Hey APK Family!

Merry Christmas to all of you, here is your Christmas present from me to you, to say thankyou for all of the times you waited so paitiently for my uploads this year (and all the years previous). Its up a little later than I expected to be posting it apologies, my Christmas Day ended up being a little buisier than I had predicted! I hope you guys enjoy the Chapter, I know you're probably getting a bit imaptient for Obsidian, but don't worry - he will be in the next Chapter for sure. I am not sure yet, whether or not the Chapter after this will be the last one, I think I will know when I write it :) I will let you guys know though, in the Authors note at the top.

Wishing you and all your families and friends, a wonderful Christmas.
Much Love,

Daisy xx

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Chapter 51 | Monarch

*

'Breathe, darling,
you have done it before,
and you can do it
a g a i n.'

-Unknown

*

CIRCE

Circe's final two days passed slowly and without consequence.

After he had brought her back to her room, Ambrose's parting words, meant to set her at ease – she was sure – only served to fuel her anxiety as she wondered what was occurring outside of her little bubble.

You do not need to worry, he had told her, I will not allow you to suffer the same fate as I.

Unfortunately, this only caused her to imagine that what was in store for her was indeed far worse than merely speaking before the masses.

When she had fallen asleep that night, it had been to dreams of Gisir Ilyrana, staring down at her as she had stood in the place of Ambrose, the Great Dragon's powerful and thunderous voice sweeping through her mind as he condemned her to serve under the throne forever.

She had not heard from Ambrose since that night, and it remained that way until the evening of her second day, when a knock at her door had her sitting up from where she was curled on an armchair, staring blankly at a wall, lost in thought.

"It's open," she called, her voice a little hoarse from misuse. She raised a hand to her throat, coughing to clear it.

The door opened, revealing the Water Sprite to her, his blue hair pulled into a braid over his left shoulder, his eyes a little listless. Although she could feel the fatigue radiating off of him from across the room, upon locating Circe in her chair, Ambrose offered her a small smile which she took to be a good thing.

"Ambrose," she made to get out of her chair, but he dismissed her advance, choosing instead to sink down into the chair opposite.

"What's been going on?" She asked worriedly, "I haven't heard from anyone."

He had closed his eyes and now he waved away her concerns with one hand. "You do not need to worry; it is under control."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that unfortunately, while you still need to follow through with your Public address, there will be no other consequences accompanying your abdication."

"You spoke with him?" Circe aske sharply.

"Yes."

"You should not have done that for me. I should have gone with you."

"There is no point in concerning yourself with it now." Ambrose looked as though he had more to say, but when he didn't continue, Circe spoke instead.

"You know, there is one thing that has been bothering me. Did my Mother know about this? Of the other consequence? Does she know about you?"

"No," Ambrose shook his head. "My origin is a secret known only by myself and one other. Perhaps the only reason you were able to discover the truth is because you have not been fed the cover story about the first Ruler, like everyone else has.

"To others, I am merely a Water Sprite, who has lived a long time. My age has always been ambiguous. I am forgotten as time passes, but at the same time, I am always remembered as being present. Such is the curse of immortality in a magical world." He smiled a little ruefully, "If I served a human throne, things might be a little different. Their lives are so short."

Circe nodded slowly, "I understand. But then, what is the 'cover story' that everyone else knows?"

For a moment, Ambrose remained reticent, and then he gave a quiet sigh. "I suppose I should have known you would have further questions."

Circe shrugged a little apologetically, "I'm sorry." She offered.

Ambrose sank further back into his chair, "It is fine," he said, "you should be informed, I suppose." He looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling, and the sea scape that was painted there. "I guess it is easier to tell you the version that everyone believes, and then work to unravel the mistruths that are woven into it. Most of it is true after all," he smiled ruefully, "there are only a few white lies in the mix."

Circe nodded in understanding, bringing her knees up to her chest so that she could curl more comfortably into her chair. This was the distraction she needed. She listened eagerly.

"As you would have been told," Ambrose began, "the Ruler of the Water Kingdom has always been a female. According to the known history of the Water Kingdom, the first Ruler was female, and every child she and her descendants had borne afterwards was female also, a blessing, in the eyes of the people, and one that was substantial enough to create a legend.

