The container holding the tiny princess was in constant motion. She used the light seeping in from the air holes overhead to orient herself. Before long, she discovered a push-light, a modern-world marvel, secured to the base of the box. She crouched and scurried over to it, careful not to lose her balance on the shifting surface and used the whole weight of her body to press it "on."

From there, she had more leeway to explore. Her box was equipped with bedding and enough pillows for ten fairies, crisp new books, her sewing kit, and a spread of fruits, beverages, candy, and baked goods kept upright in a clear-walled container, another fairy rarity that she recognized as "plastic."

A fruit pie had fingerprint indentations that looked like little hearts and it had six slits in the center. It may as well have had Vela's signature on it.

Whatever Chris was up to, he had plenty of accomplices.

The last time Cassie was captured against her will, she nearly met her doom. By now, she had thoroughly calmed down and was only slightly miffed that Chris didn't just ask her to get in the box. She would have had only minor objections and maybe a few questions, minus the panic attack.

After taking a few pieces of colorful hard candy, she made herself comfortable on the "bed." While doing so, she set a hand down on an envelope with her name on it. She broke the blue seal of wax and pulled out a short message:

Cass,

I hope by the time you're reading this you're not panicking anymore. There's no need.

It's going to be a long bumpy ride. So make yourself at home and try not to be too mad at me. I have good intentions. I promise.

I love you. Sorry about the box. I thought it was a better choice than a bag or my pocket.

Chris

With a deep sigh, Cassie released the last of her frustration. It was impossible to be angry with him for very long.

A smile launched her new mood, one she could not contain.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Chris breathed in the air of an ocean paradise. He couldn't have been more pleased with how the day turned out. Although the heat was intense, the steady breeze was balmy but refreshing, and there was barely a cloud in the sky.

A tiny flying fairy in a mango-pink dress came into view—Simona with the signal he was waiting for. Everything was situated, everyone was in place. It was time to set down the box and open it.

Cassie did not hesitate to climb into Chris's curled, human-sized fingers. He lifted her to eye level. She was petite compared to most of the fem-fairies he knew. Even so, it always amazed him how tiny she really was when he held her in the palm of his hand.

After she leaned over to kiss the tip of his nose, Chris set her down on a rock that was higher than the place where he stood. She was at the crest of grassy hill. It had an unobstructed view of the lushly green, mountainous landscape, both left and right, and the Pacific Ocean straight ahead. It inhaled and exhaled its clear-blue water as if it were an earth-sized mythological creature with lungs and a heartbeat.

Chris disappeared into the nearby bushes. He Modified and emerged small and dressed for a momentous occasion—his best white button-up tunic and off-white trousers rolled to the shin. Scaling the rock to join Cassie, he came in from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, catching her by surprise. "How are you holding up?" He crouched a bit to set his chin on her shoulder.

"Better now. How did you find this spot? Its beauty is almost surreal."

"Asked around. Explored for myself when I was supposed to be training."

Chris took her by the hand, and they started walking. As two tiny creatures, they dipped below the cover of the tropical rainforest, the vegetation swelling above and beyond their proportions.

Soon they were climbing along the ridge of a new rock. It had an even better view. When Chris stopped leading the way, Cassie leaned against the vertical rockface at her back.

Chris paced to the right. Upon his return, he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm not very good at speeches," he finally said, "so we'll make this into a . . . conversation."

She gave him an encouraging gaze. "All right."

"There's a story to tell and I need your memory to help guide us there."

"Of course."

He took her by the hand and squeezed it once before starting. "The night after our reunion, that awful one in the castle where you told me to get lost, there were other missteps too. It was one of many, am I right?"

"Yes, on both my end and yours, I'm sure."

Chris nodded to confirm. "Luck didn't seem to be on our side. Then, after we evaded those Gray Coats and that Fire Breather the next day—the first one—and arrived at Aurora Borealis, do you remember this first thing you asked me when we walked into my room?"

