It was Saturday, May 24th, at last! The Pyxis Freedom Press claimed the University of Pyxis Commencement Gala was going to be one of the grandest events of the year. "Only the upcoming summer-solstice wedding of the princess to the Prime Minister's son could even compare."  

While Joseph and Scott MacRae were mingling with their out-of-town guests in the Hall of Crystal—and expecting her to be in their company already—Cassie closed the news article and set it aside.

She was still in her chamber wearing only her corset and petticoat beneath her robe. Though her hair was braided, curled, and pinned in a masterful up-do and her features were highlighted and painted to perfection, Cassie couldn't bring herself to stop staring out the window.

It was difficult for Cassie to keep track of Pyxis' formally dressed new arrivals. Their colors and styles varied so much. Fairies from all over the world were attending the gala.

Cassie was also having trouble finding the motivation to get dressed. Alexander never returned to fix the lavender gown. After the way he had acted, she wasn't sure she would accept his services anyway.  

She decided to browse through her wardrobe one last time. Although she didn't particularly care if anyone noticed that she wore the same gown twice, she dreaded the comments that might appear in the loathsome "High Society" column of the Pyxis Freedom Press. Her name would be in print regardless, and she didn't want to give them any extra ammunition.

At the back of the wardrobe, she rediscovered a black gown—one of Alexander's—that she had never worn before. The top was tight, modestly lowcut in a triangular fashion, sleeveless, and embellished with crystals of black onyx. The skirt poof was satiny, flowing, layered, embroidered, and laced, all so intriguingly asymmetrical.

It was similar to the gowns her mother used to wear. Black was just a color, though. Evil was done, not worn. And Cassie had to admit that black suited her taste and complexion, too.

With her choice made, she stepped into the gown in front of her three-paneled mirror. As she was pulling it up, she heard a knock.

Certain it was Joe, she said, "I'm nearly ready. I'll be joining you momentarily."

To her surprise, when she checked over her shoulder, Alexander was letting himself inside her chamber. Cassie resumed looking at her reflection. Her cheeks flushed to a livid shade of pink.

Cassie shifted the strapless gown underneath her arms for a distraction rather than a sound purpose. "I have nothing to say to you." She didn't even glance at him in the mirror.

"Cassiopeia, darling, my deepest apologies. . ."

"Is that all?"

"That, and I've designed the perfect gown for your wedding," he trilled, like he was a bird or an instrument.

She wasn't in the mood for his wheedling, though. "Do you expect me to sing your praises?"

"No, but I beg you for another chance." Before she had an opportunity to comment, he was tugging on her dress at the back and bust. "Is this really what you've chosen for tonight? It is a little dreary for the occasion. No?" he asked, though, again, he didn't wait for her response. "It was designed for the funeral of. . ." He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the name. "Someone's father."

"The Foreign Minister's," Cassie filled in. "Then his father made a miraculous recovery. It's a beautiful gown, though, one of your best. And it warrants an audience."

Alexander was already rummaging through her wardrobe. He returned with a white silk scarf. "Here." He removed her dark jeweled necklace and replaced it with the scarf. He made sure to wrap and drape it artfully before backing away for a better look. "It brightens the whole ensemble."

"You're right. It does," she added, not beaming with pleasure but satisfied, nonetheless.

She turned to analyze her scar. The scarf did a magnificent job covering the jagged half-circle across her shoulder, a nasty parting gift from her mother. Even the best make-up artists had trouble concealing it. She was too pale and the scar was a deep pink. When it was exposed at formal occasions, she resented those who paused, sometimes midsentence, just to stare.

"You will never be French. . ."

Cassie met Alexander's gaze in the mirror. She had heard him say this about a thousand times, in two languages, and often between curse words how "not French" he considered her. 

"But you are très magnifique," he added as an unexpected compliment.

"Merci beaucoup," she said as she accepted his extended arm.

Alexander escorted Cassie into the Hall of Crystal. Joe had his back turned, but as they descended the last few steps of the Grand Staircase, Joe glanced and then noticed. His slightly open mouth corrected itself into a smile.  

"Thank you, Alexander," Joe said as he replaced Alexander's arm with his own. "I can take it from here."