"Sirens are, after all, the Queens of the ocean, Circe. And the world was once not as peaceful as it is now. The Siren, with her supreme skills of manipulation, deception, and fighting prowess, were once greatly feared amongst the magical races.

"When the Kingdoms were more divided than they are now, not even Elf, nor Air Sprite was exempt from a Siren's charm, should she so choose to use it. That the Queens of the Water Kingdom, consistently continued to produce female heirs, was seen as a divine blessing, a symbol of a Siren's power."

"But not all the Ruler's were Sirens," Circe pointed out, remembering the portraits etched into he stained glass, "some of them were Water Sprites."

Ambrose nodded, "Yes indeed, of which I was the first. And while it is common knowledge now, that the Royal lineage is mixed in with Royalty from the Water Sprite race, it is less well-known of the reason such a union came about. In fact, most people believe the fairy-tale that a Water Sprite fell in love with a Siren at first sight, and they dedicated themselves to each other eternally. The real story is a little less lovely."

"Aren't Water Sprite's born with a soul mate already pre-destined?" Circe asked in confusion, "I thought you-"

"They are," Ambrose said quietly, his eyes suddenly fixed on something far away, something Circe could not see, "they are created that way because of me."

Circe opened her mouth but was unsure of how to word her next question. There was a delicacy to the situation, and she decided simply to let him speak.

"For a Siren, a Water Sprite is the greatest conquest. To catch the affections of one who is already pre-destined to another – surely there is no greater triumph for a creature whose very existence is beauty in itself.

"However, the first union backfired on the Siren Queen at the time, despite my warning her against making such a choice. She gave birth to a daughter, and then, while she grew old, the Water Sprite did not. And eventually, haunted by her age and loss of beauty, while her lover remained youthful, she chose to end her own life."

Circe's eyes were wide, "And the Water Sprite?"

Ambrose smiled lightly, but his eyes were tight, "He remained to guide his daughter in her Rule for a time, and when she died and passed on, he disappeared back into the ocean, as all Water Sprites do when their time as come. A Water Sprite lifetime is roughly double that of a Siren's.

Circe felt a conflict of emotions, "what about the female Water Sprite? The one he would have been meant to be with?"

"Circe," Ambrose said gently, "we walk this Earth to find our soulmates. We were never meant to be born beside them. While it is true, that Water Sprites are created in pairs, and although these pairs complement each other to the point of perfection, they are not necessarily what you would term as 'soul-mates'. They are simply compatible opposites.

"But when a person is fed an idea from birth, few would choose to go against the grain. And why would someone choose to see out another, when they seem to have the perfect match already at their side?"

"So, the Water Sprite Monarchs in the stained glass ..." Circe asked falteringly.

"They are not full-blooded," Ambrose answered, "they merely retain some of the similar traits. The vibrant blue hair, the ability to manipulate the ocean into doing their bidding. The Water Sprite and Siren unions did not happen often throughout the Royal History, but it occurred often enough. Your Grandparents in fact, were the last Siren and Water Sprite pairing. And arguably the most powerful Monarchs to date. It is thanks to them I suspect that your affinity for water control is so defined, despite your Father's heritage."

"I understand," Circe said quietly, but there was a question in her mind that she could no longer hold back, "you said before about Water Sprites being 'created' in pairs," she said, "but what do you mean by 'created'?"

In fact, she had always wondered this. It seemed apparent, from the conversations she had had, that Water Sprites were not born, but 'created'. She remembered someone providing her with a vague explanation at some point, but she could not remember who.

"To answer you question, I must first tell you the origin of my birth," Ambrose gave a light smile, "in-fact, it is a story that may seem slightly familiar to you, Circe."

"What do you mean?" She asked in confusion.

Ambrose looked away from her, staring out the window at the far end of the room. "Like your cousin Prince Zalas, I was not born, I was created," azure eyes snapped back to focus on her face, "by a dragon."

For a moment Circe was speechless as the information sunk in. "Gisir Ilyrana?" She asked tentatively.