Cassie smiled due to what looked like a secret of her own. "I do. 'This is where you were staying last night?' I only asked because I went looking for you the night before. And the desk clerk told me you were staying . . . somewhere else."

"Oh, I didn't know that." A smile was about to break free of his control.

"Now you do. And what a foil to Andromeda's plan it would have been if I had found you. Although I'm sure we would have been in grave danger the next day, regardless."

"True. Yes, who knows where we'd be now? Maybe what actually happened, happened for a reason, though. And, well, the reason I'm bringing the room switch up is because of the very first night we met, the day I had to accept I was a 'fairy.' When I entered your old life, I was in such a bad place. My entire reality was turned upside down. Everything around me should have been a blur. And yet, somehow, the painting on the wall was like a calling. Now I'm no art enthusiast, never was, but I couldn't take my eyes off that sun."

"Probably because it was such an awful depiction," Cassie chimed in with a wince. "It doesn't . . . didn't. . ." she corrected as she seemed to recall the fate of the Aurora Borealis, "even look like the sun."

"Well, I liked it. It let me escape for a second, and it gave me the hope I needed to carry on. Before I looked away, I checked the artist's name. I didn't know who 'Labelle' was, so the name didn't stick. I didn't make the connection to you until I saw the painting for the second time, four and a half years later." Chris paused for a deep breath, one that calmed him, as much as could be expected under the circumstances. "You're probably wondering where this is leading."

Cassie slipped her hand out of his and latched her arms around his neck. They shifted to a position where they could both see the view of the ocean with a slight turn of their heads. "I know there's a point or we wouldn't be overlooking what we have before us." She leaned her head on his shoulder and they spent a few moments marveling at what had to be one of the most beautiful places on earth.

"Right, well . . . you like the sun." He stroked a hand down her hair, long and loose, smooth and perfectly straight, seemingly untouched by the humidity. "It was one of the first things I learned about you. In Hawaii, I watched you come alive in it. For those years without you, I thought of you every time it was shining. I couldn't stop thinking about you. And that's why at Aurora Borealis I was practically begging the gods to put me out of my misery. I saw your painting as a sign, one I apparently misinterpreted. I took it as the end, as in the end of the world, when really it was a second chance. I guess that . . . what I'm trying to say is . . . you are my star, my light, the reason I get up every morning, trying to make this world a better place. And that's why I got you this. . . ."

Chris pulled the engagement ring from his pocket, got down on one knee, and opened the glass box.

Cassie cupped her hands over her mouth at the first sight of it. The ring was, indeed, quite the phenomena in the sunlight and in the presence of its rightful owner. A Pixie Elf. . .

"It's a yellow sapphire. I know it's a little unconventional. It reminded me of you, though, and just like you, it became the one. And, so . . . I was wondering if . . . you'll marry me. I hope so, because. . ." He bit his lip in attempt to control the mix of emotions—the grief he might finally escape and the relief he'd feel if she said yes, ending the darkest and loneliest time of his life. "I can't live without you. Trust me. I've tried."

Their teary eyes met. Seeing each other that way, they couldn't help but laugh. Once they regained their composure, they tidied up their faces, and Chris slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit and her newly ringed hand reached for his cheek.

She kissed him and then paused. She waited for his smile. Then she kissed him again, and again, and again. "I love you," she mumbled against his lips.

"I love you, too."

Their kiss became the type that led somewhere. He only put a stop to it because there were a few more surprises in store for her. "So, what do you say? Are you ready to be my wife?"

"I've never said this word and meant it more. Yes!"

"All right, then. How does now sound?"

She looked into his eyes and then down at herself, her confusion evident. "I'm still in my bathrobe."

"Ah, yes you are." Chris rose to his feet and led her away by the hand again. "And that's why. . ." He guided her farther up the rock formation. Eventually, the area flattened out. A large white tent stood before them, swelling in the breeze. Simona, Jasmine, Carina, and Angelica were there beside it. "I've recruited some help."

The pink committee of fairies fluttered toward Cassie and shooed Chris away. Cassie practically floated off the ground as their flying fairy companions guided her into the tent by the hands.

