As soon as I am finished and move to stand, I feel eyes on me and the conversation in the room falls to whispers. As tempting as it is to drop my gaze to the ground and attempt to blend into the background as my natural wallflower instincts suggest, I tilt my chin up as march down the central walkway.

I have almost made my escape when two figures step out to block my path. Alessia is at my side in an instant, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword in warning.

"Oh, call off your little guard dog," the older of the men chuckles, displaying a row of unnaturally sharp teeth.

"Father." the younger one warns, his eyes flickering to mine and apparently noting the annoyance reflected there.

"My lords? Was there something I could assist you with?" my tone is icy and my smile tight with anger at the way he addressed Alessia.

Lord Donal of Ganrule and his son Liam are both dark fae who did not answer our call for aid in battle, but they were, of course, more than happy to attend my brother's funeral. Since then, they have lingered like an unpleasant smell as they waited for the Council's decision.

"Your highness, let me first pass on our regrets at your brother's passing. We were most sorrowful to hear of the news." Lord Donal says, reaching to pat my arm, his face a poor imitation of concern.

Yes, the gleam of greed in his eye really conveys that sorrow he claims he is feeling. "Thank you, my lord. He was a good man." I reply automatically.

He waves a dismissive hand, "Yes, well, I am most pleased to hear of the Croí Éadrom Games. It has been so long since I witnessed one," his tone is almost joyful, which seems to at odds with my mood, and his earlier claim of sadness for my brother.

Could it be that he has not witnessed one for so long because they are a horribly outdated way to torture a fae and force them into a handfasting, not really of their choice? I curve my lips into something which I hope resembles a smile and let out a small, interested humming noise.

"I would like to be the first to present a champion willing to fight for your hand." Donal says proudly, propelling his son forward so quickly that he stumbles.

Liam recovers, shooting his father another look before he bows deeply and looks up at me with brilliant blue eyes, "Lord Liam of Ganrule, your highness." 

His voice is pleasantly smooth and his manner acceptable, but that does not change the scheming man at his side or the slightly bored expression he attempts to hide.

He is no more interested in me than I am in a passing stranger.

"How nice-" I begin.

"-I am afraid you are second to offer yourself to our lovely Queen." Owen appears with a smile that is oddly territorial and at odds with his usual sweetness, "I already promised myself in the games to her."

"How?" Lord Donal splutters, his sallow face turning red with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

"Lord Owen was kind enough to walk me to breakfast this morning." I explain calmly, "Now if you'll excuse me, I am needed elsewhere."

Before anyone else can protest or block my path, I march from the room. I don't know where I am heading, only that I need to get away from everyone before my anxiety awaken my power. 

I have tried my best to avoid stressful situations until I have a better handle on things, but it has not been easy with everything I am being forced to manage. 

Someone falls into step alongside me and I don't have to look up to know it is Ezra. "How are you enjoying the attention little Elle?" he asks and I know he is grinning at me, but refuse to turn my head to look.

"It's Elora." I bite back through gritted teeth. 

It has been a long time since anyone called me Elle. The only people who ever had were my parents and Ezra, back when we had been friends. That was before he left me and before they died, so now the name is forever tainted by loss.

"I'm sorry my love, do you prefer Lori now?" he chuckles, but there is an undercurrent of annoyance to his tone. 

Of course, he was listening to my conversation with Owen. I stop and spin to face him in a whirl of skirts and fury. "Only my friends call me Lori." I reply, putting particular emphasis on the word, "You can call me Queen Elora or Your Highness. I am not 'your love', I have never been your love and I will never give you my love." 

I am trembling with anger, and my chest is rising and falling quickly with my breaths. Ezra looks unbothered by my outrage, but his eyes flash a brighter gold when they drop to my cleavage. "There was a time when you want to be my love though, wasn't there Elora?" he asks softly, taking a step closer to me and forcing my head to tilt back to keep him in my sights.

"The foolish thoughts of a child." I snap, my hands are trembling with barely restrained emotion and I tuck them into my skirts to hide them from his view.

"Perhaps," he reaches out a hand to touch my cheek but is blocked by a wall of shining steel.

"Do not touch my Queen unless she asks you to." Alessia warns in her typical quiet yet dangerous tone.

"Unless she asks?" Ezra laughs as his hand drops back to his side, "Oh I love a challenge. Perhaps I will even make you beg me to touch you?"

Heat pools inside me at his words and I tell myself it is anger, but the magic inside of me lets out a contented purr. I frown. It has never done that before, and I don't have time to question the reaction. 

"I am a Queen and you will treat me with respect." I reply primly and I am pleased that my voice sounds steadier than I feel.