Ambrose held her gaze for a moment longer, before nodding slowly. "Yes. He is my creator. But I was not formed the way Prince Zalas was. I was sculpted from the very ocean in which my Father resides," Ambrose gave a sad smile, that to Circe seemed full of heart break, "he desired, I believe, to make a humanoid image of himself, a creature that would be able to blend in and live amongst the other races, as he himself could not. I was born, destined to sit upon the throne of the Kingdom he created for me to rule, and remain they're for eternity."

Circe hugged her legs closer to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she surveyed the person before her, entranced by the history he was retelling. It seemed to ridiculously impossible, yet it was truth. She suddenly felt as though all her small worries were insignificant, compared the centuries that Ambrose had navigated alone.

"So, then the other Water Sprites ..." Circe couldn't help but ask, for she was burning with curiosity.

"Are created by my Father," Ambrose confirmed, "yes. But it is more that they come into being, simply because of his presence. His excessive amounts of energy pour into the landscape that surrounds him, providing vibrancy and life. The ocean is already a living, conscious being that sustains and holds the lives of many within her watery grasp. My Father's magic simply created a physical manifestation of this consciousness. Water Sprites are formed in pairs, just as the ocean ebbs and flows with the tide. Where there is a push, there must always be a pull. It is the law of nature."

"You didn't come with a pair?" Circe asked quietly.

Ambrose shook his head. "Unlike the others, my Father created me on purpose. He did not intend for me to have a partner," his eyes tightened, "I am immortal. I should have been able to rule forever."

"He should have known that plan was impossible," Circe said softly, "the people would not accept one, eternal monarch."

"I agree," Ambrose, to Circe's surprise, let out a quiet chuckle, "it is where Dragons show their naivety I suppose. For all their wisdom, knowledge, and magic, they are rather clueless when it comes to understand the reasonings of creatures that are not their own kin. I do not know for how long Gisir Ilyrana has reigned upon the Earth – but to him, I suspect that Ruling a Kingdom for an eternity was a feat easily accomplishable in his eyes."

Circe breathed out a long, heavy sigh. Her mind was full of so much information – this past week, so much had been revealed to her, so many threads were tied together, forming connections that she never might have realised existed. But she wanted to know all of it, and she still had one more question.

"Your reason for abdicating ..." She asked cautiously, "can you tell me why?"

Ambrose shifted in his seat. His eyes remained on her face. "I am forbidden from speaking about the reasoning behind my abdication, as well as my connection to the current Monarchy," Circe thought he looked sad, "and even if I could, what is past is past. You only need to know that I would not change anything."

Circe nodded, her other questions drying up in her throat. There was something in his eyes just then, that told her this was an uncrossable line. And although she was curious, she was not that curious.

"When I spoke to my Father before our meeting now, he expressed that he desires for me to follow and advise you, after your abdication," Ambrose's azure eyes flashed as he tactfully changed the subject "if you allow it of course."

Circe leant forward suddenly, her attention easily persuaded "Does that mean he has released you from your duty to the throne?" She asked in excitement.

Ambrose shook his head. "No, I must return to serve when a new Ruler is born."

Circe leant back in disappointment, "I see ..." she mused, "but you will have some freedom for a while, correct?"

"Correct."

"Then I am fine with having your company," Circe agreed lightly, "if you are fine with accompanying my brother on his ship. I feel that your guidance would be of great value to him." She didn't mean to make negotiations with Ambrose, especially not after what he had done for her, but she did not think she could agree so readily to have him accompanying her closely as an advisor. That sort of lifestyle was exactly what she was attempting to escape from.

Fortunately, Ambrose seemed to understand her thoughts, and he agreed, before rising from his seat. Her eyes followed him as he stood.

"Is your thirst for knowledge momentarily satiated?" he asked gently.

She nodded, "Yes, and thank-you," she said sincerely, "for being honest with me."

Ambrose gave a slight bow towards her, "Think nothing of it."

"You are leaving?" She asked, a little wistfully. Although the conversation had been intense, the company had been a pleasant distraction. Now there would be nothing to do to keep her from her own thoughts.

"There is much that needs to be prepared for tomorrow to go smoothly. How are you feeling?"

Circe grimaced, "Nervous."

"Naturally," he said quietly, "I am sorry that I could not do more."

She shot him a small smile, "No, you have already done far more than I could have asked for. I told you, when you came to get me, that I was not going to shy away from this. Nothing has changed in that regard."

