I thought I was beyond trusting the hen not to peck. For god's sake, it had a beak. People were no different — always did the most predictable and self-serving thing. I supposed it was not a person that broke their word this time, but a Fae. The sun rose and set beyond the horizon, but Earithia never arrived.

I paced back and forth for the hundredth time in my silk-woven green dress. The marble floor of my private tea room never looked as polished as when the expensive fabric dragged over the shiny surface.

It was a quaint little room. At the center sat masterfully crafted wooden chairs and a tea table engraved with beautiful patterns of silver and gold. To the right was a set of aqua chaise lounge sofas with their own table. Because one needed so many different places within the same room to drink tea.

Useless things cluttered the space within these beige walls, except the one thing I actually wanted. The one person I needed.

"Blessed Queen?" A blast of asparagus assaulted my nose. Exia stood hunched over by the closed doors, draped in dull, brown monk robes.

"What was that?" I asked.

"If I may be so bold, Queen Zurilya, you seem to be distracted. It is of utmost importance that the celebration of the breaking of the celestial sky proceeds without any mishaps. One never knows which blessing the gods may bestow upon us." Greed shone in Exia's dull eyes.

Perhaps Emillion was right; the old man, who was two feet away from falling into a grave, was hoping for everlasting life.

He did not understand what he wished for. Fool. Three-haired fool.

But even a fool has its uses.

I collapsed on the lounge sofa and sighed loudly with desperation. "You know, perhaps I should not attend the celebration. I have nothing new to wear to it." A ridiculous notion, I knew, but he thought me a dim-witted queen, so it was an easy role to play.

"You must!" he screamed. His head snapped down, and he stepped back as he remembered who he was addressing — greedy fool. "Pardon my tone, but it is essential that you attend. You must only say what you need, my Blessed Queen, and we will procure it. Shall we call the best seamstress in the kingdom?" Desperation dripped through his rotting brown teeth.

"It is nothing against the kingdom. I just grow bored of these gowns." It was not a lie. The corsets were so dreadful. If mother nature wanted womankind to have such tiny waists, she would not have blessed us with such stubborn ribcages.

My head dropped back against the couch arm dramatically. "I saw a new seamstress, and her foreign dresses are such a delight" — I sighed — "but she shows no interest in catering to me. A shame indeed."

"What is her name? We will make sure to find her, my queen."

"Earithia."

"Ouch!" I complained for the tenth time as a needle broke through the surface of my skin. Not enough to cause internal damage, but enough to show the Fae's displeasure. "You could be more careful, you know."

The air heated as Earithia cursed at me from behind. If it were not for the crisp afternoon air flowing in from the wide windows, I might have begun to sweat like a pig's ass.

The tea room had been transformed into a tailor's paradise. A dressing platform replaced one of the sofas, and fabrics of all kinds and pigment lay thrown over every piece of furniture. It was like a unicorn ejaculated a rainbow all over the room.

Earithia grumbled as she wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her plain brown dress. "If you stopped moving around, I wouldn't have to be as careful. Besides, you deserve a stab or two after what you did."

She unpinned another pointy needle from her pincushion and jammed it roughly into the red fabric. I guess there was no better color to hide all the bloodstains. Just some unrequested therapeutic acupuncture.

"You didn't come. What else could I do?" She forced my hand. It was she who broke her promise to return.

"I don't know, Your Majesty." The title sounded like an insult as it rolled off her tongue. "How about not sending religious fanatics after me? They almost burned down my cottage and took everything I have of value. 'To be returned when you have fulfilled the queen's wishes.' Fucking pricks," she cursed.

'Fucking pricks' was right. "How else am I to keep you around?"

"Keep me? I am not an object, Your Majesty." Another needle grazed my back. "You could have respected my wishes and let me be."

My chest tightened, and my mouth opened, but no words came to my defense. Instead, I hid behind a smile and soft-spoken words. "Were you a seamstress in your land?"

"No. My mother was. She schooled me in her trade, even though I insisted I wanted nothing to do with it." Her fingers traced the red silk gently this time as she pinned it around my waist. Her eyes lingered on the fabric as she spoke. "Life has a way of twisting things around."

"Is she why you want to get back home?" I asked.

"No, she died long ago. There's not much for me there."

My own mother's face flashed across my mind. My mother spent her last days shunning me, asking what I had done to her child. 'Zurilya should be 40 years old now. You can't be my daughter. Get away from me, demon.' Her elderly voice trembled in fear as she threw the worst of words at me. I hated this gift — curse really — of everlasting life with every fiber of my being for all the pain it had caused.

