he night was darker than usual, the moon hidden behind some drifting clouds, sometimes powerful enough to send its light, sometimes not. Elegant flambeau shaped like crystal balls had appeared as we spoke at some point during our meeting, casting light bright enough to make us forget night had already settled.

Changing from attire to attire in less than quarter an hour was one tedious challenge that left both Nayal and me utterly breathless; the few minutes that I was to be late as a show for power were lifesavers.

I had changed from the dress Aether had sent to a two-pieced one. The top was sleeveless, showing the markings on my right shoulder, gold in color and covered in glimmering dust, and longer on the back to be able to tuck it under the skirt, the front shorter, showing a bit of my navel. The skirt was smooth velvet dyed rich burgundy, floral patterns of gold and Nightbleed that had been rendered thin to be sewn adorned the lower part.

Getting into the outfit was the easy part. Nayal and mine's magic were at complete work beside her hands, undoing my hair and pulling it in a high ponytail, not a single strand falling over my face, a brochure shaped like a rose pinned to the tail, adding a smear of gold in the blackness of my hair. The maid had to redo my makeup, going for the same black and gold as she added some dark crimson and painted my lips red just to add some life to my features.

Apparently, I was an utter mess.

I wore no shoes past an intricate swirl of thin gold decorated with rubies that went from my toes to just below my knees, a match to the ones on my forearms. A protective layer of magic was beneath the sole of my feet, protecting them. The look was more Fae than any I'd worn before. But late Queen Elena Salvar Armedes was half-Fae and those clothes were nothing but to honor the part of Fae essence that ran in my blood.

Lord Isal and some other Fae lords and ladies did look pleased when I had first arrived. The others, mainly Perdiel and a few old men I couldn't truly care about, on the other hand, weren't much happy seeing the absence of the king.

And so, case after case came to be discussed, two already done and one still playing in front of my eyes. The first one was approved, the second denied, and all along, I kept a thin bridge between Ramos's mind and mine just to know how he analyzed it all. And if he saw something I couldn't.

One of the two White Troopers—the one standing next to the accused man in the circle where there were no longer chairs and seats, the spot fully visible to us—finished reading the man's rights for the third time that day, and all eyes turned to Ramos and me as the second one started citing the accusation and evidences.

"Treason,'' he said, eyes not wavering from the scroll he held, ''and conspiracy with demons. He was a messenger between the two sides and used his boats and limited wealth to serve Lysithea and her armies. Caught trying to escape—''

"I wasn't trying to escape, I—"

"Enough." The Trooper's voice cut the man's words and I looked at the accused person. Threadbare clothes covered him, dirt clinging to his face and hair as tears streamed down his chin, his hands, shaking, made the shackles caging them hiss. He was on his knees, and even with the warning of the guards flanking his sides and armed to the teeth, he still lifted his bloodshot eyes, begging. To me.

The soldier continued reading, his words reaching deaf ears as I held the man's stare. He felt it, my presence in his mind and consciousness as I roamed in his thoughts. He didn't fight and had the good sense to hide the shock from manifesting on his face.

Through gentle waves of magic, I wandered in his memories, searching. There was a tug in my guts, a sort of thread that glinted in the darkness, that led the way.

And when I found what I wanted, I stopped. Images of him drowning in the sea not so far from Taloan before the Troopers caught him filled my vision. Screams—his screams—echoed in my soul as he was forced underwater, black hands surging from the deep to pull him down.

I ventured farther into this memory, looking for the reason it all started, immediately shacking off the remnant of those screams from my own mind. I walked in darkness, memories opening like windows around me, and only stopped when I saw an iron flacon. My heart skipped a beat.

I drew the memory, watching a hooded shadow—the same one Siltheres had seen—drawing a magic that was dark and cold around his fingers. I couldn't discern him, Adeim soot covering him far too well to track his sent. But I felt it, that whisper of cursed malice ringing with each breath the hooded man took, that silky blackness piercing the accused one's head, owning him both in mind and body.