"Do you have your speech prepared?" He checked.

She sighed, nodding slowly, "I know what I am going to say."

"Then I will come for you, in the morning. The public address will be at noon." His hand rested on the doorknob and he hovered, half in and half out of the room, "Unless you wish for your Mother to come?"

Circe shook her head vehemently, "No, I want it to be you."

"And so, it shall be, if that is your wish," he said solemnly, "try and get some sleep." The door closed behind him with a gentle click and Circe exhaled heavily.

She didn't think she was going to be able to sleep at all.

*

She didn't think she would, yet somehow, in the early hours of the morning, sleep eventually did find her and when she woke, it was to see her clothes prepared and laid out on the dresser, steam curling into the room from the hot water that had been drawn in the bathroom beyond.

She yawned widely. Her sleep had not been restful – she had been plagued by strange dreams, the haunting eyes of Gisir Ilyrana following her into her dreamscape, never in the forefront, but always present, as though watching from above.

At some point too, she had dreamed of Obsidian. He had been standing a fair distance away from her, his golden eyes turned in her direction, but no matter how many times she had called his name, he had not responded. And when she had tried to go to him, she found that the floor beneath her feet had turned to stone and there were iron bars between them. She had tried to reach through them to grab him, but it was as though she was made of air and although he was looking in her direction, she realised that he couldn't really see her.

Thinking back over it now made her skin rise into goosebumps and she shivered involuntarily, rubbing her hands fiercely up and down her arms as she tried to dispel the seeds of doubt in her mind.

It didn't help of course, that Anthemin had yet to contact her again. She was tormented by the small amount they had spoken at the entrance to the Water Kingdom, and although Obsidian message had given her courage at the time, the reality of his location and the ominous way Anthemin had spoken about Zalas, hardly put her at ease.
And now she could hardly feel Anthemin at all – or rather, it was almost as though there as a locked door between them, and she had not been given the key.

Rising from the bed, Circe tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach that had somehow overnight transformed into twisting snakes, their writhing bodies threatening to knot up her insides and squeeze the air from her lungs.

She had to believe that they would be fine.

She had to, or she feared that she would fall apart.

She bathed slowly, the hot water relaxing her nerves somewhat, although they returned in full force as she as she stepped out of the tub.

She dried and dressed herself quietly, moving to the vanity to tame her hair and put a little makeup on her face. The white powder hid the bags under her eyes but made her look devoid of all colour. She stared at her ashen appearance in the mirror and horribly, Tobias's face appeared in her mind, his colourless skin so dreadfully pale against the wet, black rock.

She came to in the next moment, and shaking herself from her morbid thoughts, and she hastily added a little rouge, pinching her cheeks until a rosy flush blossomed across her skin. Her hands trembled slightly, and she forced herself to swallow past the lump that had lodged itself in her throat. It was almost painful.

"Get yourself together Circe," she mumbled, adding khol to her eyes and lashes. It had been a long time since she had worn makeup, so long in fact, that when she finally chanced another quick glance in the mirror, she barely recognised herself.

It was a good thing, she supposed. If she could pretend that she was someone else, then what she was about to do became a little easier to stomach.

After she had gotten herself as ready as possible, she found a flaw in her organisation. She was still too early, and there was now nothing she could do to pass the time. She settled for pacing up and down her room for the entirety morning instead, her breakfast cold and forgotten by the window seat. The thought of food made her want to vomit.

She could not hear them, but she knew that people must already be gathering outside of the Castle. Her eyes glanced towards the clock again. It was exactly an hour before noon.

I wonder what Obsidian is doing right now. The thought entered her mind without warning, and she was suddenly caught off-guard by the overwhelming sense of loneliness that welled up inside her. God, she missed him. She missed him so much. For one wild moment she entertained the thought of escaping, of just running without looking back. Leaving this all behind and offering no explanations. He would come for her, she knew. He would find her eventually. And he was all that mattered.

Just as she was thinking it, a knock echoed from out in the hall and Circe's head jerked up to stare at the door, the sound breaking her from her moment of panic.

No, she couldn't back out now. She had made a commitment. The knock came again, and Circe rushed to the door, yanking it open forcefully and staring at the person in the hallway beyond. She had half expected it to be someone else, but instead it was Ambrose, his blue hair tied in a neat, low ponytail, his clothes elegant and refined.

