DreamCrafter | ONC 2023 | DISCONTINUED

Chapter 7 ~ Off with Her Head

My apartment feels so familiar, yet so unfamiliar at the same time. After sitting empty for almost a week, dust hangs in the air. I can see it flying around, catching the sunlight. The shelf of orbs has been almost completely covered in the stuff. With all this dust, home doesn't feel like home anymore.

My home is standing outside a kitchen, a day's travel away. But they rejected you, and now you have to deal with that, I tell myself.  It was partly my fault, I suppose. Could've seen the signs sooner, spoke up when they were close to me. So many little things that could have changed the outcome. No point to thinking about it now, they're gone. They decided I wasn't worth their attention and rejected a sacred bond.

"Good to be home?" Lapis asks, standing in my doorway. All I can see of him is a silhouette with golden hair. I don't know why he's here, but I'll find out.

"Home is where the heart is," I answer, and my heart is currently in pieces scattered across Inenara. It's almost like I've left a trail of breadcrumbs, following me across the isle.

"And where might your heart be?" Lapis steps across the threshold. Tall and imposing, although his wings are still tucked tightly behind him. If he spread those, my apartment would shrink in size dramatically.

I dump my bags onto the table and turn to face the Heir. Deep breaths, I remind myself.

"Where it has been since I was born. Under my rib cage,"

"They say our hearts are monsters, and that's why our ribs are cages. Is your heart a monster, DreamCrafter?" Lapis tilts his head to the side. Blue eyes study me, watching the way my chest rises and falls. He steps closer, and my breathing intensifies.

"Whose heart isn't? Whose heart has never betrayed them?" I ask, mimicking his actions, plus crossing my arms. I let my eyelids close a little over my eyes. Siren eyes, I've heard them called.

"Well said, DreamCrafter, well said." With those final words, he's gone.

I start unpacking, throwing my clothes into drawers.The red evening gown is near the top, the fabric is slightly crinkled from travel. I smooth it out, enjoying the feel of the silky fabric. This gets hung carefully in the closet, with a sheet over it to prevent bugs from eating the fabric.

I finally reach the bottom of the bag, and a piece of folded up paper sits there. I chuck it on the table, and throw my bags into their home in a closet. They won't be getting used anytime soon.

A bell starts ringing, somewhere in the Court's center. The bells only ring when something big is happening, so I walk to the front door. I catch my reflection in a mirror as I walk past, and I look exhausted.

Everyone is walking towards the court center. I join the flow of people. No one pushes me away, or pulls their children closer. My hands go to my face, and the rhinestones aren't there. Maybe I should go out without them more often.

~*~*~

The High Lord stands on a platform that has been erected in the normally bustling marketplace. Lapis stands at his right, and Stella at his left. The High Lord's wife is kneeling in front of him, shaking.

"Good fae of the Summer Court." The Lord starts his address, voice booming across the crowds.

"We have gathered you here today to witness something monumental in our history,"

The High Lord drones on for a while, just recounting the history of the twin isles.

"And I invite my son and heir, Lapis, to come tell you what he discovered." The Lord steps back, his hand pushing Lapis forward.

Lapis clears his throat. He's trying to put on that he's confident, but it isn't quite working. Small things slip out of the cracks in his demeanor. He'll shake every so often, or lick his lips.

"Whilst we were in the Spring Court, I stumbled across correspondence addressed to my mother. However, something about the letter was off. At first, I could not place it, but my darling sister saw the fault. The paper and ink were Unseelie," his voice may be strong, but it wavers near the end.

A gasp rises from the crowd, and fae start to whisper. Unofficial correspondence with the Unseelie is forbidden.

"Although it may be a tragedy, betrayed by my own wife, an example must be made," the High Lord says. His wife squeezes her eyes shut and her shaking intensifies.

"Execution, execution!" The crowd starts chanting. I don't join in. Stella is shaking and has her fist pressed against her mouth.

Seelie fae are so against Unseelie that they would willingly execute their High Lord's wife for receiving a letter from one. It doesn't matter what the contents were, or if she never even sent a letter to them.

"To have a fair trial, we must allow the condemned to speak for themselves." The High Lord's seneschal waves his hands, silencing the crowd.

"Rise, Aine." Lapis pulls his mother to her feet. Ever the Lady of the Seelie, she stands regal. Head held high, hands clasped in front of her. Any last murmurs in the crowd hush when she starts to speak.

"I may have received the letter, but I never sent one. The contents were a warning from the young Unseelie Lord's seneschal. The Dowager Lady wishes to take our son's betrothed as a bride for her own son, to fulfill an ancient prophecy. May I ask you, Aster, if you ever read the letter?" Aine turns her focus to her husband.

"The Dowager Lady? They say she perished many years ago, alongside her husband. Fetch me the letter." Aster waves a hand, and a servant brings the letter forward. The seneschal unfolds it, and starts reading.

Green eyes and auburn hair flash from under the servant cap. It can't be. They shouldn't be here.

"She speaks truth, my Lord," the seneschal bows, and hands the letter to the High Lord.

"Let the people decide." Aine turns to the muddle of fae, her once loyal subjects, and bows.

A singular voice, buried deep inside the crowd, yells. "Why did the Unseelie seneschal send her the letter and not our High Lord?"

The fae agree. Execution chants start again. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Stella leave, and move to follow. Or try to. The throng of people has made it near impossible to move, and the chants have drowned out anything that's happening on the platform.

I finally make it to an exit, but before I leave, the former Lady of the Seelie's head rolls.