The following day, I wake early to visit Ezra in the recovery wing. For a moment, I hesitate at the door. What if he has not recovered enough? What if he has recovered, but he saw something about what I am? Can I ever trust him?

The door opens ahead of me and steals my moment of uncertainty, "My Queen." Violet drops into a low curtsy.

"Good morning Violet, how are you?" I reply, gesturing for her to rise.

"I am well, your majesty. I don't suppose you came to exchange pleasantries with me. It will please you to know your Prince is awake." She smiles.

"He's not my anything!" I let out a small embarrassed laugh. "As delighted as I am by your company, I must confess you are right about an ulterior motive. I have to spend time with each of the finalists today, so I thought I would start with our patient first."

She chuckles and encourages me through the door, "He is much recovered thanks to a little magic."

The look she gives is significant. Without the Undoing, he might not still be here. For perhaps the first time since I discovered my gift, I am grateful for it. It doesn't have to be the curse it initially seemed.

"I am glad to hear that. Could I ask one favour of you?"

"Anything, your highness."

"The books and diaries you mentioned?" I swallow hard as I think of my Mother, "Would you have them sent to my room at some point today?"

If she hears the shake in my voice, she doesn't react to it. "Absolutely, your highness."

"Did I hear you say I was your first choice?" A voice asks from the bed nearest the window, dragging my mind from the memories.

"Back to your normal annoying self. I see Prince Ezra." I say with an eye roll as I turn to face him.

"I prefer charming or enigmatic thank you, princess." Ezra chuckles, swinging his legs over the side and getting up slowly.

"And I prefer to only be called by my proper title of Queen, but here we are."

Violet snorts a laugh and tries to hide it with a cough as she tidies an already organised shelf to busy her hands.

"Do you mind if I borrow him?" I ask her.

Violet's eyebrows shoot up, disappearing under her unruly curls. "Absolutely not. I should be glad to be rid of him truly. No offence Prince Ezra."

She shoots the last bit over her shoulder and Ezra claps his hands to his chest, falling dramatically against the wall, "Oh you wound me, Violet. Thank goodness you're a healer."

Violet bites back a smile and shakes her head. "I don't believe your Prince knows the meaning of peace."

"I do, I just know that they're not something I enjoy." Ezra joins us by the door, "So where are you taking me, princess?"

I take a deep breath to stop myself from snapping at him. "I must spend time with each of the last champions and I thought I would speak with you first."

"I knew I was your first choice." Ezra laughs, darting forward to press a kiss to the tip of my nose, before dancing out of reach before I can react.

"Are you ever serious?" I groan, waving to Violet as we make our way out into the corridor.

"You know I can be, but a near death experience does wonders for the mood and I doubt I will be serious again for quite some time."

I try to hide my smile. "I've had breakfast set up on the terrace if you'll follow me."

He offers his arm to me dramatically, and I take it. Somehow it feels right. His skin is cool against my own and I feel my cheeks flush.

"You look beautiful today." He blurts out.

I nearly trip over my own feet, eyes shooting to his face in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"What? Am I not allowed to say nice things?" He teases.

"You are. I just am not used to you directing them at me."

He frowns. "You know I think you are beautiful though? I always have done."

Alessia clears her throat behind us and I jolt. Yet again, I had half forgotten she was even there. I shoot her an apologetic look and she rolls her eyes.

"Always." I hum.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

My mind drifts back to the day he left. I remember his blank expression as I begged him not to leave. I remember the back of his head. He never looked round, even when I called out to him.

We've reached the terrace now and I un-link arms to take a seat. Watching as he takes the one opposite and we both begin eating in silence.

"I see Alessia is giving us some privacy." Ezra comments, nodding his head towards the doors.

I glance round to see her waiting just inside. "She knows the only thing I am in any danger of breaking around you is my heart."

"I would never break your heart." He vows.

"You already did when you left." I snap.

"Oh, so we are back to this again are we?" He huffs and stuffs a large pastry in his mouth, turning to look out over the gardens.

If I wasn't so annoyed, I probably would have found the action hilarious. "It's not something easy to forget. I begged you to stay. I've never begged for anything in my life."

He rolls his eyes, "Of course you haven't, princess, because you've never had to fight for anything. It has all been given to you!"

My hand curls into a fist around my fork, fingernails digging into my palm as I struggle to keep my temper. "Never had to fight for anything? You weren't even there that day on the battlefield. You don't have a clue whether I fought."

"Not all fights are physical, darling."

I take a deep breath before I speak. "I don't doubt that my position has given me extraordinary privileges in my life, but don't you dare think for one moment I've never had to fight for something. You don't know me the way you think you do. When you left, and you can pretend you had no choice if you like, but everyone has a choice and you chose what you did."

His hand on the table flexes as I realise he's struggling with his temper as much as I am. Perhaps this is a sign of how incompatible we are? If we cannot even enjoy a simple breakfast without fighting.

"Don't you know how much I wanted to stay?" Ezra whispers.

"Then why didn't you even look back at me?"

He stands suddenly and rounds the table, dropping to his knees so our eyes are level, "Because I knew if I looked back and saw your face that there wasn't a Dearg Dues chance in Alfheimr that I could leave you."

