// fairy light festivals | part 02 //
My leotards and tutus hung by the armoire. They begged to be worn. I would stroke the muslin, the tulle, the tarlatan and remember the dance studio back home.
My body ached to dance again. To stretch, to assume position — to hear music again. Despite the wonders of Eternity, it lacked music. And I missed it. Did Eternity have music outside the rustle of plantlife and the call of wild creatures?
I readjusted my collection of ballet slippers on the empty shelving. I hummed Panic! at the Disco songs to myself. I glanced at my cell phone, trying to will it to power on so I could listen to music; see old photos of Mari, Evette, Don, and Annalyse; check the political climate of Earth. But technology didn't work here.
Maybe there was a way to get it functioning. Some kind of intergalactic wiring so I could FaceTime my sister — long-distance call between Earth and Eternity.
Still humming, I lifted to my toes, arms outstretched. I practiced the positions, pretending Michelle watched me, ready to bark corrections.
I was procrastinating.
I was armed with my plan of action: I would explore Eternity and all the planet had to offer, I would get to know the Prince, I would eventually solve the mysteries surrounding the Eslyr family.
Instead, I spent my free time wandering the castle, memorizing the labyrinthian halls so I didn't always require a guide everywhere I went — avoiding the Prince.
Eika would fetch me for mealtimes. Often, I would eat alone. But sometimes, King Hadeth and the Prince would join me. The King, as usual, would chatter ceaselessly. And each time I looked at Prince Rune and the flames in his eyes, I would freeze. Did he have feelings for me, like I suspected? I would focus on my food and speak not a single word the entire time. I acted as though he didn't sit directly across from me as we ate.
Otherwise, I procrastinated putting my plan into action. A part of me latched onto my homesickness, like it became a part of my identity. Another part of me feared that I would grow to love Eternity — and in turn, I would forget home.
Flatfooted once again, I huffed, pushed my hair out of my face, and marched out the door. I was done. Done hiding. Done running.
And so, I sought out the Prince.
The Prince turned out to be an elusive character. During the trials, it felt like I could bump into him at any given moment. When I rested in the infirmary, he existed as a constant in my periphery. But when I tried to find him on purpose, he vanished.
I wandered to the back balcony. Folding my arms atop the banister, I stared out at the endless miles of green. The castle gardens housed constant movement: flowers grew and shrunk, petals snapped open and closed, tree trunks leaned, vines whipped and slithered.
My mind painted a picture of a past Eternity. Galas hosted on this very balcony, the castle lit up with glowing plants and laugher and music. Was it possible to return to that? Was it naïve to try?
"Lost in reverie?" a deep voice asked.
I yelped, hand at my chest. The Prince stood below the balcony, before the garden. He tilted his head, smirking as though amused.
"Sorry," I said automatically. As I headed down the stairs, I kept a hand on the banister, pretending, just for a second, that I entered a grand ball.
Once I stood in front of Prince Rune, I peered up at him. The top of my head only came up to his shoulders. Without fear of another trial, I studied him freely.
Sharp cheekbones tried to push through his skin, which was pulled so tight his cheeks had sunk in and his brow-bone protruded. His lips were thin and pale, his eyes dark and intense. Strange jewels, like black diamonds, settled into his skin, traveling from the edge of his left eye to the left corner of his mouth.
He was not what I had envisioned when someone mentioned a prince. He was not dashing or charming or classically attractive.
Yet there was something in those shadow eyes that kept me captivated.
A small smile tugged on my lips. "Someone told me that the royal family used to host balls and pageants once, right? Before the trials became like this."
His eyes focused on the balcony above me. "Yes, they did, long before I was born."
"So you've never been to one?"
He shook his head. "No. But they say the citizens would sing and dance in their finest." The Prince took slow steps about the garden, expression distant as though he had traveled back in time, to the age of galas. "Yllumin grew along the banisters and in the boughs and trunks of the gardens. Creatures danced and talked and drank. It was — simple."
My brows furrowed. "What's yllumin?"
Prince Rune glanced at me from over his shoulder. "A flower. It glows. It's most often used for festivals. Or balls and pageants and galas."
"Wait. You said it grew on the banisters? A flower can grow on — on concrete?"
He nodded once.
"How?"
Now his lips dipped, and an eyebrow quirked. "Biology?"
I laughed, then tugged on a strand of hair. "The way Eternity works baffles me."
The Prince wandered back to my side and a smirk played on his mouth. "Eternity is not governed by Earth's rules, maiden."
As I stared into his eyes, the image of the King shrouded in sadness sprung to my mind. The King had lost his wife, and Prince Rune had lost his mother. Was that the tragedy that had been etched into the dark circles beneath his eyes and into the whorls of his irises?
When I thought of his past, I imagined him alone in the vast, sad castle. And my heart broke.
I had been taken away from my home, but his home had been taken from him.
The least I could do was offer my friendship.
