Beauty doesn’t matter. It’s what’s inside that counts. That was what Poppy’s mother whispered as she smoothed her daughter’s plain brown hair. Poppy clung to those words even after her mother died. Even after her father left her behind with only memories and lies. When he returned, he did not come alone. He brought a golden-haired wife and a daughter made of sunlight.
Luna was everything Poppy was not. Lovely, graceful, adored. Even her wolf shimmerred silver as moonlight. Poppies was nothing at all. Her stepmother’s love belonged to Luna. Her father’s pride belonged to Luna. The pack’s praise, the elders promises, the suitor’s flowers. Always, always Luna. And Poppy was left with scraps, a distracted pat on the head, a cold room beneath the eaves, and her mother’s cruel refrain.
Don’t sulk, dear, Cordelia would say whenever her longing for affection became too obvious. Envy is unbecoming, especially in one so plain. Cordelia was masterful in her cruelty. When their father was home, she’d include Poppy with one distracted hand while embracing Luna with both arms. She’d mentioned Poppy’s difficult moods and jealous tendencies with perfect maternal concern.
She’s not like Luna, Cordelia would tell their father when she thought Poppy couldn’t hear. And their father, tired from his travels and dazzled by his new family’s golden beauty, would nod. But Poppy had her mother’s words to sustain her. Beauty doesn’t matter. It’s what’s inside that counts. She threw herself into learning languages, numbers, history.
She read every book she could find, solved every puzzle, sharpened her mind like a blade, and at last someone noticed. A great beta came seeking not Luna’s beauty, but the clever girl. For one shining moment, her mother’s words seemed true. That night, Cordelia brought her warm milk and a smile sweet as poison.
Poppy drank, dreaming of love and worth at last. She should have known better. When she woke the next morning and saw what she had become, she finally understood the truth her mother had been too kind to tell her. Perhaps you didn’t need to be the most beautiful for your inner worth to matter.
But when you became the ugliest creature imaginable, you learned that the exterior would always matter more. And Poppy looked at herself in the cracked mirror above her wash basin and screamed until her throat was raw. Chapter 1. The children had made up songs about Poppy. Red eyes. Red eyes burning bright, stalking through the dead of night.
Hide your face and lock your door, or red eyes will come back for more. Their high, sweet voices carried across the cobblestones, pausing only when their mothers hushed them with nervous glances in Poppy’s direction. Years had passed since she’d first been cursed, and she now kept to the edges of every village she passed through, moving through the markets like a shadow wrapped in a hooded cloak.
Even so, she couldn’t hide entirely, and so parents covered their children’s eyes when she passed, prayed under their breath as if her very presence might contaminate their souls. “Please,” she whispered to the herb seller, keeping her voice low. “Just a loaf of bread for these mushrooms. They’re good ones. Morels hard to find,” >> the woman didn’t look at her directly.
“Keep moving, red eyes,” she muttered. “You’re scaring off my customers.” Poppy glanced around the empty market stall and said nothing. There were no customers to scare off. There never were when she appeared, no matter how briefly. She pulled her hood lower, trying to hide the perceived crime that was now her appearance.
Wolf ears jutted from her skull, covered in coarse brown fur that matched the patches now growing across her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes had turned the burning red of a predator, and when she’d opened her mouth to scream, elongated canines had cut into her own tongue. She was caught between forms, not human, not wolf, but something sick and twisted that belonged to neither world.
Cordelia had laughed when she’d discovered her that morning years ago, her beautiful face bright with malicious joy. Don’t pout, child. That beta needed to see that Luna was his only option. But your curse will break. Her eyes had glittered with false sympathy when a man willingly takes you as his bride. Then she’d dissolved into cackles because they both knew the truth.
No man would ever choose to bind himself to a monster. Even other shifters who should have understood the complexity of dual natures saw her as an abomination. She was diseased in their minds, something that might be contagious. So she’d made her home in the deep woods, traded her knowledge of herbs and roots for the basics she needed to survive, bread, cloth, the occasional bit of meat when she was very lucky.
It wasn’t much of a life, but it was life, and some days that felt like victory enough. Today was not one of those days. She was making her way toward the village outskirts, her meager purchases tucked safely in her satchel, when she heard the commotion near the well. A crowd had gathered around something, their voices tight with anger and fear.