"Don't cry. You will stain the silk," Earithia grumbled, but there was no bite in her tone. My eyes fluttered as a soft tissue pressed against my cheek, drying the stream of liquid salt.

"And the blood from all the stabs won't stain it?"

She smirked. "The blood will blend well into the dress."

We chuckled.

The spindles of time stopped spinning while I sat there... lost in time.

Earithia cleared her throat and asked, "What memories are pulling at you from the past?"

"Thoughts of my mother."

"Was she as insufferable as you?" Her tone lowered in jest. "I see why you cry."

"No, quite the opposite. Never had a bad bone in her and always spewed the kindest words. But even time broke such a gentle soul as she fell with a sickness of the mind."

"Humans and time do not mix."

"I suppose." I straightened my back. "So, if you have no one in the Fae world. Why are you so eager to return?"

"I travel from kingdom to kingdom, never lingering for more than a couple of years. If I did, it wouldn't be long before I would be discovered. I just..."

"... want to not feel alone." I finished for her, for myself.

"I suppose."

"I sometimes think about leaving the castle. That perhaps, I should just distance myself from my dear husband. But then, what if I am still alive another 500 years from now, 1000 years from now, and everyone I know today is dead. He would be the only one around..."

Earithia pinned more of the dress. This time, her hands moved slower and more precisely. "What a frightening thought."

I was drowning in a sea of ink when a sharp pain shot through my skull, forcing me from my dreams.

"Ouch!"

I rubbed my hand over the bump on my forehead. My eyes focused on the fiery red figure standing not far from me. The gold-plated candles adorning the room added a shine that made Earithia look like fire itself.

"Did you hit me?" I asked in fake outrage, but really, I was just glad to see her.

Her mouth opened wide, the shape of an O, like she was offended I would even ask. "Oh, I would never." She winked, suggesting otherwise. "Now stand so I can fit this dress. Today I am using this rare lotus-blue silk that I have infused with magic. It will keep you warm through any winter storm."

This was the 27th dress she was finishing for me. Earithia was enjoying being able to dabble with the most expensive material the kingdom had to offer. I would even dare to say she enjoyed my company. I definitely enjoyed hers.

"Before you start pocking me with needles to death, I have been digging into old scrolls, and I found something." I dug through the pile of books and scrolls on the tea table, fishing out one the color of dust. "That mark on your hands. I was wondering where I saw it. It's in a scroll about summoning magical creatures. Is that something that can truly be done?"

The smirk fell from her face, replaced with a look as rigid as stone. "It is not so much of a summon as it is a beaconing call. It can be used to communicate across long distances."

"Can you do it?" I inched so close I almost stepped on her toes.

"If you do not want to be fitted, then I will gladly leave for the day."

I stood and began to strip as I talked. "Well, can you? I wonder. If the Fae that granted me this gift is strong enough to cast such a spell, perhaps he could be strong enough to help you home. Conceivably, we can summon him here and ask for his help?"

"We can't. You can only summon a fae if you have something of theirs."

"Would a hairpin do?" I asked as I rushed across the room in nothing but my bloomers and scrambled for the hairpin I kept safely locked away all these years. A silver sword pierced through a half-moon as stars dangled around it. It was an elegant jewel. "He dropped it when he left all those years ago."

I rushed back, ready to give the pin to her, but she just stepped back. "No."

"Why not? Didn't you come here to search for a fae that could help you return home? This could be a way for both of us to get what we want."

"You have no idea who you would be summoning, and why would he even want to help us? The fae world is filled with many different creatures, and some cut you down just for a laugh. I have no desire to die."

"Still, we must try, when the alternative is this existence!"

"No," Earithia whispered once more. A tiny flicker of hope burned in her eyes, but it was soon extinguished. "If you wish to keep talking about this reckless plan, I will leave. Send the clergy after me again if you must." She grabbed the blue silk and began to turn.

"No. Wait!"

She turned, pausing for my following words, but I had nothing else to say. So instead, I stood on the small platform and waited for her to begin.

Earithia walked with a pile of smooth, silver fabrics in her hands. She waited by the usual spot for me to rise from the table cluttered with flowers, tea, and sweets.

"Well, are you not going to get up? I am eager to finish this dress. You will look stunning in this color." Her copper eyes sparkled like a kid ready to dress her new hay doll.

"Should we drop the charades just for today?" I asked as my finger slid against the smooth edge of the cup.

She walked to the edge of the table and scoffed, "What is wrong with you?"