I retreated from his mind, gave him one long look, and turned my attention to the buzzing noblemen in my company—merely a dozen of them. Unlike what happened three hours before, only the invited nobles attended instead of everyone—be it niece and nephew and distant aunts and uncles and more—that possessed a fraction of noble blood in their veins.

A few more minutes before the room quieted and everyone turned at me, waiting to hear my judgment. They had questioned the absence of Father, which Ramos had dealt, saying he had sudden pressing matters to see into. But he didn't know what matters, not yet.

I stared at the man one last time, at how he wobbled as he cried, hearing some attendees demanding execution. I took in one deep breath and said, voice loud and clear and commanding, "The accused is innocent."

Silence. And then, noise erupted.

Perdiel was the first to stand, objecting, this time no malice in his act. Only duty to his kingdom.

"The man has betrayed us, and by law, this is only punishable by death."

"It is,'' I replied, "if the actions are from one's full will. Law of king Gavin and the twelve juries, chapter nine, part three."

"Then the man has been under influence, I take it?'' he asked, eyes, grey and hollow, contemplating.

"Yes, and cursed to die if he ever tried to speak of it. He was not escaping, but being drowned in an attempt to kill him."

"I believe then that you've seen past what our blind eyes can witness."

I nodded, hand gesturing for the man to stand. "But,'' Perdiel interjected, "how do we know that what Your Majesty have seen is true and not another charm casted on his mind?"

I stiffened and the room went quite again until Sorcha rose from her seat. "Eziar above, Lord Perdiel," she breathed, voice a notch higher than the usual smooth and controlled tone.

Her white gown flowed as she turned to him, head high and hands resting behind her back, a commanding and perhaps slightly impatient air seeping from her posture. It was a sight, seeing the Witch of the Shimderian Forest running ever so little on temper, she who always wore complete calm as her second skin.

"Do you dare suspect the spirit of your queen-to-be?"

"I only ask for the benevolence of my country,'' he said, confident and completely aware of the eyes on him.

But the witch had more to say. "You are questioning the Chosen, and thus the Gods, who are not much pleased by your behaviors. I would tread carefully if I were you."

"And how, Lady Sorcha, do you know about the displeasure of the Gods?''

He played confidence well, fooling most of the listeners. But I saw the bit of fear that crept into his soul.

"Do you,'' the witch asked, "know of my virtue, lord?"

"I do. The gift that has been running in your blood since the day you were born. The virtue of having a tongue that speaks nothing but the truth and eyes that can perceive lies as easily as breathing is. The same virtue that flows in the Shimdera family." A glance at her sons, both seated, the edge of a smug smile on their lips.

"Then," she added, "trust me when I say you are toeing a dangerous line questioning her Highness as Aether himself takes it as an offense to his powers. As for my resources, they are from a messenger from the Five. Would you wish to know more, your only response is the princess, as he is nothing less than her familiar."

Colors bleached out of Perdiel's face, partially because of Sorcha's words, and partially because of the wings that flared behind me, warm and bright and glorious. Téors's wings.

With a steady voice, I announced, "Wings of the Phoenix of Life, beast at my command, second to the Dragon of the Gods."

Gasps, loud and clear, reverberated around us, growing harder as my phoenix's head emerged from nothingness, taking full form and screeching so loud it might have rattled the skies above us. Then, his fires dimmed and he was no longer there, leaving aghast faces in his wake. Perdiel Smitheron looked as much as if was facing Death himself.

Ramos smiled, eyes glinting, thoroughly enjoying and approving of what just happened. Not only to teach Perdiel where to stand, but to show them all—noble and poor and guards—just who was sitting before them.

"Now,'' I ordered, "if no one has anything to add, we judge. Who pledge the man's innocence?"

Everyone stood; even Perdiel didn't sit or complain, urging his fellow, another old man and cunning-looking named Lorgin, to do so. He obeyed.

