Elowen was hyperventilating by the time she arrived at the family cottage. Her brother met her at the door. Brennon took one look at her and led her into the small house.

They passed the front room, where her stepmother and stepsisters lounged while discussing the ball like nothing had happened. The girls were still dressed in their finery. Her father was kicked back in a chair, fast asleep, with his glasses dangerously close to falling off his nose.

Brennon steered Elowen upstairs into her room and patted a bed so she could sit beside him as they did when they were small. She burrowed into her brother's arm, and he held her as her body shook against him.

It took almost an hour to tell him what had happened. He was quiet the entire time, listening intently. Then, when she was done, he held her tightly until she finished sobbing.

"That's a lot, El," he said. "I saw you at the ball with Fletcher. I didn't know how you'd gotten there, and I tried to get to you, but Father insisted I give you space if you were finally comfortable mingling with the other aristocracy."

"You saw me?" Her heart sank.

If Brennon had seen her, there would have been no way that her stepmother would not have recognized her when she challenged the royals.

"I mean, you looked really different," he said. "And the dress is spectacular, El. I knew it would be a showstopper. Zax was right when he thought we should pull it out of storage."

"Zax?" Elowen frowned. "You make a new friend and forget to tell me?"

"Zaxten de Bine is someone you would have met if you'd been to any of the family's parties recently," he said. "He's a friend of Prince Bastien, and you could say we're close."

Elowen knew Bine was a province of Sahar Brennon and had visited it thrice last year. His frequent trips into Bine made sense if her brother was so close with this lord.

"Anyway, that doesn't matter," Brennon said. "We should consider what it means if our stepmother is the fairy who cursed her own people out of existence. She's dangerous, and if she saw you helping the Cyrans... it's trouble, El."

She knew he was right. If the countess turned on them, they would have no chance. They needed a plan.

"We can't let her hurt anyone else," she pulled herself out of his arms. "And we need to find Wryn."

Brennon pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. His entire world was spinning on its axis. She gave him a moment to reorient and then straightened.

"We need to go back to Nene," he said. "I'll arrange horses, and you change. We'll leave in half an hour."

Once her brother was gone, she looked down at her beautiful dress. It felt like a shame to set aside the beautiful masterpiece. Still, she changed into one of her brown traveling dresses and removed her jewelry.

She left the crown on her head. Trix had said that it would help her see through magic, and she'd been wearing it when she realized that her stepmother was the evil fairy. No one else had seen through the countess's enchantment.

"The tiara is a new look," Brennon said when she found him in the stable outside the cottage.

"It's a fairy artifact," she said.

"One of Father's?" Brennon frowned. "I've never seen it before."

"Trix gave it to me," she said. "It's special."

He nodded. "We can get to Nene before dawn if we leave now. We should hurry."

He was right. It was the only reason she'd involved her brother. He could watch her back and pull her back when she went too far.

She mounted her horse and marveled at how well her brother had saddled the mounts. She suspected he'd even procured provisions for the journey. She didn't want a savior but wanted Brennon to support her.

"Let's ride," she said, whipping her reins, and they rode off into the night to chase the rising sun over Nene.

By mid-morning, Brennon and Elowen had overturned the countess's entire plant room at the manor. Other than little jars in a cabinet in the back of the countess's workplace that Elowen realized now were full of magic, they'd found nothing incriminating about the countess.

The pair then took an ax to the door to Wryn's room and searched the attic. Elowen found dozens of letters written by Bastien on fancy stationery.

She wondered how long her friend had been keeping such a secret. Wryn had made fun of Elowen for spilling pastries on Fletcher while she'd been seeing Bastien without anyone else finding out.

Brennon wasn't as surprised. He'd heard the rumors that Bastien was seeing a girl. Zax had tried snooping around and determined that Bastien kept showing up at their manor, but he couldn't figure out which girl he was seeing.

"I figured out quickly that it wasn't our stepsisters, and I was starting to wonder if it was you," Brennon said. "Zax and I had a bet that whoever found out who the girl was would pay the other fifty marks."

"Sorry to disappoint," Elowen said. "But I did meet Fletcher at Father's party a week ago."

Brennon's jaw dropped. "El, you kept that from me? Fletcher de Cyra? Father would have been thrilled."

"Why do you think I kept it a secret," Elowen said. "He's a prince."

Brennon reached for her hand and squeezed it. "El, you're the born daughter of an earl. You've got a better chance with a prince than just any girl. I saw you together at the ball. Do you like him?"

Her cheeks heated. She knew she shouldn't like him. Still, there was something about Fletcher that drew her in.

Maybe it was his eyes. The pools surrounded by shadows looked like they might overflow at any moment. He needed help, and Elowen couldn't leave someone in pain.

"Fletcher is betrothed, Bren," she said.

"Who cares?" Her brother squeezed her hand again. "We'll talk to Father. He's friends with the king of Cyra."

"Don't," Elowen said. "I don't want to be a princess."

Brennon raised an eyebrow. "But you want Fletcher?"

