Chapter 78 Chapter Seventy-Eight
Lyressa studied her reflection in the mirror, its surface polished so smooth it reflected every detail with merciless clarity. Platinum hair spilled over her shoulders in soft waves, the delicate crown resting upon her head catching the pale glow of enchanted lanterns that lined the hall.
She adjusted a loose strand near her temple, tilting her chin slightly.
“Your Majesty?”
Lyressa glanced up.
Three figures stood waiting near the archway of the chamber—draped in pale robes threaded with faint threads of silver and gold. The Seers.
The same three women who had served the court for generations, their strange gift both a blessing and a burden.
Lyressa straightened quickly and gave a small, apologetic smile as she turned toward them.
“I’m sorry,” she said lightly as she stepped away from the mirror. “I know it’s vain, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t have something stuck in my teeth before addressing the entire court.”
One of the seers smiled gently.
“You look lovely, Your Majesty.”
Lyressa approached them, smoothing the front of her gown as she walked. The confidence she carried before the court had not quite reached her chest this morning. As she stopped beside them, she placed a hand lightly over her heart.
“I’m nervous,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve addressed the court before, of course—but never over something so serious.”
Another seer stepped forward, her voice warm with quiet reassurance.
“You will do just fine. The court trusts you. They simply need the reassurance of their queen.”
Lyressa exhaled slowly.
“I wish you could simply have one of your visions and tell me what is happening to the young Seelie women,” she said with a weary half-smile. “It would make things considerably easier.”
The third seer shook her head gently.
“It does not work that way, My Queen.”
Lyressa looked at her expectantly.
“Our visions are not answers,” the seer continued. “They are fragments. Brief glimpses of moments that exist somewhere along the threads of fate. We see prophetic figures… signs… symbols… events that must one day unfold.”
Her gaze softened.
“But never the path between them.”
The first seer nodded in agreement.
“We are shown what will matter,” she said quietly, “but never enough to change the course of it.”
“Prophecy is not meant to guide the future,” the second added. “Only to reveal that it is already moving.”
Lyressa fell silent for a moment, absorbing that.
Then she sighed softly.
“Well,” she murmured, glancing toward the great doors that led to the waiting court, “that’s not nearly as helpful as I’d hoped.”
Lyressa drew in a steady breath and turned toward the towering double doors.
They opened with a soft, ceremonial creak.
Sunlight spilled inward.
Warm. Golden. Alive.
Lyressa stepped through.
The Seelie courtyard stretched wide before her, a breathtaking expanse of white marble terraces and living gardens that seemed to glow beneath the morning sun. Where the Unseelie court thrived in shadow and quiet magic, the Seelie realm flourished in light.
Everything here breathed.
Vines heavy with silver blossoms curled along the carved columns. Crystal fountains spilled ribbons of clear water into shallow pools where luminous fish darted beneath lily pads the size of shields. Trees with pale bark and shimmering leaves arched over the courtyard, their branches catching the sunlight and scattering it into thousands of dancing reflections across the marble floor.
The sun touched everything.
And everything answered.
Flowers opened wider.
Water sparkled brighter.
Even the air itself felt lighter, warm currents stirring through the courtyard like a living thing.
The Seelie gathered below her in graceful rows—nobles, warriors, scholars, attendants—all turning their faces toward their queen as Lyressa descended the steps toward the central dais.
She carried herself with quiet authority, every movement composed despite the nervousness she had confessed only moments earlier.
And somewhere deep within the dream—
Kaelani watched.
It was strange experiencing the memory from within Lyressa’s body. Every movement felt natural and unfamiliar all at once. Her hands were Lyressa’s hands. Her breath moved through Lyressa’s lungs. Yet Kaelani’s mind lingered quietly beneath the surface, observing the moment as it unfolded.
Soraya’s voice echoed faintly in her memory.
She had told this story before.
About the day the Seelie Queen addressed the court.
About the beginning of the illness.
About the moment everything started to unravel.
So far… everything matched.
Every word.
Every movement.
Everything unfolded exactly the way Soraya had described.
Lyressa reached the center of the courtyard and turned to face her court.
But something tugged at Kaelani’s awareness.
A quiet instinct.
Because when she reached outward—carefully—trying to peer deeper into Lyressa’s thoughts, searching for the treachery Soraya had sworn existed…
She found nothing.
No bitterness.
No hidden rage.
No shadow of betrayal.
Only concern.
Concern for her people.
Concern for the young women who had begun falling ill without explanation.
Confusion.
Fear.
None of it felt like the heart of someone preparing to betray an entire realm.