I blink, "You can't say things like that."

"Things like what? The truth. I'm sorry princess, if it's hard to hear. Perhaps I don't know you as well as I should now. Perhaps I have made a huge mistake. All I know is that when I look at you, I'm home. When I look at you, the demons in my head are quiet and nothing else matters. I don't know how, I don't even know why, but something in my cold little heart tells me I can't live without you and you without me." He stands and pulls me to my feet so that I am looking up at him. "I know you had something to do with my recovery from my injuries." His hand caresses my cheek and his eyes search my own for answers I cannot give. "Whatever the truth, princess, I thank you."

I let out a choked noise. Somehow he is closer to the truth that he realises, closer to understanding me than I thought possible.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

He gives me plenty of time to push him away or stop him, but I don't. I can't. His lips press to mind and the world falls away. There is nothing but him and me. Just our fire and darkness, merging in the morning.

His kiss is gentle, coaxing almost, and I'm kissing him back before I can think about whether it's the right thing to do.

When we finally break apart, I meet his eyes and see the pain. "Why did you leave?" I ask quietly.

"My Father ordered it. I was not fulfilling my role here correctly, in his opinion."

I take a step back. "What was your role supposed to be?"

He hesitates before he speaks again. "To befriend the future monarch."

"Ayden?" I whisper.

He can't meet my eye or speak and I already know the answer.

"Is that why he sent your brother?"

"I believe so."

I take a minute to process that news. "Thank you for joining me for breakfast, Prince Ezra, but I must be on my way now."

"That's it?" His broken voice makes my step falter as I head back inside.

"For now. I just need time. To think. To process."

"Fine." He sighs, "But you should know, every moment I spent with you then I was choosing to against my family's wishes. I chose you then and I will choose you now. I will always choose you."

My mind is reeling as I hurry away. I don't look back, but I know he is watching me and suddenly I understand why he couldn't look back that day.

If I looked back now, rightly or wrongly, I wouldn't be able to leave him.

"Are you alright?" Alessia asks softly as she falls into step beside me on the way to my room.

I give her a smile which I hope is reassuring. "I will be fine."

"Do you need me to have a word with him?"

Her hand goes to the hilt of her sword and I laugh. "I didn't save his life for you to take it."

"I never said I'd kill him. A little mild threat and stabbing killed no one." She mutters.

Her expression is so serious I end up doubling over, laughing. When I finally straighten and wipe the tear from my eye, Alessia looks amused. "Thank you, but there is no stabbing necessary."

She gives me a small, suit yourself shrug and pushes open the door to my chambers.

On the bed is a stack of leather bound journals and books with a note:

𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

𝒱𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓉

A shiver of foreboding travels down my spine. Who could have need of my mother's words? I hope there's nothing incriminating within them and I dread to think what will happen if there is and they fall into the wrong hands.

"Will you help me?" I ask Alessia.

"Always."

The word is a promise more than anything else and we begin to sift through the pile, occasionally reading passages aloud.

There's one I read which was written six years before I was even born.

I have been looking into my history and heritage, and I am afraid. The power growing inside of me is like nothing anyone else knows or describes. Ever since the day I fell from my horse and healed myself, I have believed it to be a healing gift. Although, speaking with my dear friend who is a healer herself has given me doubts.

Our magic is so different. Her gifts tries to nurture and encourage the body to heal itself. Mine drags, forces and pulls everything back to what it once was. I found mention in an old text of a gift called Undoing and I believe that is what mine is. The Undoing is supposed to be a dark gift though. One that was found in the hearts of dark fae and drove them mad. I can already feel the madness whispering in the corner of my mind.

According to my lineage, I am a light fae lady through and through. Somewhere in the past, there must have been a lie. Somewhere in the past, the Undoing slipped through our bloodline and found me.

"I think I've found something." Alessia says quietly and I look up from my notebook.

"What is it?"

"From your Mother's diaries just after she met your Father. There's a passage here. I think you should read it yourself."

I reach over the stack and accept the red leather-bound notebook, open on the page she suggested.

The madness has been coming for me. I have been losing time and waking in unfamiliar places. I don't think it is wrong for me to admit that it frightens me.

It doesn't frighten Prince Rory, no matter how much I try to push him away, something draws us together and I think I know why. The book I have discovered speaks of an Undoing weaver who lived far beyond the usual life expectancy.

She discovered something about true mates and what they mean for those with our gift after finding her own. Once they confirmed their mating bond, she felt the Undoing calm. The light of their love, their bond, burned away the darkness she had felt stalking her. There are other cases, she discovered, all unconfirmed. They give me hope.

I am starting to believe that Rory might be my true mate. We drive each other to distraction, but there's no other that makes me feel as he does. No other light fae I could imagine as my guide to keep my sanity. I need to tell him what I am and what I can do. I just hope that he will feel the same way I do.

How could this be about Ezra? How could a dark fae with all that comes with who they are be the light I need to guide me?

I press the heels of my palms to my eyes to stave off the headache I can feel brewing. I have to choose the right person or the madness with rip me apart.

Oh, how I wished my Mother was here so I could ask her what to do.