There was a coach waiting for them on Royal Way. Once they and their guests were all seated, Scott MacRae gave Joe the nod. With a stroke of Joe's hand, the coach magically sprang into motion. No driver or mouse was required. Only a MacRae presence.

When they arrived at their midtown destination, they were greeted with scrutiny and loud whispers. Cassie squeezed Joe's arm and averted her eyes while Joe strode into the Gallery of Enlightenment with confidence.

Underneath the center of the high-domed ceiling, their group met up with Dr. Kentaurus, the president of The University of Pyxis.

"I heard the commencement ceremony went well," Scott MacRae said upon receiving their host's handshake. "You must be very proud. Congratulations."

"Thank you," the president replied. "We couldn't have done it without your support."

"I apologize for my absence," Scott added. "I'll make sure my schedule doesn't contain a conflict next year."

"Make certain you do." The president chuckled. "Next year's graduating class is nearly double the size."      

"This evening is truly a reason to celebrate then." Joe edged his way into the conversation with political seamlessness. "The success of the university surpassed even our most optimistic expectations. . . ."

And they kept at it, adding their niceties in layers, as fairy-males of importance were known to do.     

Cassie never minded following along. It was the only way they'd tell her anything—while they were talking around her.

However, on this occasion, a fair-haired fairy-male suddenly acquired her gaze. Walking, floating, flying, and hovering fairies obstructed him from view, but she caught a glimpse of him running his fingers through his hair.

Cassie couldn't breathe or even think. Then she spotted wings—perfect wings, bred with careful consideration, unmarred by war or poverty. Her racing heart crashed down to a murmur.

Christopher MacRae didn't have wings.

When, at last, this young fairy-male was facing her, she conceded that he didn't even look that much like Chris. But there was something about the student's manner that continued to remind her of him. He had on a crooked bow tie and accidently backed into an attractive fem-fairy. Some of his drink splashed out of his goblet. He flushed with color and apologized profusely.

Chris wasn't clumsy. Quite the opposite, actually. But it was a flicker in the eyes, perhaps. The panic in them after making a social blunder. This one note of insecurity, as nonsensical as it may seem to others, would blow the offense vastly out of proportion.

The fairy-male in question then consumed the rest of his drink in one nervous gulp and forced a smile when an older, much shorter fairy joined his side.

Cassie's grip tightened on Joe's arm. "Are you all right?" Joe whispered in her ear. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Cassie let out a dry laugh. Joe smiled, unknowingly, and patted her hand.  

Her interest returned to the fairy-male and his older companion. They both looked familiar, she acknowledged, as they approached the circle surrounding Dr. Kentaurus and Scott MacRae.

"Ah! Dr. Labelle!" Scott exclaimed.

That's why! Cassie had been looking forward to meeting her uncle. The only reliable information she had ever received about her father's family was from Scott. And since Scott was only a friend of the family, his knowledge was disappointingly limited. Until recently, she believed her father's entire family had died. The few times Scott spoke of them, it was in the past tense.

Was she the last to know the truth? It certainly felt like it. It was likely the result of absentmindedness, but still, it would bother her to no end.

"It's nice to see you again after all these years. You've barely aged a day, my friend," Leo Labelle said to Scott.

Scott sought Cassie's gaze and she had it ready for him. At his wave for her to come closer, she joined them, and Joe followed.

"Leo, I'd like you to meet my son, Joseph." Scott placed his hand on Joe's shoulder. "And his fiancée, who I'm sure requires no introduction, Miss Cassiopeia Labelle." 

Leo kissed her hand and she curtsied and bowed her head in appreciation. "It is such a pleasure to finally meet you, my dear. From what I remember, you resemble my mother. I was only eight years old when she passed, but a face like hers—and yours—is not easily forgotten."

"Thank you. It is truly an honor to meet you as well," Cassie replied.

Leo put his hand on the back of his young companion, the fairy-male Cassie had noticed earlier. "And this is Apollo. He is my student escort for the night. He is quite the accomplished scholar."

Cassie was the third one to shake his hand. And when their hands touched, it was Apollo who appeared as if he had seen a ghost. It always surprised her how the "Princess of Pyxis" could provoke such awe and admiration in a significant bunch, usually male but not always. She wasn't winged, loquacious, vivacious, or even important enough to have a say in the kingdom she was supposed to rule one day.