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I tell you, it was her. A woman’s voice rose above the rest. Who else would do such a thing? Red eyes will be the death of us all if we don’t act. Poppy’s blood went cold. She knew that voice. Good wife, Henley, a sharp-faced woman who had been calling for Poppy’s banishment from the village since the day she’d first appeared seeking trade.
Henley’s youngest daughter had been born sickly, and she’d somehow convinced herself that Poppy’s presence was to blame for the child’s weak constitution. “We should have run her off months ago,” Henley continued, her voice growing shriller. Now look what’s happened. Poor Widow Ranley’s chickens.
All of them slaughtered in the night, torn apart like they’d been mauled by some wild beast. Poppy’s stomach dropped. She’d heard nothing about chickens. Had been nowhere near the widow’s farm. But the crowd was already murmuring agreement, fear overriding logic. She started to back away, but it was too late.
Henley’s sharp eyes found her in the crowd, and her face twisted with vindictive satisfaction. “There!” she shrieked, pointing directly at Poppy. There’s Red Eyes herself. The crowd turned as one, and Poppy found herself surrounded by a sea of hostile faces. “I didn’t,” she started, but her words were lost in the angry shouts. Strong hands seized her arms before she could think to run.
The village constable wouldn’t meet her eyes as he bound her wrists with iron shackles. “Sorry, red eyes,” he muttered. “But there’s been a complaint made formal like. have to take you before the Alpha King for judgment. But I didn’t do anything,” she whispered, hating how small her voice sounded. “Please, you know I wouldn’t.
Do I?” He glanced at her face. “Can’t say I know what you might do,” looking like, “Well, like that.” Behind him, good wife Henley smiled with savage satisfaction. “Justice at last,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. The Alpha King will know how to deal with creatures like this one. As they dragged her toward the waiting cart, Poppy caught a glimpse of movement near Widow Ranley’s fence.
Chickens pecking peacefully at the ground around her feet. Alive, unharmed, every single one of them. But by then, it was too late for truth to matter. It always was when you looked like a monster. Chapter 2. The cart to the Alpha King’s castle was crammed with thieves, poachers, and debtors who whispered in their chains.
Poppy shrank into a shadowed corner, her cloak drawn low, listening. “Heard the king grows harsher,” muttered a gap-tothed man. “All on account of his sisters.” “Poor princesses,” sighed a milker. “Fading like they’re drained of life, worn shoes every morning, though they never leave their chambers.” “Magic,” hissed the thief.
What else? Remember the merchant’s son who tried to solve it? Vanished. The hedge wizard, too. People don’t dare anymore. The king offers any reward? The woman whispered. But what good’s a reward if you never return? Poppy’s mind began to race. Six princesses growing weaker each day, people disappearing when they tried to help, and a king desperate enough to promise any reward.
A plan began to form in her mind, desperate and dangerous, and perfectly suited to someone who had nothing left to lose. The castle loomed before them like a mountain of black stone, its towers piercing the sky like accusatory fingers. Poppy’s heart hammered against her ribs as they were herded through iron gates and stone corridors.
They reached the great hall, the hall of starlight, one of the guards called it, and Poppy’s breath caught in her throat. The vast chamber was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by flickering candles that cast dancing shadows on the walls. But at the center of the hall grew something extraordinary. A massive tree with golden bark and leaves that seemed to shimmer with their own inner light.
Its branches stretched nearly to the vated ceiling, and fruit like captured sunlight hung heavy from its boughs. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” the milk seller whispered. “The king’s treasure tree. They say his riches flow from its fruit. He prizes it more than his crown. Reluctantly, Poppy tore her gaze away as the prisoners were arranged before the throne.
“Do you admire my treasure, thief?” The king<unk>s voice cut the air like a blade. “Perhaps you dream of stealing it.” On his dark throne sat a man carved from war, broad-shouldered, scarred, gray, threading his black hair, eyes like a storm at sea. At his feet lay six princesses, pale and worn, as flowers left too long without water.
Poppy forced her voice steady. No thief could carry away such a tree, your majesty. It would take an army. The king<unk>s mouth twitched. And yet you stand accused of slaughtering livestock. Your tongue will not spare you. Tell me your name. They call me red eyes, your majesty, she said, chin-lifting.
