added. "It can't be. We've barely had the time to process the impressions from the first trial. Maybe it really just is a quiet event to ensure that we start the Winter Celebrations off well."
***
Half an hour may appear like a drop of water in a vast ocean compared to the time frame of his previous surprises, but it still felt like an eternity.
After anxiously waiting for the allotted time, we all agreed that it was safe to start moving toward the dining hall as a unified group. Of course, Alia immediately took the lead.
It wasn't the first time she'd done that; I'd just stopped questioning it verbally now. As long as she didn't directly bother me, I couldn't care less about what she preferred doing.
We arrived, and Alia opened the doors to let herself in before anyone else. Rolling my eyes, we followed into the dining room soon after, and the strong scent of spruce and other earthy fragrances immediately hit me.
The entire middle of the long table was covered with branches from evergreen trees and all kinds of different decorative materials — everything from dried fruit to stones and fabric, all meant to create various ornaments.
"Welcome, ladies," Caiden said, revealing his presence by the end of the table, joined by his siblings and the king. "A royal winter tradition here in the castle is to make a sun wreath, which I thought could be an enjoyable activity to do together. So, find an available chair around the table and discover your inner artist to create your personalized sun wreath to hang by the door to your chambers."
Our inner artist.
I wasn't even sure I had one of those. However, before I could think of an excuse to escape this nightmare, Piper dragged Calla and me to two chairs beside her.
"We do this at home, too!" she chuckled quietly and grabbed a branch to get started. Calla shrugged and did the same soon after, as if she'd done this before, too. I just kept staring at all the options presented before me.
There was a lot of green, a few pieces of red, and a good amount of yellow too, but I had no idea what to do with it.
"Piper?" I muttered to get her attention, even though she seemed thoroughly invested in her project.
"What?" Piper replied with a whisper.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked and grabbed a branch in each of my hands to emphasize that I had no idea what I was doing.
Piper looked at me with disbelief in her eyes. "You've never made a wreath before, either?" she asked, unable to continue working on her own masterpiece.
I shook my head and waited for her hungry response. "Well! I'd be delighted to teach you!" she almost yelled and tossed her green circle on the table to help me.
"First, you grab the wireframe," she said and grabbed the simple circular steel frame. "Then you begin by attaching the end of this reel wire to the frame before you attach branches, moss, or leaves — or whatever you feel like — to the frame until your wreath is complete."
She made it look so simple, and I nearly believed it was that simple until she placed the wreath frame in my hands, leaving me to do the rest of the work.
I swallowed my anxious nerves, grabbed the reel wire and a branch, and got started. However, it was hard not to swear after my fifth attempt to make something that even remotely looked like the things Piper was making dozens of in a matter of minutes. Worst of all, I hadn't even started the challenging tasks yet.
Now I had to design the damned thing to make it personal.
I looked around to see if I could steal an idea from someone else, but everyone seemed to be doing the same thing. I didn't want to do that, so I closed my eyes and tried recalling what the Winter Celebrations were about for me.
Family? Hot chocolate? Lights?
Then it hit me, and I almost felt like slapping myself for not realizing it sooner. The Sun — the entire heart of our traditions.
I gathered one large stone and several smaller ones until I could form a beige stone representation of the Sun in front of me, filling the hole of the wreath.
"Woaw, that's beautiful!" Kaia said beside me. "I've never seen a wreath like that before."
Kaia had been inspired by the snow-covered landscape outside. Aside from the traditional evergreen branches embracing the wreath frame, she had mixed in pine cones, small red and white berries, and a few dwarf-Philadelphia flowers, matching the white powder, which made it look like it had been snowing inside.
It was beautiful but very different from mine. "Yours is gorgeous, too, Kaia," I said, my lips stretching into an admiring smile.
We continued talking and exchanging ideas for new wreaths until we had to stop to attend our lessons in Golden History with Mrs. Perino.
The days continued like this.
With each passing day and each group activity, more and more homemade decorations started to appear throughout the castle, eventually making their way to my own room.
I had a decoration on the table where I usually kept the books I was reading. The window shelves were brimming with festive candle holders, including a winter log with one large candlelight emerging from the evergreen and red berries covering the top of the log.
We baked cinnamon cookies a couple of days ago, and the entire area surrounding the dining hall still smells like cinnamon. I used to love that scent, but now it just had a nauseating effect on me. However, one activity seemed to recur every day.
The lanterns.
Every day, after lunch, we were required to sit down and make a new lantern until the day of the Rising Sun arrived — a celebration that would turn out to be about more than merely good food and music, eventually shedding new light on something I thought I'd buried a long time ago.