The Gable Forest

Jeanine stood in the shadows, peering through an overgrowth of lush foliage. Utterly bewitched. The forest's growth gave way to a small clearing, carpeted by a meadow.

She didn't blink. Not once.

A black unicorn, possibly the rarest creature of all, grazed on a patch of grass. She'd seen plenty of white unicorns, but never one like this. With its coat black as midnight. And its horn shimmering with an iridescent sheen.

She watched, afraid to so much as breathe. It was the second time she'd encountered it. The first, it bolted before she got more than a glimpse.

"If you stare long enough, he might humor you out of boredom." She jumped, cursing under her breath.

The unicorn pricked its ears, lifting its head in her direction. She didn't move—didn't breathe. After a few long moments, it returned to its grazing.

"Are you mad?" She rounded on Prince Feowen, cloaked in shadow behind her. "What are you doing?!"

Two days. He'd been absent for two days. And he chose now, of all times, to make an appearance.

"Trying to help, obviously."

"You? Help?" She narrowed her eyes before turning back to the clearing. "If by help you mean to scare it away, then sure, you're helping a lot."

"Just watch." He stepped forward, wicked grin blazing, and parted the foliage before him.

As he stepped out, the head of the unicorn swung in his direction, but it did not bolt. She cursed him under her breath. He held out his hand, his movements slow and deliberate. "Gehtalla...gehtalla..." The unicorn's ears pricked up. "Taventah vah'lia. Gehtalla...gehtalla..."

She watched, unblinking. It lifted its head higher and acknowledged him with a loud snort, like a horse. But it did not move away.

Feowen glanced in her direction, expression triumphant, eyes aglow. The unicorn sniffed his fingers with mild interest before lowering its head to graze once more. He brushed his fingers over the creature's neck, moving cautiously before petting it with both hands.

A smile came unbidden to her lips. Was it truly that easy? It shouldn't have surprised her. Feowen was good at nearly everything. Why not this?

He continued to stroke the creature. "I believe he will let you pet him now." His voice was a low murmur. The unicorn merely shifted to enjoy a new swath of grass. "He already knows you are hiding. Come here."

She pushed the foliage aside and stepped into the clearing. It was done less gracefully than the prince, with a good deal more noise. The unicorn had already gone back to its snacking, but its left ear swiveled in her direction. She crept over.

"Here—" Without invitation, Feowen grabbed her hand and held it forward. "Let him sniff you first."

His hand was warm against hers. She dared not move. The unicorn lifted its head and sniffed her fingers before turning its attention to her palm. She giggled, the sound slipping from her lips before she could stop it. The whiskers and hairs around its mouth tickled.

"There. See?" Greeting finished, Feowen guided her hand to its coat, inviting her to copy him. He began along its neck, stroking the unicorn's hide with slow, languid movements.

She did the same and gasped. "He's softer than a horse!" The unicorn's sleek coat was more velvety than anything she had ever touched. Like an expensive fabric from her childhood days, back when she and her mother lived in Lincastle. That felt like an age ago—a dream more than a memory.

"Does he have a name?" she whispered.

"We may never know what he calls himself, nor what other unicorns call him. But to us, he is known as Tourmaline."

"Tourmaline," she whispered, keeping her voice gentle.

Tourmaline lifted his head and nudged her, as if recognizing the sound of his own name. Then he gave them a snicker of farewell and plodded away, disappearing into the underbrush, leaving them alone in the forest. She blinked after him.

There and gone.

She exhaled, as if she could breathe again. "So...Tourmaline. As in black tourmaline gemstones?"

Feowen smiled. "Exactly. Do not ask me who came up with it."

"Who says I was going to ask?" She lifted an eyebrow.

"Insightful guess? I'm quite certain you were about to ask."

"You think you've figured me out, Prince Feowen. I assure you, that is not the case."

"Yet—" A mischievous grin spread across his face. "Not the case yet. I am determined to make it so."

There was truth to his words. He had made it obvious from the start that he was determined to make sense of her. To figure her out.

Shortly after arriving in Esterpine, she had caught him spying on her. It wasn't until he offered to train her that she discovered there were no boundaries to his probing questions. He had asked about everything from what her home life had been like in Kaljah, to her aspirations, to questions about human culture, traditions, and beliefs. Humans intrigued and even baffled him.

Yet, she got a deeper sense that she alone confused him above all else.

"Well," she said, "you won't understand me better if you avoid me. It's been two days. Where have you been?"

"I knew you would ask that too," he said. "So, I have come up with a well-rehearsed explanation."

"Oh? The truth? Or something you made up?" She took a seat in the grass, pulling a few blades to twirl around her fingers. Sunlight was difficult to come by here. She cherished it on the rare occasions when she found it.

"You doubt my truthfulness?" He came to crouch before her, his face intent on hers. "We Sprites do not lie, remember?"

"Yes, you ooze honesty by speaking in riddles. Half the time I can't make sense of what you're saying. I suppose you aren't so bad, but your sister..."

