THE ONLY PRINCE [High Fantasy Quest Adventure w/ Fae Romance]

Chapter Fourteen

AUNT ELORA'S CHAIR is empty when I walk in.

Morning light streams in through the tall kitchen windows, casting long shadows across the room.

The once inviting space, with its polished oak cabinets and gleaming hanging copper pots, usually invokes nothing but comfort- A well-stocked pantry boasting jars of preserves and pickled delicacies, a vase of picked wildflowers decorating the rustic dining table, and the hearth fire crackling merrily. But it all suddenly pales in her absence, and the air around me thickens with a sense of dread. My father's movements seem slower, almost deliberate, as he stirs.

I can still faintly detect the scent of Aunt Elora's favorite jasmine perfume, but it is quickly overpowered by freshly cooked food that my father has prepared for our breakfast. The aroma of hot baked blueberry oatmeal bread, a scramble of seafood, and rich lobster hash fills the room.

All my favorites.

But the smell does little to dispel the unease settling in my chest.

I'm afraid if he recognizes the tea didn't work, he'll use something else to make me forget. Maybe he even put something in the food. I shake the thought out of my head, forcing a smile as I approach him, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Good morning," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

He turns to face me, and my father's eyes widen, a flicker of recognition passing through them.

Orion takes in the rich fabric of my mother's dress. His gaze lingers on the intricate pattern of lace at the hem, a memory stirring in his eyes. His voice, when he finally speaks, is tight with restrained tension.

"Morning," he says, tone carefully neutral. "Your mother's dress." He notes, masking his expression with a hint of a smile.

I nod, relief flooding through me at his reaction. He hasn't noticed anything amiss. Not yet, at least.

"You look lovely." The more I look the more I notice his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. Orion's face falters for just a moment with guilt, before he turns back, busying himself with stirring the pan.

Good.

I swallow hard before managing, "Thank you. I don't know why, I just felt like wearing it today."

I occupy myself with setting the table, willing my hands not to tremble. Aunt Elora's absence weighs heavy in the room, a gaping hole where her presence should be. Despite my efforts to keep up appearances, the silence between us feels suffocating. Watching him closely, my stomach churns with anxiety. I want to bring up Aunt Elora, to ask my father about her absence from the table. But the words stick in my throat like glue, refusing to budge. At the back of my mind is an inkling of what I'm supposed to believe- The village celebrated Storm Rites as usual, and I'm not meant to have any memory after yesterday morning.

I take a deep breath, reminding myself that he is still my father, despite everything else. Did 17 years of raising me count for nothing?

"Where's Aunt Elora?" I comment, motioning towards the vacant spot at the table.

Orion's hand hesitates over the pan, the sizzle of cooking seafood filling the heavy silence between us. His back remains turned to me, as though he needs a moment to collect himself before responding.

He clears his throat, setting the utensil down with deliberate care before turning to face me. "She... has fallen sick," My father lies, his gaze avoiding mine. "It happened last night. We didn't wake you because we didn't want to worry you. Eustace believes she needs specialized treatment that can only be found further inland. She left at dawn this morning."