She smiled inwardly. Despite it all, perhaps she had an aura, so drastically different from that of her mother or deceased half-brother, but effective all the same. "Apollo, it is such a pleasure to meet you. You have a befitting name, I might add. You remind me of someone I once knew."

"I-I hope that's a good thing," he stammered.

This made her smile, one for all to see. "It definitely is. And congratulations for your success. I expect great things from you."

Apollo blushed like a boy in love. She could feel his eyes following her as Joe intervened with a smile and a firm grip on her hand. He guided her to a new locale in a way she would call cordially territorial. 

They found their seats in the dining area. Joe pulled out Cassie's chair and helped her slide it into position. Then he excused himself for what he claimed would be just a minute.

There were two other fairies on the opposite side of the table, whom she did not know. Fortunately, Leo took the chair beside her. "I'm glad we have a moment alone together."

"So am I," Cassie replied. "Please, if you can spare more than a moment, could you share something about our family? My father, in particular?"

"It's of no surprise that you would want to know more about Perseus. His knowledge and magical expertise could have rendered him omnipotent, but he was one of the kindest, gentlest fairies I have ever known. Ambitious but never greedy. He would have been a good father to you."

"I hoped you would say that. Do you see any of him in me?"

"Yes, and he would be quite proud. Fairies, near and far, have heard of your integral role in the Sauvageau Dynasty's downfall. Honestly, I never believed it would happen in my lifetime."

"I'm flattered, really. Though I'm not sure my role was as 'integral' as you claim. I did as much as one wingless fairy could do without superior strength or magic."

"You didn't use magic? Perseus's daughter? That's impossible."

"I'm sorry to inform you, but I can't perform magic. Even contemplating the idea of learning it dredges up some dismal memories."

"Well. . ." He sighed and then did something she did not expect. He lowered the scarf on her neck and smiled as if he already knew what he'd see—her fairy mark.

She considered it a star, but that was just a guess. Despite her years of library research, and her efforts to question the wise and scholarly, nothing ever provided her with the answers she sought. So she stopped looking and asking. Eventually, she stopped caring. If her star had some significance, it would have been common knowledge in the fairy realm.

"I suppose your mother's narrow-minded tactics could stymie the magic in the best of us," he continued. "You would merely require a tutor more suitable for your kind. If you ever feel inclined to learn, I could provide you with a few names."

"I appreciate the offer, and yet—"

Joe, Scott, Dr. Kentaurus, as well as Corvus and Ara Fournier, the couple they had come across outside of Pyxis a week prior, joined the table all at once. Their discussion filled the space around her.

"I regret that I have to say farewell, Cassiopeia," Leo whispered to her as he rose from his chair. "I have to prepare for my speech. I hope our paths cross again before I return to France. If not, I wish you all the best."   

"Wait!" Cassie grabbed his arm as he turned to go. "You're not staying in Pyxis? When are you leaving?"

"My wife, Élodie, has fallen ill here and wishes to return home as soon as possible. I'm looking into a few things regarding what remains of the Labelle estate and then we intend to leave by week's end."

"If you could extend your stay a little longer, I do so hope you could attend my wedding on June 21st. You are the closest thing I have to a father."

He gave her a sad smile and patted her hand. "I'll see what I can do."

Her winged uncle hovered toward the crowd by the podium. As far as she knew, every relative of hers had wings, and she had a useless star instead.

Cassie continued to watch for him, preoccupied by all he had said, even after he had faded from view.

Not one to let her mind wander for any length of time, Joe nudged her foot underneath the table. In body and mind, she turned back to Joe and the discussion at the dinner table.

Joe winked.

And then words were spoken, ones she did not anticipate . . . not here, not now. . .

"Let's raise our glasses and make a toast to another successful year at The University of Pyxis," Corvus Fournier said. "And while I'm here with my glass raised, I'd like to thank the MacRaes for finally sending the approval letter for the expansion of the Science Center." 

Everyone chuckled as Corvus poked fun at the MacRae Administration's notorious reluctance. But Cassie was not amused. She directed her glare at Joe. It would have pierced right into him had he not been too busy chatting with Dr. Kentaurus on his left.