Ambrose took in her flushed appearance, his face unchanging. "I have come," he said softly, "are you ready?"

Circe laughed a little wildly, "I don't think I could ever be ready," she said bitterly, "but yes, I am as ready as I can be."

She took the hand that he extended out towards her, allowing him to tuck her onto his arm as he closed the door gently behind them. The gesture was unexpected from Ambrose, yet oddly comforting at the same time and she managed to find her voice somewhere, from where it had been lodged in her stomach.

"So, I guess when I joked that you were old enough to be my Grandfather, I was closer to the truth than I thought right?" She cracked weakly as they made their way down the hall.

Ambrose looked at her with mild astonishment, "That was a joke?"

She looked at him a little despairingly and gave a strained chuckle, "Never mind."

She clutched his arm a little tighter. They were heading downstairs now, but only to the second floor and Circe recognised the grand double staircase that led downwards to the main entrance.

They bypassed this though, Ambrose leading her up the stairs on the other-side, and abruptly the décor changed, the carpet below Circe's feet becoming a plush velvet blue that reminded her of dark ocean water.

The hallways were becoming busier, but only in the sense that Circe could suddenly tell there was life in the Palace – the distinct opening and shutting of doors as maids completed their chores, the light clanging of metal brushing against metal as guards patrolled the hallways, the quiet murmur of voices in rooms beyond, and someone singing from faraway, their voice high and hauntingly beautiful as it drifted through the halls.

Up another staircase, this one spiralling around and around, and then they reached the highest floor, stepping out into a room that was open on one side, the ornate railing allowing Circe to look down at the main entrance hall to the Palace. She had stood up here only once before, when the joined pendants had been presented to the Public and now that she stood here again, she could hear the hum of a large crowd, buzzing in her ears.

At the far end of the room there was a deep velvet green curtain and beyond that, the door that led to a sprawling balcony upon which she would stand to give her address. She knew that she would be able to see everything from up there, and that every single face in the expansive crowd would be turned towards her.

The only thing she was thankful for, was that she would be standing too high up to make out their expressions when she let them down. Not far enough away that their dissent would be unable to reach her ears, however.

Her nerves had increased, almost exponentially now, especially when she laid eyes upon the woman standing in front of the curtain.

Evangeline turned towards them as they entered, her expression calm and collected, but Circe saw the turbulence in her eyes that raged like a wild storm, and her Mother's words, when she finally spoke, were delivered with a dusting of frost.

"You haven't changed your mind?"

Circe's fingers clenched tight around Ambrose's arm once and then she let go, stepping forward to stand on her own. She shook her head.

"I have not."

Evangeline's lips pursed into a thin line of displeasure. "I see," she said curtly, "then please come this way. The council is waiting."

Circe saw Ambrose stiffen out of the corner of her eye, but she did not look towards him even when he spoke, his voice heavy with disapproval, "I thought I advised you that the council could be informed privately, your Highness. The Princess is not yet fully integrated into our society, asking her to give a Public address is already-

Evangeline cut across his words with a cool stare, "Yes, you did advise me Ambrose. However, I seem to recall that I am only required to listen to your advice." Her implication could not have been clearer.

Sensing that Ambrose was about to speak again, Circe half turned towards him, although her eyes never left her Mother. "It's fine," she told him quietly, "they all must know eventually, better it come from my own mouth than to be passed down by others."

After a moment, Ambrose gave a curt nod, but Circe could tell he wasn't happy.

Ocean eyes flashing, Evangeline turned and stepped towards a set of doors that Circe had not previously noticed. The golden doors were thick and solid, the lavish carvings on the outside depicting a pair of Sirens, swimming towards each other with their hands outstretched towards the door handles in the middle.

The guards stationed at either side opened the doors for Evangeline, and the Queen swept through with barely a glance behind her. It was obvious that Circe was meant to follow her in.

With trepidation, Circe stepped into the room. She had had a feeling, ever since her Mother had mentioned the council, that she knew what was awaiting her in the room beyond.

Sure enough, it was as though she had stepped into the scene from the stained-glass window in the hall, and although she tried to keep her eyes on her Mother, as Evangeline walked to stand in front of the throne at the far end of the room, the people standing to either side were almost impossible to ignore.