"Good." I turned to the accused one, magic shattering the shackles around his hands and ankles. "You are free and protected by the Armedes family,'' I paused for a second or two, placing my powers on full display as an invisible hand gripped the man from his shirt just above where his heart beat.

The hand squeezed tighter digging into his skin, tearing the fabric in holes. It lifted him of his feet, face paling as it pulled almost invisible threads from his chest, hands, and around his skull.

I raised my own hand and the man rose even higher, and when I fisted it, the threads took the shape of chains and burst to nothing but shards of translucent magic. They vanished before they even reached the floor.

I lowered my hand and the man was on both his feet, breathless and shacking and face ashen. He was still crying, his hands on where the invisible one had lifted him. His legs wobbled, and I smiled as I said, "The curse no longer controls you. Your papers and fully signed report will be in your hands tomorrow, after what you will be free to leave the castle's ground."

''Thank you,'' he breathed, weeping and sobbing. And then, he vanished alongside the two men at his side. His voice still echoing behind him in gratitude.

I stared at the few people of my court: Ramos, the Shimdera family, lord Claurod—lady Daélim nowhere at his side, not now, not during the Gathering—, Renva, and some lower nobles that included Count Isal, Lord Perdiel and Sir Ayaz.

I was about to finally declare today's meetings finished when I heard a voice in my mind. It was rough yet spoke gently to not startle. I'd heard it so many times before, both in mind and in person. Father's voice.

I feigned reading the agenda inked on a golden scroll resting in my lap as I listened to every single letter, careful to not show it. I even, as much as I hated it, kept it secret from Ramos. But he knew it was faked because he was the one who had written the agenda, and knew better than anyone that there was nothing more for today.

Only when my father was done telling me his plan did I open my moth, announcing, "Today has been tedious as you are all aware, yet I fear it is not done yet. I wish, from those you shall find golden scrolls in their rooms, to meet King Aragon in the council room two hours from now. The meeting should not extend to more than an hour and half so the day ends half an hour prior to midnight."

I looked each and every in the eyes, lingering on the Second Crowns and Lord Isal more than the rest, making sure they knew who I meant, scroll or no.

"Does anyone object?''

Silence, again. "Perfect," I breathed, shoulders aching from the continuous straight sitting. "You are free until called by duty. Today was successful, thank you for your cooperation."

I nodded my head and everyone vanished, face after face turning to nothing more than a whisper of mist and dust in the brightly-lit room.

Everyone but Lord Perdiel.

I reclined in my seat, posture still in check even if my muscles ached, and stared at him for long, taking in his dull, grayish skin that complimented so well his stormy eyes. Fae ears peaked from under tightly pulled back white strands, leaving his oval face utterly clean.

"I am listening, Lord Perdiel,'' I said when the silence became too much and his eyes too intense on me, needing him to leave to fulfill what Father requested.

"I have nothing to say, Your Highness. I was quite waiting for your words." Not a lie, but not truth either.

I smiled as I leaned forward, elbows on the edge of an invisible support I'd summoned from air and uttered with a voice so low it could have been a whisper, "There is a part of the magic that comes with the spirit elemental that the bearer cannot control, Your Grace. It allows us to see and hear the words and thoughts forming in your own mind before you even know it."

My smile grew a bit, something in it merely for show. "You might truly be waiting, but you hold questions all at once."

He didn't reply, nothing but deafening silence coming from him. And it was that silence that pushed me to talk, just to get rid of the heaviness.

"I know you hate me." He stiffened. "Even when I believe hate is too strong a word. In one part, I know it is envy. In the other, I can see it is genuine care for the future of Cantelot."

I leaned back.

"But you must know, Lord, that I am more than what you think. This is a wicked game you are going through, and as war is rising, it puts you at great disadvantage, and I simply am not ready to gamble my throne and risk watching everything my ancestors had built crumble to dust."