Did he really forget? The conversation they had had only a week ago, right before they were engaged to be married?

I said I would consider his proposal, Cassie recalled verbatim. You have to know by now that 'consider' in the language of politics means 'ha ha. Nice try, but the chance of your request coming to fruition is somewhere between slim and none.'

Cassie removed her napkin from her lap and quietly left the table. She needed some air, preferably before she said the wrong thing to the wrong fairy-male.  

Once outside the building, she found a secluded window inlet to lean against. She shivered and folded her arms over her chest. Away from the blazing fires and the closeness of others, the cave was chilly and damp. She wasn't about to go back in, however. Her desire for solitude outweighed her need for warmth. 

She let her head rest against the glass and closed her eyes. She didn't normally allow herself to think of him, but Chris came to mind again and more vividly than before.

She wondered what it would have been like if he had never left Pyxis. He would still be alive, perhaps, but she struggled to place him in her world. Would he be fraternizing with the wealthy and the powerful, shaking hands, patting other fairy-males on the back, congratulating them for jobs well done? She didn't believe so. He probably would have stepped out of the building over an hour ago to catch some "air," and that's assuming he'd have come in the first place.

The thought made her smile. It was a smile that brought tears to her eyes, though. Before she forced her mind to go somewhere else, anywhere else, she hoped that wherever he was, dead or alive, that he was finally at peace.

From there, she could move in only one direction: down the stairs, away from the gala.

Her determined feet hit the cobblestone road in front of the University. She headed toward The Mainway. She craved only the quiet comfort of her chamber and the warmth of her bed.

"Would you like a coach, miss?" an idle driver asked as she flurried by.

"No, thank you."

She wanted to walk. Normally she wasn't allowed to go anywhere by herself. Usually, she had no great desire to disobey the protocols for her safety. Tonight, however, she wanted to see Pyxis from a normal fairy's perspective, the way she had done before her mother's rule ended.

Cassie kept her senses in tune to those who were the most invisible—the homeless. Young and old, and in between. Others were sick, blind, or crippled, and for various reasons—ancestry, hardship, or cruelty—they were typically flightless.

Pyxis was unarguably a better place without Andromeda as its ruler. Unfortunately, certain aspects of society had changed very little since her mysterious departure.

Cassie attempted to be the champion for the forgotten, but those who had the true power always made her feel tiny and insignificant. She had reached a point where she was through with trying, and that wasn't the way she used to be. Something deep within her died the day Andromeda's infamous dagger hit her shoulder. She didn't know if or when she would ever come alive again.

The crowds on The Mainway grew denser as she neared some of the popular venues for nighttime debauchery. She could detect the leers and heard a few unsavory comments about her dress, too grand to evade notice, and how "tight-laced" she would be beneath it (and various remedies).

Cassie made the decision to cut through an alley. She knew a short cut to Royal Way, one where she would not be bothered to any great extent. She had veered there a thousand times before and always survived to tell the tale.

The crowd thinned considerably. She removed her stiletto heels, carrying them in her hand as she dashed though the narrower, dimly-lit lane, light on her feet.

Still, despite her pace, she had the suspicion she was being followed. There was a soft, intermittent but persistent hum of wings, as if a pursuer was making the effort to travel as soundlessly as possible. It neither strengthened nor weakened, demonstrating that whoever was behind her was intentionally matching her speed.

Soon, she could feel the prickle of danger. She had learned to trust it over the years. Her intuition had been right on many occasions. But there wasn't always enough time to give her much of an advantage.

As that thought crossed her mind, a winged fairy dropped down from the window of a three-story building, landing right before her.

Cassie gasped at his size and recoiled when he bared his teeth like a rabid animal. She bumped into someone else in the process, likely that sneaking presence from behind. It was another fairy-male, she assumed, because her head crashed into solid muscle. The hand that flew over her mouth was big enough to smother her entire face. 

She was only a stone's throw away from Royal Way and the gate of the Aerial Palace, unguarded, she realized.

As she was yanked into a crack between buildings, a rough fabric sack was tugged over her head.

She knew the blow to the head was coming. It would take the terror and dread from mind. For a fraction of a second, she was grateful for that potential respite. Until it happened, and she collapsed.

The strength. The precision. The pain gave her no choice.