Her head bobbled as she swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Maybe if she could help... maybe she could stop picturing him.

It was madness. She wasn't the right kind of bride for a prince. She hated parties and spent her free time waiting for dough to rise. There was no way he would give her the time of day.

Yet he'd asked her to stay.

It tugged at her heartstrings and played a broken tune up and down the beating trickster. His blue eyes were lost in deep darkness. Fletcher wanted her to stay.

A knock on the doorframe sent Elowen soaring back into her body. She turned to see Cookie standing in the doorway with a plate of pastries and a disapproving expression.

"What are you two fools doing?" She held out the baked good, and Elowen's stomach rumbled. "The countess might kill you both now."

"We did consider that," Brennon said, dove into one of the puffed pastries stuffed with meat, and shoved it into his mouth. "But it was important."

"Then I suggest after the two of you eat that you check the countess's basement," Cookie said. "She keeps the worst of her magic down there."

Elowen almost dropped the donut she'd procured from the plate. "You knew? And you never told us?"

"I know better than to run amok of that woman," Cookie shivered. "I think your father knows, but he's afraid of her. So is the staff. It was only a matter of time before her secret got out. After all, she destroyed the fairies."

Cookie refused to show them the basement until they ate. She begrudgingly ate a peach kolache as Brennon inhaled his fourth sausage wrapped in dough. Finally, when they were done, Cookie took them downstairs.

Elowen didn't even know the manor had a basement as Cookie led them through a trap door in the countess's room. The room was dark until Brennon lit candles at the entrance. The little light illuminated a long table covered in jars of goo and gunk.

"I'll leave you to it," Cookie said. "I wouldn't touch much unless you want to unleash something ancient and cruel."

Cookie walked up the stairs just as fast as she'd come down. Elowen didn't blame her. The air down here was foul and stale. She tried to breathe only through her mouth as she thumbed through a few books on the work table.

"This place seems evil," Brennon said as he took a candle to walk around the table.

The books were all written in a language Elowen couldn't read. She couldn't do anything with the jars, so she moved to a large box in the corner of the room. She put a hand on the lid and shuddered as it opened with a blinding flash of light.

"Oh, gods!" She jumped backward as she realized what she'd done.

Brennon moved closer with the light and stopped dead. "Is t-that..."

Elowen's heart dropped as she took in the corpse in the box. The young man had once been handsome, but now his skin was as pale as milk, and his dark hair hung limply around his face. Fairy wings were folded behind his body, and a crown rested on his cold brow.

"The fairy empress's son," Elowen's chest tightened. "Trix thought he was still alive."

"Alive?" Brennon cleared his throat. "I've no desire to see a resurrection. That's the truest dark magic. The man is clearly dead."

Elowen wasn't so sure. A faint glow emanated from the box. Unlike the ones displayed in their parlor, the man's wings shimmered, making her reach out a hand and brush one.

The membrane was warm. A spark jumped from her hand to the wing, and it started to glow brighter. She frowned and placed her hand over his heart.

His chest was cold beneath his tunic. She focused on her own heart and wished that the man might answer her questions. Could he stop the countess?

A rush of wind blew through the basement. Then the fairy's chest rattled, and his eyes flew open. Elowen locked eyes with the fairy empress's son as he rose.

"Thank you," his voice rasped. "I've been waiting for a fairy to find me."

"My sister isn't a fairy," Brennon said.

The fairy took a rattling breath. Then, he climbed out of the box with ease. He was taller than Elowen expected, and his clothes were moth-eaten after sitting in a box for so long.

"She has magic straight from the source," the fairy said. "The empress would want to recruit her one day. My mother did have a knack for collecting talented women."

"Who are you, and how in all the gods did my sister bring you back from literal death?" Brennon demanded.

The fairy sighed. "My name is Rillian, the only child of Fairy Empress Cressida. Your sister has my mother's blessing. That, combined with the crown on her head, reminded me of reasons to live."

Elowen could barely believe her eyes. She'd done magic and brought this fairy to life. If the fairy prince lived, perhaps he could have helped them.

"Trix wasn't sure if you were alive," she said.

Rillian paled. "Oh, my dearest Beatrix. I should find her at once before Monique comes back."

"The countess is probably too busy preparing for her trial tonight to notice we sprung you," Brennon noted.

"There should be no trials without the empress," Rillian said. "Monique cannot continue to draw magic without the isle. The magic will destroy the lands without my mother as a conduit."

"How do we stop her then?" Elowen asked.

"We must stop the trial," Rillian said. "Tell me all that has happened while I was gone."

Elowen turned to her brother. "I'm afraid we might need a fresh set of horses to return to Cyra. You heard him. We have to stop the trial."

Brennon grimaced. "I was afraid you were going to say that. But since there's a fairy standing here, I'd say you're right. He's the only chance that poor Saharite princess has against our stepmother."

With that, Elowen watched her brother once again locate another set of horses for another exhausting journey, which they were sure they would feel the next day.