Chris never saw the wedding dress he had asked his lady friends to design and assemble—The Jokura sisters having the resources, Angelica and Carina the fem-fairies with the tailoring skills—but he trusted their know-how and judgement.

He lingered outside the tent long enough to hear Cassie's three-tiered gasp. It was the reaction he was waiting for. Hoping for with bated breath. His work here was done.

He jogged off with a speed and lightness of step that did well to represent who he was, whom he loved, and what he couldn't wait to attain.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

A whistle sounded. Then glass shattered and wood splintered with apocalyptic force.

Leo Labelle was at his wife's sickbed. He brought his elbow to his face and threw his torso over his wife as the glass rained down on them. Within moments, Crown Champions filed in, circling the room, blocking all exits, their weapons drawn, prepped to subdue . . . or kill.

The unarmed, unsuspecting medical doctor did not put up a fight. They immediately clipped an iron jaw to his wings and tethered his limbs together, wrist to wrist, foot to foot, and foot to hand as well.

The queen's newly appointed Inquisitor General then entered their "secret" attic hideaway. His scroll snapped like a whip when he unrolled it. "Dr. Leo Labelle, you are under arrest for treason. Your rights have been terminated until further notice. You will be a ward of Pyxis until Her Majesty reviews your testimony. Her fair and honorable ruling will determine your fate. May you be brought to justice for your crimes against her, her regime, and the citizens she protects."

The Inquisitor General would not list his alleged crimes. The queen's servants of justice never did. Even if the queen knew nothing of the aid he administered to Christopher and Cassiopeia, Leo had the suspicion his fate was sealed regardless. His brother, Perseus—Cassiopeia's father—had twenty-five-year-old offenses that were enough to condemn Leo to death as well. Leo was lucky to have been spared when the "deformed" princess was born, and Perseus was caught trying to escape with her.

Leo tried not to show emotion even though Élodie was crying and reaching for him. He couldn't even say, "I love you." Since he had changed her name on her files, they might not realize she was his wife. But her declining health meant she was unlikely to survive without him anyway, even if his business partner somehow avoided arrest and provided the care she needed.

As Leo was carried down the stairs, back down, limbs up, like a slaughtered animal, his eyes narrowed in on a potential source of betrayal. His partner was standing by the door of his personal residence, speaking with two Crown Champions. His posture was relaxed, his expression, jovial. Then he laughed. . . .

"You're the only one who knew, Muriel," Leo called out to him on his way out the door. "I trusted you!"

Muriel interrupted his conversation to turn his head and glare. At that moment, he knew the truth; Élodie would die, too.

Now Leo wished he had taken a moment to say good-bye.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

At a secluded inlet of beach where the sand met the shade of the jungle, Christopher MacRae, the antsy groom, was pacing around barefoot. He remembered to coordinate almost every detail of "the big day," except for the pocket watch he forgot. His restless mind couldn't quite grasp that the watch was at the hut, miles away, so he kept reaching into his pocket for it. And he cursed himself every time his hand returned empty.

Bane, the dutiful and loyal "Best Man" every groom ought to have, gave him a slap and squeeze on his shoulder. "She's coming. Relax."

"I know she is. I just thought it'd be twenty minutes ago."

"It's easy to tell you've never had sisters."

Chris sighed, rolled his shoulders around, shook his hands at the wrist, bounced up and down, and moved his head in a circle. Then he surveyed the scene—again—to make sure he had no loose ends dangling.

The guests were mingling, standing near or seated on the blankets beside the "aisle." The children, including Chris's tropically dressed twins, were playing something along the lines of "keep away" or "tag" when they weren't busy helping guests find seats on the sand.