"My apologies, my Queen." he smiles, not even slightly apologetic,"I just wanted to inform you I will also fight for your hand."

I cannot put into words the emotions rushing through me as I fight to keep my composure. 

He watches me for a moment, eyes searching my own for something. Whatever it is, he does not find it because he looks disappointed. "Perhaps," He says softly, "We can find those foolish thoughts of yours again together."

I am still processing his words as he turns on his heel and stalks back towards the hall. A part of me considers calling out to him it will never happen, but I don't want to draw his attention back this way when my heart is already beating fast enough to put wild horses' galloping hooves to shame.

"My Queen?" Alessia's soft enquiry draws me back to the present.

"I'm fine. Thank you Sia." I shoot her a grateful smile and then take a calming breath before continuing up the hall slowly. 

Before I know it my feet have carried me down the corridors and I find myself at a crossroads. 

I could return to my room and breakdown in the safety of my chambers. Perhaps rage about the unfairness of the situation I find myself trapped in. Or I could head for the spiral staircase which leads to the library. The library where I first met Owen and had since whiled away many afternoons in its comfortable embrace. 

My power shifts inside of me and it feels a little like being knocked off balance or perhaps even falling. I remember the day I slipped from the wall of one of the garden as I tried to follow Ayden. His earth magic allowed him to call the vines to secure his steps and move with a confidence I could only dream of. I had scrambled up after him, calling for the magic with my mind, but as it always had, it remained silent and my calls went unanswered. I had tumbled from the wall after just two paces and landed in the kitchen garden with a sickening thud. 

That sensation in my gut as I dropped felt much the same as this. I wish I could ask it what was wrong. As though it is a thinking, feeling being I can communicate with. At the moment, I have no more way to speak to it than I do my steed. 

The library it is. I climb the stairs slowly until I reach the circular room with bookshelves covering every wall, higher than I can reach and split by still more shelves to section off areas. I pause and breathe in the musty, earthy smell that is so familiar to me. Aside from the usual creaks of the castle, it is quiet here and we are just high enough above the rest of the rooms that I can enjoy the peace. Alessia steps off the stairs behind me and, after confirming the room is empty, takes up watch at the top of them.

I know better than to suggest she relax or perhaps find a book she might like to read. Guarding me comes as naturally as breathing to her, but reading did not. I tried to teach her, but unlike the patience she showed training me; she had little for herself and learning.

In the end, we settled for her choosing books for me to read out loud for us both. She was glad to hear the stories, and I was glad for someone to share them with, so it worked out well. I smile fondly at her back until the remembrance hits and I realise we haven't had a chance to do it since Ayden passed. 

I wasn't sure when we would have that chance again either, and my heart ached at the knowledge. With a sigh, I pull my attention back to the books and make my way along the shelves nearest the back, my hand trailing along the leather spines. 

These are all the books we hold on the dark fae. As my gift is one typically found in their bloodline, I have been forced to seek answers there. It makes sense really. I spent years calling to a magic that never answered me and beyond the simple summoning, glamour and communication spells all fae could use, found I had nothing. My parents reassured me my magic would find me when it was ready, and it had. It was I who had not been ready for it.

My fingers stroke the dark blue books, decorated with twists of silver and white, and I keep moving as I search for where I had left off last time. Then my finger catches on one that is sticking out slightly, and I freeze. The books here are designed to be perfectly aligned. For one to be out of place, it means I have not been the only one researching dark fae magic.

I pull out the book and look at the cover 'Shadow Weaver - A History of Sable Sanity'. For a moment I forget to breathe as I recognise the twisted symbol for undoing embossed into it. This is a book about my gift. A gift thought lost for centuries. 

What reason would anyone have to be searching it? Unless someone else knows what is happening to me?

The book nearly slips through my clammy fingers and I clutch it to my chest with one hand. Using the other to hold myself up. "Are you ok?" The floor creaks as Alessia steps away from her post, apparently sensing something isn't right with me.

Or perhaps she can hear my slightly too fast breathing that sounds impossibly loud in the small space. "I'm fine." I call back, my hand snatching up the nearest book and placing it over the top as I attempt to hide what I am looking at.

Her footsteps stop and I can feel the hesitation before she accepts my words and returns to her post. 

I take a few moments to steady my breathing before making my way to one of the curved window bench seats. I've always loved these because they stick just far enough out of the tower that it feels a little like flying when you look out.

Putting aside the random book I snatched, I refocus on the Shadow Weaver one, propping it up on my knees to open it.

As I do, a small piece of paper flutters out and I catch it before it slips onto the floor. The writing is unfamiliar, but I feel certain the message is intended for me. 

'I see you, Shadow Weaver - I know what you are and what you can do. The Undoing is only the beginning of your power, little one.'