Kaelani pressed further into the memory, trying to reach deeper into Lyressa’s mind.
To see more.
To understand what had truly happened.
But the moment she tried—
The world stopped.
Not violently.
Not abruptly.
Just… still.
The courtyard froze around her.
Water halted mid-fall from the fountains.
Leaves hung suspended in the air.
Even the sunlight seemed trapped in place.
And Lyressa’s consciousness turned inward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Toward her.
And with quiet authority, Lyressa sealed the moment in place.
Right here.
In this single breath of time.
As if she had chosen this exact point in history for Kaelani to see.
Kaelani decided not to push any further.
Some instinct told her to give Lyressa control and she wasn’t really sure why she trusted it. She just did.
Kaelani had never been someone who believed a single story held the whole truth.
There were always two sides.
Always more beneath the surface.
And something in her gut whispered that Lyressa had never truly been given the chance to tell hers.
So Kaelani stepped back.
And the memory continued.
Time shifted around her like pages turning.
Weeks passed.
Then more.
The Seelie Court fell under a slow, tightening shadow as more young women were found dead—each discovery deepening the unease that had begun to spread through the court. Lyressa searched relentlessly for answers, calling upon every advisor, scholar, and healer within the court.
Nothing.
Even her most trusted voices—her generals and commanders—had little to offer beyond speculation and empty theories.
Until one meeting changed everything.
Her general had spoken carefully, as if he already knew the suggestion would not be welcomed.
Perhaps… it was time to seek help from the other court.
Lyressa had gone still.
Kaelani could feel the hesitation ripple through her like a stone dropped into water.
To ask the Unseelie for aid would not simply be a political decision.
It would be an admission of weakness.
An acknowledgment that the Seelie Queen could not protect her own people.
And worse—
the Unseelie did not even have a king or queen at the time.
Only a prophecy.
A long-whispered promise that one day a ruler would rise among them and bring balance to their wild, unruly people.
If such a thing were even possible.
The thought carried a quiet edge of doubt—one Lyressa never voiced aloud.
Kaelani felt it anyway.
These were Lyressa’s private thoughts.
Her unspoken judgments of the other court.
Yet even as Kaelani absorbed them, something else settled into her mind with quiet certainty.
The feeling likely went both ways.
The Seelie and Unseelie had spent centuries seeing each other through the narrow lens of rivalry—each court convinced of its own righteousness while quietly cataloging the other’s flaws.
It reminded Kaelani of politics in the mortal world.
Two sides drawing lines in the sand, convinced the other stood on the wrong side of truth.
Even though both were built from the same imperfect foundations.
And neither had the right to judge the other.
Despite her hesitation, Lyressa knew she could not allow pride—or prejudice—to cloud her judgment.
This was no longer about reputation.
It was about her people.
Young women of the Seelie Court were dying, and with each passing week the fear spreading through the court grew harder to contain. Whatever was responsible had already slipped beyond the reach of her advisors, her commanders… even the Seers.
If there was a chance the other court could help, she had to take it.
Even if it meant inviting them into matters the Seelie had always guarded closely.
So Lyressa agreed.
Word was sent across the veil between courts, requesting counsel from the Unseelie.
The response came sooner than expected.
They did not send a general.
They sent a commander.
Not just any commander—but one whose name was already spoken with a certain reluctant respect even within the Seelie Court. A strategist. A warrior. A figure whose reputation had traveled far beyond the borders of the darker realm.
Draevyn.
He agreed to meet with Queen Lyressa and her council within the Seelie throne room.
The day he arrived, the court gathered in quiet anticipation.
Lyressa stood at the foot of her throne as the great doors opened.
And for a single, fleeting moment—
her heart forgot how to beat.
He stepped through the doors with an easy confidence that filled the chamber before a single word was spoken.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dark hair falling loosely to the collar of a travel-worn cloak that did little to hide the strength beneath it.
His features were striking in the way only the Unseelie ever seemed to be—sharp where Seelie beauty was soft, shadowed where Seelie light was radiant. And his eyes…
Storm-colored.
Steel gray with something deeper moving beneath the surface.
The courts had always shared certain physical traits.
Seelie were known for their illuminated beauty—platinum hair, ocean-blue eyes, features that reflected the brightness of their court.
The Unseelie were their mirror in darker glass—obsidian hair, silver or steel eyes, beauty carved from shadow rather than sunlight.
Lyressa had seen many Unseelie in her time.
Diplomats.
Envoys.
Even soldiers during the rare moments their courts crossed paths.
But Draevyn—
Draevyn simply wore it better.