The throne room was an exact replica of the one downstairs, and now that Circe thought about it, it seemed as though it was in almost the same location as well. One below, one above.

She wondered which one Ambrose had stood in upon his abdication, and fervently hoped that it was the one she was standing in now. For some reason, the thought gave her courage. She recalled the Water Sprite's proud back, as he had bowed towards the throne in the stained-glass window and her own spine straightened unconsciously.

Ambrose stepped past her then, his fingers brushing lightly against hers as he walked to his place on the Queen's left.

Circe's eyes followed him forwards, and it was only when he turned around to meet her gaze, giving her a light nod, did she find the courage to look properly around the rest of the room.

The first thing she noticed, was that she recognised three of the faces gathered in the room. The first was the woman on the Queens right side, looking starkly different to the last time Circe had seen her.

Aisling.

The Siren met Circe's gaze and nodded once, her arms folding elegantly across her chest. Her expression was unreadable.

Titan was the next person Circe recognised, and a sickening sense of guilt swooped through her stomach at the disappointment in his eyes. She hadn't met the Mayor of the Underwater City for very long, but they had gotten along well and after she had healed his daughter, he was one of those who had pledged to follow her loyally when she was eventually seated on the throne. And now she was letting him down.

The third person was the one Circe had least been expecting to see, and the kindness in his gaze nearly broke her.

Hobbson stood about halfway down the hall, looking far more presentable than she had ever seen him in Military uniform of blue and gold, his chest adorned with medals. His hair had been combed, his beard trimmed neatly, yet nothing had changed in the way he looked at her, with gentle indulgence and compassionate understanding.

Upon meeting his gaze, she felt a lump rise in her throat and when he gave her a gentle nod, she had to look away, the corners of her eyes feeling unbearably hot.

She swept her eyes across the rest of the council who had gathered but did not find any more familiar faces. There could not have been more than fifteen people gathered in total, and Circe counted six Water Sprites, not including Ambrose, that were present. There were two females and four males, and all of them, save for one, were looking towards Evangeline, waiting for her to speak.

The one who was not, was staring down at Circe with obvious disapproval, his brows furrowed tightly, wild blue hair swirling about his face as though pulled by a raging ocean current. When he met her gaze, his striking turquoise eyes seemed to render her immobile, so heavy was the oppression in his glare.

"Cephas," Evangeline spoke quietly, the single name nevertheless carrying through the silent room. At the Queen's command, the fierce Water Sprite looked away from Circe begrudgingly, and did not look in her direction again.

She swallowed and tried to dispel the tightness in her chest.

"Council, I welcome you all formally," Evangeline began for a moment, "I have gathered you here today for one reason alone. It with a heavy heart that I announce to you, my daughter's intention to abdicate the throne."

Immediately there was a ripple of discord amongst those present. The eyes that were not fixed on her before, suddenly turned in her direction. She could feel their judgement like a weight on her spine, compelling her to bend, willing her to break.

She forced herself to meet their stares and pictured the image of Ambrose in her mind as he stood before Gisir Ilyrana and accepted his punishment. She would not change her mind to please people who knew nothing about her. She would not have her will, taken from her. She would not accept a path that had been chosen by someone else.

Circe gathered her courage and was just about to speak when the doors behind her flew open, a gust of cold air blowing in with the last person that Circe had ever expected to see.

Zephyr stood alone in the doorway, his white robes billowing as the wind that had carried him in continued to dance around him impishly. The breeze blew past him once more, and Zephyr shot out a hand as though to catch it, and he must have done, for when he released his grasp, the wind had died down completely, and the throne room had become silent once more.

Circe's heart was in her throat as she looked towards her Father, a million questions flying through her mind. But Zephyr was not looking at her, he was looking past her to the one who had been facing him when he had first stepped into the room.

Realising this only now for herself, Circe's head turned back to her Mother. Evangeline was still standing in front of the throne, her expression blank, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the man in the doorway. It seemed to Circe, as though she was unsure whether or not he was real.

And then Zephyr spoke, and Circe thought that she saw a corner of her Mother's expressionless mask crumble.