"I have given up on trying to gain your help."

"Took you long enough." Her red lips twisted into a smirk as if she expected me to laugh along with her. But I was too tired to find the humor in her words.

"You don't have to return after today. I have told the monks I am more than happy with your work. Once you leave, a guard will return all your belongings." I took the teapot in my hand and filled another cup. "Would you like some tea?"

She looked confused by my offer but sat down anyway. Silence overtook the room as we both sipped the jasmine-scented tea quietly. A dark cloud loomed over the brightly lit room as I contemplated her imminent departure. "Earithia?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever find yourself wishing for some company, I would certainly enjoy your banter. I just can't stand feeling..." Tears started flowing down my cheeks and into my cup.

Plop.

"... feeling this alone anymore."

Plop.

My tears mixed with the sweet tea as I began to sob.

A soft hand brushed my cheek, wiping away my tears. My gaze rose, and Earithia's usually firm composure seemed to falter as her eyes searched my face. There was no judgment in her red-brown eyes, only deep understanding.

"Zurilya, Love!" A mocking voice sang into the room as the golden door snapped open.

I rubbed my temple in anticipation of the oncoming headache. "Not now, Emillion."

"My my, what is this? Aren't you the seamstress?"

"Your Majesty." Earithia bowed courteously.

Emillion strutted across the marble floor, a broad, scheming smile on his handsome face. He took Earithia's hand, bringing it to his lips. "I have been wondering where you went. Has the queen been hiding you?" His lips lingered suggestively at the tips of her fingers. "I think we should finish where we left off."

Earithia's jaw tensed as she stared into Emillion's blue eyes. She nodded her head before pulling her hand from his hold. "Since you have so graciously come, perhaps you can take note of your WIFE's current state."

Emillion glanced at me, uninterested. "What? These crocodile tears?"

He combed his long fingers through his golden hair as he walked behind my chair. His fingers slid against my cheek and my skin crawled like a cockroach walked on every pore. Before I could turn away, his fingers grasped my chin tightly and held my gaze in Earithia's direction. "Don't fall for them."

"Let me go...." My throat dried, making it hard to speak.

"Be careful not to fall for her innocent look. She is a wolf in sheep's clothing, and she will bite your hand off the best chance she gets."

"I said, let go!" I ripped his hands from my face. I snapped straight up, and my hand grasped the simmering teapot. My hand shook against the hold of the magic's binding power. "Get out of my face," I growled.

My lungs burned with rage, making my breath sharp. And that bastard. That fucking bastard smiled. He turned to Earithia. "You should come find me when you tire of her. I promise you, I am much more fun."

He turned and walked to the door, a jolly hop to his step.

My wrist hurt as I tried to defy the spell and swing the porcelain teapot against his back. I would do it. I would break this fucking curse with pure will if I had to. I bit my tongue as every muscle in my body snapped tight, unable to move. Fucking move!

The door closed, and finally, my arm slingshotted, sending the pot of tea crashing into the grand doors. The porcelain shattered into a thousand parts just like I was. Falling apart piece by piece.

My ribs constricted around my lungs, pushing the air out of me. I gasped for air, and although air entered my lungs and left, I was slowly suffocating. I stumbled across the room, my vision fogging as I wheezed. The red, blue, green, and silver fabrics scattered around the room merged into a disorienting mirage. My fingers trembled as I unclasped the handle holding the large windows shut.

The violent air came like a saving grace to my desperate lungs. The flat, hard wall filled me with comfort as I slid down against the surface. My eyes closed. Just breathe. Breathe.

"Zurilya, are you okay?" Earithia's voice threaded near.

My eyes opened, and the world refocused. "I am fine. Just go." I curled my knees into my chest and whispered, this time to myself, "I'll be fine."

I burrowed my face into my knees to stop myself from begging her to stay.

"There is one thing we could try," Earithia whispered somewhat defeatedly.

"Excuse me?"

"On the breaking of the celestial sky, when the lines between our worlds blur, my power is at its peak. Perhaps, I could be strong enough to summon and force the Fae to help."

"Really?" My eyes almost popped out of my socket.

Her hands grasped my arms. "But you must promise, if it becomes too dangerous, we must call off the plan. I can try, and maybe we can both get what we hope for." Her eyes softened, and a gentle smile graced her face. "Even if we fail, I will have gained a friend. I, too, am tired of being alone."

"I promise." I held my arm over my breast as I swore those words.

"Then listen carefully. This is what we must do."

----.----

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