He tensed so badly I thought his muscles might snap. His thoughts ran wild, so wild he didn't realize how my magic could read him as easily as an open book, by will or not.

"I merely wish the best for our country and no more. I, too, do not desire witnessing the fall of the Armedes dynasty,'' he managed even when his breathing was unstable.

"I know." My voice was mockingly sweet, laced with bits of iciness. But he would not leave this room until I knew where we were standing. "I might not have been trained since the moment I was born, but I have been ever since I came back. And I have fought for this throne. Have and will always do, even if it means dying on that battleground."

"Your Highness—"

"Celestia. For now and until we leave this room, let it be Celestia."

His eyes shot wide and I started seeing deeper in his mind memories and thoughts that changed the entirety of what was happening. He was chained, held back in his mind by powers not his own. He was damned.

"Then, it shall be solely Perdiel for you as well."

I smiled, perhaps the first genuine one I ever gave him. He added, "I know you are powerful, Celestia. Saimen himself has told me hours before we speak that he had taught you in the First Norm and witnessed firsthand how different you were, even with the symbol hidden. But allow me to ask, just how powerful are you?"

"Too much, Perdiel. Too much I, myself, do not know where my magic ends. But never believe I have them at a cheap cost. With every breath, I pay for the power that runs in my veins. But I cannot refuse them, not by will and not by power without causing Ardoria's downfall. There is a reason I was born so strong now that war looms around, don't you think?''

"I always served for my people, always put their priorities before mine. Every lower noble wants more power; perhaps you see it better than anyone. And those demons used it against me, cursed me when I refused allegiance with Lysithea. And they made sure that this greed for positions becomes my end. So forgive me if I ever out-stepped my limits; it happens when that darkness becomes unstoppable."

"I know this." Cursed—Gods above, cursed and tied to his own mind. Those chains, they were greed and powerlessness. His breathing became heavy as he asked, "How? Only I can tell you of this."

"You said it yourself, I can see more than normal eyes."

His eyes locked with mine. "I apologize, for all that I had said and did. I did not mean to disrespect you."

"Worry not." I felt the gold on my right forearm before trailing my fingers on my skin, tracing Liam's markings. "You have mentioned Saimen, are you good friends?"

"We are, at some point. His daughter is mine in law."

"I see. Wife of your eldest?"

A question I already knew the answer from the very beginning. But those words, this talk, it warmed the ice coating our presence. I--we--needed it, if only to clear our stands.

"Yes," he breathed again, "my only remaining son, my heir who, if should fall, will be followed by my youngest daughter, the only remaining one alive, actually."

"What happened?" I asked, digging a story I already heard about in bits and bits.

"Seven years ago, on the partial war on Arelesia, we were attacked as we had gone to fight along all the other families." He paused and I could almost hear his heartbeat quickening.

"It was then that they cursed me, in that very day. And I lost everything I had. My family was killed."

He looked at me and there was sorrow and grief in them.

"I had twenty-three sons and daughters. Only two came back alive. Even my wife died, an arrow in the chest."

"I am sorry, Perdiel. May the Gods bless them in their heavens." I meant it. Meant every bit and letter. And I wondered, as I beheld in this sight of him broken and alone, if this was how fate would treat my father. I then drawled, if only to ease the tension caused by the thought, "And what about Lorgin? I don’t particularly believe he is also cursed."

"He isn't. But everything he holds now is because of me, having saved him and his bloodline several times. He repays this debt by standing with me through this."

"Even when he is putting it all at stake."

"Yes. All lower nobles dream of power, and he believes that if one day I truly obtain a higher position, he will be rewarded."

I smirked, something in it feral just for show, and added, "He is old in this game and I am curious to see just how much he can gamble without losing."

One heartbeat of silence. Then another. On the third, I merely nodded and Perdiel stood, head dipped.

"I believe we part on good terms," I said, watching the edges of his black tunic starting to vanish. He only smiled, a part of it more at ease than ever and disappeared only after I gave him one final nod.