Princess Taylynn was notoriously cryptic. It was said she was a great Sprite prophetess, speaking to the trees, learning of many things before they happened. Maybe that explained it.

She and Taylynn had only interacted a handful of times, and each left her more confused than the last.

"Well, I shall be plain then," Feowen said. "Even if I was sworn to secrecy."

Usually there were weapons between them, and a sparring ring. Sitting this close, with his full attention upon her, was...a bit much. She could make out the tiny details of his eyes—flecks like glitter within the depths of them. His long lashes. The arching shape of his eyebrows, not a blue hair out of place. His lips. The smoothness of his skin.

She looked down at the grass in her fingers to avoid him. "If it's secrecy you seek—you'd best not tell me."

"Circumstances change. In this case, you have become involved, so there is no more hiding it."

She looked up then, eyebrows drawn. "You realize you're not making any sense...right?"

He grinned. "Then I will be even plainer. Dragonwall's king has come to Esterpine."

The sounds around her grew louder. Or perhaps she was suddenly more aware of them as they filled the silence. Dragonwall's king? Here? Was this a joke? Was he toying with her?

"We had hoped to hide his coming. My mother implemented a number of measures. She wanted to be discreet until negotiations were well underway. That did not...well...it is hardly important. He wishes to meet you, so we can hide it no longer."

"What?" She all but choked. "Wait—you're serious? And just to make sure I understand you correctly, by Dragonwall's king, you mean King Talon the Black?"

"I should have thought it obvious."

"I... There must be some mistake." She couldn't think properly.

"No mistake. He is here."

A rough laugh fell from her lips. "So, I guess Tourmaline is no longer the rarest creature in the forest?"

Feowen's eyebrows drew together. Then a smile split his lips and he laughed. The sound sent warm shivers through her. Birds around them erupted into song. She simply stared, studying the way his face lit up, the dimples in his cheeks, his frustratingly perfect teeth. There were times he seemed human, and then there were times like this...

"Rare. King Talon. Yes. I suppose so. So when you meet him, do not lurk in the shadows as you did with Tourmaline. Hmm?"

"Meet him? You...you were being serious?" Her heart pounded. "But...why would he want to meet me? I'm just...just..."

"Is it not obvious?"

"Why would it be? I'm no one. I have no rank, no titles. I cannot possibly think of a reason."

He snorted. "Humans..."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" She jumped to her feet, glancing about, trying to make sense of things. To make sense of this moment. The king—here!

Feowen stood up after her. "It means...Oh, never mind! I would hate to deprive you of the opportunity to figure it out. Now come. We cannot keep him waiting."

Her jaw dropped, all sense of modesty abandoned. "Like...like right now? Why didn't you say so before?! And...you're not going to tell me why he wants to meet me?"

He merely smirked and slipped into the forest.

"This isn't a game, Feowen!" She glared in his direction. When he didn't answer, she was forced to follow after him.

It took them nearly twenty minutes to reach Esterpine. During that time, Feowen updated her on everything that had happened with King Talon's visit. The king and a party of Drengr were escorted to Esterpine. They had entered the city in the dead of night. Their party was given lodging in the Crystal Palace with the queen. This was all done in an effort to keep them out of sight. Even still, the rumor had apparently circulated the city.

"Why I didn't hear about it?" she asked.

"Probably because you spend more and more time exploring the forest outside."

The king was here for negotiations with Queen Jade. The state of Dragonwall's affairs were in disarray. Gobelins weren't the only threat to the kingdom, as she was just now learning. There were rumors of pirate attacks along the coasts, and even wild dragons in the north.

Much of this came as a shock. "You really think wild dragons have returned?"

"You villagers don't get out much, do you?"

"As if you Sprites are any better!" He grinned at this. She chewed on the skin of her bottom lip, thinking. "How long will the king be here?"

"Perhaps another five days or longer, if need be. So far, everything has gone smoothly. Our negotiations are nearly complete, aside from the finer details. Petty things, really."

"So, the Sprites will help Dragonwall in whatever war comes?"

Feowen's next words were measured. "King Talon has our support, but not in the way others would expect."

They reached the Crystal Palace and she stood frozen before the steps, suddenly horrified with herself. "I cannot meet Dragonwall's king looking like...like this. Look at me!"

"Why not?" Feowen looked her up and down.

Her jaw dropped. "Have you no sense of propriety? Look at what I'm wearing."

King Talon was...well...a king. He was used to fine women who pranced around his castle in beautiful gowns. She knew enough about court life in Lincastle to know that.

Here she wore a pair of trousers, a long tunic, and her father's sword strapped to her belt. Everything was worn and dirtied from hours of tromping through the forest. She probably had dirt on her face and in her hair too.

Feowen shrugged. "I imagine the king has more important concerns than your attire." He snapped his fingers and stepped forward. "Come along."

There was no getting out of it, poor appearance or not. The time had come to do something she never would have imagined doing. Not even in her wildest dreams. It was time to meet Dragonwall's king.

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