The Open Sky: Eternal Forest Saga - Book 3

Chapter 3

 Dewdrop kept checking herself in the mirror. She'd done her makeup hours ago but still worried that it wasn't perfect. She'd long since dressed herself in the extravagantly ornate attire that signified a faerie of her station. But every time she stepped away from the mirror, her mind began to play tricks on her. She'd remember imperfections that were never there, mistakes her thoughts had conjured out of nothing.

The grand ballroom of the palace was still empty save for her. At sunrise, she'd awoken in her tiny, hidden apartment below the royal hall. It had actually been a bit later than she normally woke up, but sleep hadn't been coming easily as of late. Closing her eyes at night sent her mind spinning into a chaotic frenzy. She had the Temple breathing down her neck. Seryan Ladybug had visited her some days before, informing her in secret of Silvermist's corruption.

The two faerie leaders had spoken for hours there in the palace. Dewdrop had managed to rally the citizenry or Windsong to stand up to Tranquility's bullying, but that was before learning just how dark the Grand Seryan's heart had truly become. The royal order of faerie assassins, the Rose Thorns, stayed vigilant in their patrols of the territory. But Silvermist was as crafty as she was dangerous, and Dewdrop worried that no amount of planning would help her to out-think the Grand Seryan.

As if these troubles weren't enough to keep the Rose of Windsong from finding rest, news had come the previous morning that caused her heart to race and her palms to sweat. Sparrow, the captain of the Thorns, would be returning today from her secret mission to the human city of Meadowgold. The skilled assassin had been absent for several days now, sent on an errand only the two of them knew the details of. She was eager to hear her report, to learn the details of all she'd discovered. But she was more eager just to see her face again.

Dewdrop checked her reflection again. Her powdered skin was still as white as snow. Her lips were plump and glossy with brilliant crimson. Everything was still flawless, but to her, it was all wrong. This was the same face, the same mask, that everyone in Windsong saw. It was the face of the Rose, the almost goddess-like ruler of the faerie world; more of a symbol than a person. It was a face that commanded respect, inspired thousands, and embodied the centuries of tradition it upheld.

But it wasn't the face she wanted Sparrow to see.

Sparrow had lost track of how long she'd been standing outside at the palace entrance. Each time she'd raise a fist to knock on the ornately carved doors, she paused and then set it back at her side. There was no one else around, no centuries posted, no faeries of great influence in attendance. The branches high atop the tree that help the palace aloft were still and quiet. The sun was shining brightly, although the chill of approaching autumn was in the air.

A gentle wind played with her hair, pushing her white bangs into her face. There was a knot in her stomach that tightened each time she attempted to knock on the door. With no one else around, she wasn't entirely sure who she would see on the other side. Just before leaving on her secret mission, the Rose had shown her something no faerie was ever supposed to see. The queen had addressed her as Dewdrop, the woman behind the makeup and the crown.

Faerie law and tradition dictated that the Rose abandoned her old life when she took up her station. No one was ever to see the Faerie Queene in such a state. Yet when Dewdrop invited her into her private chamber, she removed her makeup and elegant gown. Sparrow didn't see a queen that night, but a normal faerie woman. She didn't receive orders, but rather a request for a favor. It was all very personal, very casual, and very illegal.

Sparrow raised her fist to knock again but still couldn't bring her knuckles to strike the wooden surface. She didn't want to admit what she was actually thinking. The last time she'd seen Dewdrop, she was so scared of the consequences that she was in a rush to get away. She thought she'd never want to see her queen that way again. But as the days took her further from that moment, Dewdrop's face was all she could think about. Sparrow's knee still felt warm whenever she thought of Dewdrop's hand resting upon it. When she raised her hand again to knock, she knew she had to admit the truth to herself. She wasn't scared that she might see Dewdrop instead of the Rose on the other side of the door.