WHEN NAMYRA WOKE, HER head was screaming in pain, much like the rest of her body. Titania's wave had knocked her into a fountain, and the shattered rock now pinned her down in the water, which rinsed her clean of blood and dirt. She groaned as she hefted the marble off so she could sit up, and every part of her throbbed when she finally made it to her feet.

She was lucky enough to be knocked unconscious when the rest of the Seelies grieved their oppressive Queen, and though she'd dodged the pain, she could still feel her absence. She didn't know how heavy her presence was until it was gone, replaced by a younger energy, more masculine, sad but not angry as Titania's had been.

She tiptoed over the piles of bodies littering the stone steps, looking up at the crumbled palace. It was a strong building, not broken beyond repair, but it would take many hands and a lot of time to get it back to its previous glory.

The doors groaned and creaked when Namyra pushed them open in pursuit of the nearest living person she could feel. The floors were covered in broken plaster and dust, more things she had to step around in her search. She could feel the faint tug of life pulling her in the direction of the ballroom, and when she slipped through the doors, she froze in her tracks.

She hardly recognized Morgana, though he looked more familiar to her with his white hair pulled back into a loose updo than he ever did with black, streaked locks that made him look like a true Unseelie. With his light hair and his sharp, glistening wings, ripped and ragged as they were, she could at least pretend they would get along.

He was sitting on the throne, rigid and bothered, with something on his mind that formed a crease between his brow. He didn't even notice Namyra there until she cleared her throat and his head shot up, startled.

"Your Highness," he greeted bitterly.

"You can call me Namyra," she gritted. "Since I'm assuming you've ascended. You're above me now." The words caught on their way out. "Your Majesty."

He grimaced and waved his hand. "No, not yet," he murmured. "No one else knows. Mab wants me to have a coronation. Until then I'm just... waiting."

"How come you get to be King?" she asked, looking him up and down. "You're not Seelie."

"Half Seelie, apparently, and I'll be Queen," he corrected, resting his face on his fist. "I guess that matters. Mab is the only one alive who remembers the last time this happened, save for the Gods, and it's all so confusing. I wish that stupid Grail didn't choose me."

"'Grail?'" Namyra echoed.

"The Holy Grail," said Morgana. "Apparently, when Chalice made their wish, it chose the nearest child of Titania to take up the throne when she died. That way, you all didn't have to go with her when she did, because you had something else to attach to." His nose curled up at the thought of it. "I hate it just as much as you do."

"I don't hate it, I just... it's strange. It's confusing. I didn't think it'd be you of all people."

"I'm going to find someone else," Morgana told her. "I haven't said that to the others, but I figure you deserve to know. Once I'm coronated, I'm going to search for all of Titania's other children and find one that would be better at this than me. I can already feel how much the people will hate me. I'm not one of them, and I have no hope to be."

He was right. If the Seelies found out their ruler was a half-breed man, they'd riot. They'd feel they were being taken over by the Unseelies, especially if they knew Mab was his advisor. She hadn't stopped to think about how weird this all was, she didn't even feel surprised when she saw him on the throne. Her whole world was already shifted now that Titania was dead, and perhaps the nature of the Queen was easing her into it.

"You were loyal to her," Morgana noted, grabbing her attention again. "To Titania. I'm sure you miss her. I'm sorry for the lousy replacement."

"You're not all bad," she said honestly. "I used to be fond of you, you know. Only reason I stopped was because I had to. Titania had my family under her thumb and I offered to assist her if she'd set my kingdom free."

Morgana leaned in. "Why weren't they free in the first place?"

"I've no idea, I suppose we were just a convenient grasp at power," she explained. "I was ready to ascend to the throne, my parents are old and frail, they were easy to manipulate. For the strongest woman in the world, Titania was sure desperate for control."

"Maybe she wasn't as powerful as she boasted," he reasoned.

"Or she was being threatened." When Morgana furrowed his brow, she continued. "She always acted so paranoid, like she was being watched. She was so secretive and suspicious of everything, and every time one thing didn't go the way she planned, she freaked out." Namyra swallowed. "I think there was someone else more powerful than her that finally got the upper hand of a deal."

Morgana looked over his shoulder at the empty doorway beside him. "Mab?"

She shook her head. "No. The woman's just a recluse. I think there's someone else. Someone we should all be wary of."

He was quiet for several long moments, then he rose from his seat, leaning on a flashy cane as he closed the distance between them. "Thank you, Namyra," he said, and extended a hand. "I think you'll be a worthy ally. What do you say we put all this mess behind us and start fresh?"

Namyra slid her warm hand into his  freezing palm and shook once, staring into his eyes like she was searching for any hint of deception. She found nothing. "If this deal is one-sided, I'll kill you in your sleep."

A small smile graced the corner of his lips, and Namyra had to stifle a gasp. His smile was still so breathtakingly beautiful, and she hadn't seen it in what felt like centuries. His voice held a flair of joy that made her heart skip. "I don't doubt it."