"Your Highness," a servant said, bowing. "Maiden." She bowed to me. "Your Highness, your company is requested."
"Of course." The Prince's mouth was set in a line. "If you'd excuse me." He lowered his head and disappeared into the castle.
I stood in his wake, heart aching. I had been so consumed with my homesickness, I hadn't been able to see the person who would be most hurt if no one had won — if I had left.
"I want to do something for him," I decided, and went off in search of a gardener.
"You want yllumin seeds?" Kit quirked a brow at me as he shelved a book in one of the many libraries. (He hadn't been outside like I'd expected, and the castle was so large, the hunt for him had taken much longer than I would've liked.)
I nodded.
He leaned against the shelves and placed a hand on his hip. "First, how do you even know about yllumin? And second, why would you want them?"
"The Prince. He told me about how you'd grow them for parties. He also told me that he's never been to a party, so I want to host one for him. Or at least have him see one. And — y'know, I wanna see it too."
Kit regarded me a moment, his green eyes dazzling. A slow grin ghosted onto his mouth. "You and the Prince spoke about parties, huh? And you want him to experience one now. Huh. Interesting."
I didn't miss the suggestive look he had shot me. I rolled my eyes in response. "It's not like that, Kit. I just figured he deserves some light fun, right?"
His smile became soft. "I think I understand how you survived the Bride Competition."
"What do you mean?"
"You orient yourself differently." He clapped his hand on my shoulder. "Meet me in the gardens. I'll teach you about yllumin."
Yllumin was a small, yellow flower with blue spots. Its scent was reminscent of incense. Larger than sanatóre at least, the flower still couldn't have been bigger than my fingernails.
Yllumin seeds looked like blue glitter and felt like grain. A single pinch could plant hundreds and, as I learned, it actually took lots of practice to not end up with a mini garden — especially if you wanted the flower to grow on something like a doorframe.
Just as Prince Rune had said, yllumin bloomed wherever you wanted. Kit and I had sprinkled a pinch on the spine of an old book, flicked some water on the seeds, and watched as a couple dozen glowing flowers sprouted instantaneously before our eyes.
Kit informed me that yllumin had a short lifespan: after "one Earth hour" they curled inward and fell to the floor before their sparkling seeds vanished in a puff of dazzling dust.
Kit had given me a small pouch of yllumin seeds to plant at my will. But I couldn't ask for more — supply was limited.
However, I had to see these flowers in a mimic of nighttime, to witness their glow. So I raced to my room, drew the red curtains across the windows, and hopped onto my bed. With the tiniest pinch I could manage, I sprinkled the seeds along the bedposts and comforter.
After lightly dousing them in water, the flowers bloomed and I stared on in awe. At first it was a pale blue glow, but once they fully bloomed, the yllumin gave off a strong golden luminescence.
Sighing, I settled back in my bed and bathed in the light of the flowers. They reminded me of the fairy lights I had strung about my bedroom back home.
My memory took me to summer, three years ago. Annalyse and I had strung fairy lights across her ceiling. We spent almost every night dancing beneath their gentle glow until four a.m., until we fell asleep in exhaustion.
A hollow ache settled in my chest as I listened to the quiet. I wanted the silence to fill with birdsong and synthesized beats and cars honking in traffic jams and rainstorms. I wanted the giggles of sleepovers and the disgruntled shouts of sore losers. I missed the single slit of light underneath Dad's office door at midnight.
I cried softly until the flowers disappeared in a puff of blue dust. Then I bathed to wash away the cold of homesickness and to rid my face of the evidence that I'd cried. I refused to wallow and ruminate — mope around like a hatchling. At last, I grabbed the pouch of yllumin seeds and headed for the garden.
With careful precision, I placed the glittering seeds on the banister of the balcony and the staircase railings. I even attempted to throw some on the base of the balcony (they were surprisingly adhesive), but my aim was off. The seeds floated to my feet.
I volleyed between the courtyard's small spring and the balcony. After what felt like forever, all the yllumin bloomed, lighting up the back balcony and staircase.
A smile stole across my face at the sight. I envisioned music and Victorian dresses and dancing and electric blue drinks in polished claws and scaly hands. If only I could make such a thing a reality.
I turned to the trees and flowers behind me to sprinkle seed over them when a figure emerged from a shadow, saying, "Maiden, what are you—"
The Prince stopped short. His eyes widened, trailing up the staircase to the glowing balcony and banisters. "What is this?"
Smiling, I stood beside him and clasped my hands behind my back. "The yllumin is quite illuminating, isn't it?" When he just blinked at me, I cleared my throat. "Um. Well, neither of us had seen this. So I wanted us to have a chance to see it for ourselves."
Prince Rune trained his gaze on me, the dancing flames in his eyes a mixture of disbelief and imploration. His mouth opened as though to speak but he stayed silent.
My voice dropped to a near whisper. "I want to give you at least this."
He stared at the flowers again, their yellow glow reflected in his coal eyes. He also whispered, "Thank you."