Fairer Than Fae

Prologue: The Price of Idle Words

The unnatural shadows on the walls of the royal bed chamber went unnoticed as the king and his wife hung over the crib of their first born.

"She is the loveliest creature," the young king murmured as he gently rocked the child to sleep, the baby's pearly fists grasping the lacy coverlet her mother had draped over her.

The queen ran a frail hand over the baby's smooth brow. "She is otherworldly."

The king recoiled at the phrase. Dark whispers had plagued him since birth. No one knew what had happened to his mother when she became lost in the wild nine months before his birth. She was found on the Weton Steppes, her eyes glassy and speech strange. She died soon after he was born, wasting away over the cruelest winter the Kingdom of Beodor had ever seen. Though the king's father had named his only son as successor, he never truly accepted him.

Queen Alwina cast an uncertain glance towards her silent husband. "Though still, very much ours."

King Galimar gave a half smile that faded swiftly. "Of course. Yet, even I cannot deny it. This child of ours... our little Livue... she is more fair than even the Fae."

A taper burning in a nearby sconce flickered out with a sharp breath of wind, the tapestry hanging beside it trembling as the shadows flickered and molded into a human like shape. Galimar and Alwina, caught up in wonderment of their infant, did not notice the single golden eye that blinked into being like a flame. It studied the touching scene with contempt. The eye was doused and disembodied shadow faded from the wall.

But it was not the last the King and Queen of Beodor would see of it, their idle words spoken in private doomed to haunt them.

***

"The way those mortals fawn over their younglings, it's grotesque," Foxfrost groused, twirling a frostbitten curl around a skeletal finger. She snapped the strand of hair in two, the curl melting to the dark wooden floor of the corridor.

Meadowmoon rolled her mint green eyes and finished off the last of the sweet wine in her rosewood cup. "Are you still envious of that mortal queen after all these years?"

Foxfrost, the winter sister, turned her single, golden eye on Meadowmoon, her other eye only a faded scar. Born at the height of summer, Meadowmoon's golden brown skin and thick black hair radiated warmth of their own, her curls fanning around her head like rays of the solstice sun. The statuesque figure of the third sister, Leafwind, approached them from the twisting entrance hall of the faerie court.

"What is she complaining about now?" Leafwind asked, her voice a perplexing mixture of sarcasm and innocent humor. It was difficult to be angry with Leafwind, the autumn sister of the three, yet Foxfrost could always find a reason when it suited her.

"I am merely insulted, as you should be. As all those of the Fae should be," Foxfrost spoke, tugging back the black shadow of her shawl from her icy head.

Leafwind's rustling laughter swept the quiet corner of the hall like a swift breeze. "You are too sensitive, little sister."

Foxfrost bristled at her tone, but kept her face as emotionless as an empty looking glass. "I do not believe that the Lord and Lady will be so dismissive of my claims when they call court in a few moments."

Meadowmoon gave a vague smile of interest. "You plan to bring it up? Something so slight?"

The powerful winter fairy crooked a jet black eyebrow, the skin on her forehead shimmering with ice flakes. "Slight perhaps, yet it may play into our favor, dear sisters." She turned to leave in a gust of grey shadow.