Thanks to Bane's reassurance, Chris felt slightly less edgy for a minute or two, but that feeling soon passed. "Do you think something happened? I know I sound paranoid, but could someone find us here?" Chris pressed his thumb and index finger into his forehead above his eyebrows, undoubtedly hard enough to leave fingerprints. "After what happened in Pyxis . . . anything is possible . . . do you think . . . should we . . . ? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Where's my. . ." He reached for his belt. No scabbard. "Where's my godforsaken sword?" Chris cupped his hands over his mouth. "Ryan!" he shouted.

While in flight, midair, Ryan and Morgan whirled toward the sound of their father's voice.

They were in charge of bringing it down from the tent.

Chris simulated swordplay with his right hand. Then he twisted his mouth and hands into a shape they could interpret as a question mark.

Morgan shrugged and Ryan made an "I dunno" gesture with his hands, shoulders, and face.

Chris emitted an irritable sigh and pulled at his hair, which was yet another mistake, he realized, a fraction of a second too late. He didn't have a comb with him either! In a counterproductive frenzy, he attempted to correct the damage he had inflicted with only his hands and without a mirror.

"Chris, you don't need your sword!" Bane bellowed through a chuckle, a hand placed atop the hilt of his own sword, ready at the waist. At least he was prepared for anything. "You didn't even tell me where we were going today. But if it would make you feel better, I'll fly up there and check on. . ." Bane trailed off or maybe it was just Chris who stopped listening. Someone else was consuming all of his attention. "It's not too late. We could leave now. Make it to Tahiti by nightfall."

"Huh . . . wha?" Chris sputtered.

"Forget it. That hook is embedded so deep in your mouth, a surgeon wouldn't even be able to remove it!"

Chris gave Bane a quick sardonic glance when the jab finally sunk in. But then he was trying to hold in the laughter as he surrendered to the truth. He was hooked until death do us part. And even then. . .

The wood flute and fairy mandolin began to play their walking tempo, air-light tune. The bridesmaids made their way forward and then . . . at long last . . . Chris got his first unobstructed view of his bride-to-be.

Chris entrusted Angelica with the task of taking the lead in regard to Cassie's wedding dress. His only stipulation was that it be simple and delicate. And he was not disappointed. The shimmery knee-length skirt and wispy sleeves moved weightlessly in the ocean breeze and the scoop-neck bodice clung to her like a white glove.

No dress could possibly be as beautiful as the fairy princess who was wearing it, however. Cassie's dark hair was pinned up in elaborate twists and decorated with tiny white flowers. Her deep-brown eyes were showing flecks of purple that seemed to catch the light from the sun, the ring, and her smile. And her lips were so decadently, kissably pink. He could practically taste her already. There is nothing sweeter. . . .

Cassie handed Carina her white-tipped, yellow-centered plumeria flower when Morgan and Ryan reached for her hands. They delivered her to Chris. Then she gave each twin a kiss on both cheeks. After stroking the pink ribbons in Morgan's hair, she joined hands with Chris for the August wedding of their dreams.

The ceremony was officiated by the Kāne spiritual guru, known as "the Holy One." His English was spotty, his manner, a little unorthodox, and he was hilariously blunt. The old fairy kept Cassie giggling by flirting with her shamelessly, and he made fun of Chris at every opportunity.

When the Holy One asked Cassie if she wanted to run away with him instead, she gave him a dignified smile and an appreciative nod, which was really a bow of refusal. "No, I'm very sorry. He's the only one for me."

Chris squeezed her hands when their eyes met.

And so, they presented the rings. Cassie slipped the blue sapphire wedding band on Chris's finger and she removed her engagement ring so he could do the same.

They rejoined hands.

"You better kiss her now, or I will," the Holy One declared for all to hear.

Chris shifted a shoulder, pretending to block him. "No need. I got it."

Polite laughter flittered through the sultry summer air. But Chris barely noticed. His face was converging with Cassie's for their first kiss of a new era. And kiss her he did. His bride. His wife!

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Pearl Jam. Just Breathe.

~

"Yeah I'm a lucky man

To count on both hands

The ones I love

Some folks just have one

Yeah others they got none

Stay with me

Let's just breathe"

https://youtu.be/_7ioE4wRil8