"Eve, there are other ways around this," His voice was quiet, but firm. The sincerity in his gaze as he looked upon the Queen was enough to make Circe feel as though she was intruding on a private audience. "Let us speak first," Zephyr was continuing, "and once you have heard my suggestion, then you can make your decision."

The silence in the room was suffocating.

And then Evangeline spoke. "Everyone out." Her voice was stone cold, allowing no room for discussion.

There was a moment of pause and then the people gathered turned from the throne without question and began to exit the room.

The Water Sprite her Mother had called Cephas was the first to leave, his disgust at the turn of events clear on his face.
"A waste of my time," Circe heard him mutter as he swept from the room, a female Water Sprite holding delicately onto his arm.
The female was a direct contrast to the antagonised male beside her, with pale blue hair that fell like a river to the floor beneath her dainty feet. She only glanced once at Circe before the pair left the room, and her gaze was gentle. She offered Circe a small smile, and then they were gone.

Hobbson reached her next, before Ambrose could, and the older man caught her elbow, dragging her with him without discretion. "Come on," he muttered, "she means you too."

Circe didn't dare to argue, and she let Hobbson lead her from the room, attempting to catch her Father's gaze as she passed him. When he did not look in her direction, she felt a hot flash of shame. She had not told him of her plans after all. Was he disappointed in her as well?

Just as she was walking past him, she saw his lips move soundlessly and as she was steered from the room, the slightest of breezes fanned across her face, whispering through her ears and bringing a voice with it.

"You do not need to fear. Wait for me, I will speak with you soon."

The voice was her Father's, and it was exceedingly gentle.

Circe turned to look back, but the doors to the room were already closing and Circe could only make out a sliver of the room beyond.
In the brief moment before they closed completely, Circe saw her Mother fall to her knees, her head buried in her hands, shoulders shaking as she wept. Zephyr was crouched in front of her, his expression pained as he reached out hesitatingly.

The golden doors closed, but the scene was branded across her soul. She was abruptly reminded of the moment she realised that the person she loved most in the world, was still alive.
With her voice drying up in her throat, she turned wordlessly away from the door.

She felt numb. There was a buzzing in her mind, and it wasn't until she felt a firm tug at her hand that she looked up and realised Hobbson was calling her name.

She watched, a little blankly, as his lips formed words that she couldn't seem to hear. She opened her mouth, to tell him she couldn't hear him, but her tongue felt thick and clumsy.

Ambrose suddenly appeared in front of her, his azure eyes calm and tranquil, and he laid his hands on her shoulders, grounding her.

"Breathe," he commanded.

His voice was like a spell and Circe inhaled raggedly, not realising until now that she had been holding her breath, the ringing in her ears a protest due to lack of oxygen. Her heart was thundering wildly in her chest and suddenly the voices from the gathered public outside seemed louder than when she had first entered the throne room, clamouring and disturbing, reminding her that this was far from over.

Hobbson still had a hold of her hand and seeing her come to, he gave her fingers a fierce squeeze. "You did good, Princess," he commended, "that lot ain't easy to face. Cephas still gives me the heebie-jeebies every time I see him."

Circe let out a choked laugh that was slightly hysterical and attempted to get a grip on her emotions. "I didn't even say anything," she uttered despairingly, "what's going to happen now?"

Hobbson frowned and looked at Ambrose. The Water Sprite shook his head, his eyes lifting to look over Circe's head to the closed doors.

"I am unsure."

Looking around, Circe realised that the people gathered in the throne room had all dispersed, quietly and without fuss.

"They will have returned to their individual quarters within the Palace," Ambrose said quietly, reading her thoughts as usual. "I will convey the Queens orders to them at a later time."

Circe nodded, and shook her hands, trying to dispel some of her jitters. But try as she might, she could not calm the questions that were flying through her mind ever since her Father's appearance.

Why had he come? Had Queen Airocei been privy to Circe's decision and had prewarned her brother? But that didn't seem right. Although Circe knew the two Queens shared a close relationship, they were still Monarchs first and foremost. Information regarding internal unrest would surely not be shared so lightly.

So then was its mere coincidence? Circe had not spoken to Zephyr about her Mother, so she did not know where her Father's intentions towards Evangeline lay. But if the mere glimpse she had seen was anything to go by, coupled with Zephyr's gentle address of her Mother, then it could be assumed that his feelings had not changed.