* * *

Selene didn't see Giselle for a whole day, she'd been bedridden with achess, until the princess tiptoed into her room at the dead of night, clasping a stack of papers to her chest and beaming with the joy of a child on their birthday. Her hair glowed brighter than it often did, the little butterflies she'd once thought were simply accessories fluttering around her head in a dazzling flurry.

"You look like you've found the pot of gold," the Lady said, rising to a sitting position.

Giselle set the parchment down on her nightstand, pulling a random one from the stack and stuffing it into Selene's empty hands. "Read this," she told her, nearly bouncing off the walls.

Selene cast the princess a fond glance before she obediently looked down at the page, tucking a rogue strand of pale hair behind her ear, and a flash of emotions stirred over her face as she read the letter in silence.

         "To the royal family of the Vernal Court,
         Following the startling death of our Queen Titania, may she rest in peace, the Grand Seelie Court is pleased to announce the coronation of the new Queen, appointed by the Gods, His Majesty Morgana of the Winter Court.
         We understand there will be many a protest regarding this election, however it is what the Gods decided and thus it cannot be undone. You will be free to voice your concerns with a letter to the Grand Seelie Palace after the three-day celebration of the crowning of our new Queen.
         This letter may serve as your invitation to the ceremony, and afterwards, the celebration.
          Sincerely, the High Council of the Grand Seelie Court."

The war ended days ago, and Giselle had done nothing but sit by the gate awaiting any news of her friends, with absolutely nothing until now. Selene supposed this was the best news the princess could've possibly received, and she was so delighted, it didn't seem to cross her mind just how dangerous and stressful this position would for Morgana.

"I didn't even know he was Seelie," said Selene.

Giselle glowed. "Isn't it exciting? I'm sure it was what caused his illness, but he's the Queen now! Oh, I'm overjoyed, I want to see him now but mother says I can't go to the castle yet. She's been so protective of me lately."

"I can understand why," said Selene, pushing back the princess's coily bangs so she could kiss her forehead. "A war leaves people shaken, even if we hardly took a hit."

"I hear the Autumn Court fared just as well," said Giselle. "I'm glad they're alright. Astyr came by for a visit to make sure we were okay and told me as much. I'm still waiting to hear of the Winter and Summer Courts. They're the warrior Courts, so I fear for them."

Selene pulled the princess into her arms and pressed her cheek against her dark, shimmering chest. "It'll all be alright. With Morgana as Queen, perhaps he can help things get better here in Faerie." That is, if he isn't too busy fighting off assassination attempts, she wanted to say, but didn't. She'd rather bite off her own thumb than squander Giselle's joy, even if it wasn't realistic.

The Queen didn't let Giselle leave the palace until the next day, after hours of the princess pleading and bargaining and Selene assuring her she'd protect her while they were gone. They were allowed to go, under the condition that Giselle would stay if their friends decided to set off on another dangerous adventure. It was a hard choice to make, but the princess was determined to see her friend, so she agreed.

As they approached the palace, Selene tried not to focus on the faint red stains covering the steps. No one had bothered to glamour the mess away. Scaffolding and neat piles of debris tucked away in the corners showed signs of active construction. The palace took a hit, though it hadn't been so destroyed as Mab's was. Selene had to know if the others were alright, especially Kit and the boy. The prince drove her crazy sometimes, and but he was family. It would kill her if something happened to them.

Her chest was filled with overwhelming relief when Kit burst through the doors to greet them, pulling the women into his arms in a suffocating embrace. Normally, Selene would've been bothered, but now it felt like home.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Kit said as he stepped back.

Giselle fussed over him, examining his face and his slightly exposed chest, even his hands and arms. "You're well?" she asked. "You're all well? Tell me no one got hurt."

"Well," Kit said, scratching the back of his neck. "Morgana did. Pretty badly. But he's back now. He broke through his wall, Giselle."

The princess's eyes lit up, literally, and Selene's heart drummed in her chest. "Heavens, can I see him?" Giselle cried. "Oh, please, let me see him."

Kit grinned and took her free hand, the one not hanging onto Selene like she might slip away if she let go. The Lady happily followed the two into the palace and towards the ballroom, where an almost unrecognizable Morgana busied himself with polishing the floor.

Selene's hand went cold as Giselle abandoned her side to tackle her friend, whose laughed sounded like the tinkling of bells when he saw her. She didn't think she would enjoy his laugh so much, but she did. It was hard to find patience for the men of their group, but she loved them anyways, she truly did, and she was glad they were safe.

She glanced over to Kit, who watched the two with glistening eyes and his jaw clenched as though he'd been punched in the gut. Selene brushed her fingers over his forearm to grab his attention, then asked, "You okay?"

It was clear he was forcing back tears, and he gulped when he looked at her. "I will be," he said. "I think I messed up. Terribly."

Her first instinct was to make a smart comment, but Selene held her tongue, sensitive to his affliction. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm here if you need anything, alright?"

Kit sniffled, forcing himself to regain his composure. "Thank you, Selene," he told her. "I'll remember that."

She really hoped he would, because this was a man with too much on his shoulders, and he still had too much ahead of him to carry it all on his own.