And then their was Anthemin's message. The dragon's words had suggested that Obsidian, Zalas, and himself were bound for the Air Kingdom. Too late, Circe realised that she should have shared this information - if not with her Mother, then with Ambrose at least. But with everything that had happened, it had slipped her mind.

Still, the timing of her Fathers appearance was too perfect to be sheer coincidence. A sinister curl of disquiet formed in her mind and she banished it vehemently. Everything was fine, she was sure. There was just information that she was missing.

Important information.

She looked towards the doors again. And then towards Hobbson. The man seemed to have reached similar conclusions to her own and his expression was tense as he shook his head.

"Don't ask me," he said, "I know roughly about the same as you do."

That was right, Hobbson had left the ship just before Zephyr had departed for the Air Kingdom. With Zalas having had accompanied Obsidian, the Air Kingdom would be the first to know the outcome of the battle against Zeus Gold. Which did indeed mean that their best source of information was still shut inside that room.

Mercifully, they did not have to wait long.

A short while later, the doors opened once more, and Zephyr stepped through. Evangeline was not with him.

Zephyr appeared calm and collected as he strode towards where Circe stood, swiftly gathering her up in a strong embrace.

"You did well, Daughter," he commended, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Circe sunk her fingers into the floating material of his white robes and breathed in shakily, forcing back the hotness that was welling at the corners of her eyes, threatening tears.

After a moment, Zephyr shifted her slightly, moving her back so that he could see her face. His own expression was stern, but kind as he peered down at her. "I have spoken to your Mother," he said firmly, "she has agreed to postpone the matter of your abdication for now. However, we will announce to the Public in time, that you do not intend to assume the throne."

Circe shook her head, "No," she stumbled to get her words out, her heart beating irrationally fast, "no, I can't pretend for them anymore. I can't. I feel awful, I-"

"Circe," Zephyr halted her words, gathering both of her hands in his own, "no-one is asking you to be anything other than what you are. I have long disagreed with the strict formalities Royals are required to follow, but unfortunately, it is simply the way things are. However, there are still ways around such issues. You do not belong solely to the Water Kingdom Circe, you are my daughter, as much as you are Evangeline's. As such, you cannot be expected to sit upon one throne. This is the argument I have presented to your Mother."

"But I still think-" Circe started.

"I understand your desire to be rid of all of these restrictions Circe," Zephyr squeezed her hands tightly, "but you must understand, once you turn your back on the monarchy, you lose all of your privileges as a royal. You and I, can never be as close as we are currently allowed to be, due to our shared status. I implore you to reconsider this, to take the time to think of all the ways in which your Royalty lineage can benefit you, instead of hindering you, and how you can use it to be of assistance to others, to be an advocate for change."

Circe stared into her Father's clear eyes waveringly. Her resolve, which had been so strong before, was beginning to crumble. But she knew that it was only so easy, so long as her Father stood before her, shielding her from the issues she and no desire to face. And she had told herself that she would stand alone.

"There is nothing wrong with accepting help, when it is offered, Princess," Hobbson said quietly from behind her, "you do not need to undertake such things alone."

Circe looked at her mentor, distraught and at a loss.

As though understanding her conflict, Hobbson gave a half smile, but his eyes remained solemn. "Sometimes, it is more difficult to accept an alternative route may be better, after already committing to walk down another path. No-one will fault you for listening to reason."

Circe swallowed past the lump in her throat. It was painful and her eyes watered. "I understand," she choked out, and as soon as she said the words, she felt as though a huge weight had lifted from her shoulders.

"I understand," her voice broke a little and a single tear slid from the corner of her eye, trailing wetly down her cheek and dripping from her jaw. She looked towards her Father, who was waiting for her answer with an expression that caused her heart to ache with gratitude. "I want to reconsider," she told him falteringly, "please help me."

Zephyr's smile was relieved as he wordlessly gathered her in a crushing hug. Her tears of relief began to fall in earnest, soaking into the white cloth of his shoulder, and only then did he speak.
"Of course," He vowed, "As I told you before, my only wish is to see you live freely, as you so choose. I will always be on your side Circe. You do not need to be afraid."