And I am no criminal. If words cannot save me, perhaps my actions will. His eyes narrowed. Red eyes? Why so? She ignored him, seizing the moment. I have heard of your sister’s affliction. The hall grew still. The king leaned forward, menace sharpening his voice. Have you now? Then answer me properly. Why do they call you red eyes? What hides beneath that hood? Show yourself.
The command brooked no refusal. With trembling hands, Poppy lowered her hood. Gasps swept the hall. Courters shrank back in horror. A woman screamed. Someone wretched. Only the king remained unmoved. “A curse, then?” “Yes, your majesty,” she straightened. “Which is why I have nothing left to lose. I offer myself to discover what afflicts your sisters.
” “In exchange for freedom and the favor you promised the others,” Poppy replied. His eyes flared. Your freedom should be favor enough. With respect to your majesty, I risk my life. Others vanished attempting this, which is why none dare try now. The hall fell silent except for the crackling of candle flames. The alpha king leaned forward in his throne, and for a moment Poppy thought he might order her execution on the spot.
Very well, he said. 3 days starting tonight. Solve the mystery and you shall have freedom and any favor you desire. fail and I execute you as planned. The golden tree shimmerred faintly, its melancholy tugging at her heart. Around the throne, the princesses watched with eyes like dying stars. I accept, Poppy said, and her voice did not waver. Chapter 3.
Poppy was lodged in a small chamber beside the princess’s rooms, given only a narrow cot and a guttering candle. I’ll be watching you,” one guard growled, taking up post. “One wrong move toward their highnesses, and curse or no curse, I’ll run you through.” But the six princesses themselves seemed too weary to care about Poppy.
They lay on their beds like wilted blossoms, their lovely faces pale and drawn. Though near midnight, one princess rose as if sleepwalking. She drifted toward Poppy with a gentle smile, bearing a steaming cup. A warm drink for our lady in waiting, she murmured. The kindness in her voice nearly undid Poppy, but memory flared.
Another cup, another night. Cordelia’s poisoned milk and false maternal blessing. “Thank you, your highness,” Poppy said. When the princess turned away, she poured the liquid into her cloak and feigned sleep. The guard accepted his own cup and soon collapsed into snores. An hour passed, then movement. The princesses rose together, not in nightclothes now, but gowns of silk and starlight.
Wordless, they pressed upon an ordinary stretch of floor, which opened to reveal a hidden stair. Poppy shook the guard, but he was lost in drugged slumber. With no choice, she followed the sisters into the dark. The stairs spiraled endlessly until at last light blossomed ahead, an impossible radiance. Poppy emerged onto a wide avenue lined with trees whose trunks were not gilded, but gold itself, gleaming as if freshly cast.
The sky glowed in twilight, amber and rose washing every surface with unearly beauty, and music swelled. Harps, flutes, voices in perfect harmony that brought tears to her eyes. Yet unease prickled Poppy’s skin. The place was too flawless, too dreamlike. The avenue ended at a crystalline lake and at shore-waited boats, each steered by radiant young men.
The princesses stepped without hesitation into the boats. But as the vessels drifted across the lake, Poppy felt her breath catch. How could she follow now? Does the lady need a ride? The voice came from directly beside her, smooth and tinged with amusement. Poppy spun around to find a man lounging in his own boat, arms crossed casually.
His hair was dark as midnight, and his features sharp and elegant, with eyes that shifted between silver and deep blue, like the sea. Poppy’s breath caught, and she quickly pulled her hood lower. “I I have nothing to pay you with, sir,” she mumbled. “Then I shall require no payment,” he said, extending one graceful hand toward her. “Come.
” Every instinct screamed that this was dangerous, but the princesses were already halfway across the lake, and she had no other choice. She climbed into the boat carefully, pointedly not taking his offered hand. She couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling her rough, clawed fingers. “Would the lady like me to take her to the ball?” he asked, pushing off from the shore. “The ball?” Poppy blinked.
“Well, what did you think the music was for?” His smile widened. the ball. That must be where the princesses were going. “Yes,” she said quickly. “Yes, please.” The man pulled the boat with effortless skill, humming along with the distant music. When they reached the far shore, he leaped out with dancers’s grace and offered his hand again.
Poppy ignored it once more, keeping her face carefully turned away from him. It made him laugh. “I do not care about your curse, human child.” Poppy gasped quickly, ducking her face back into the shadows of her hood. “Very well,” she heard him say. “Keep your secrets if you must.” He gestured toward a path that led through gardens more beautiful than paradise itself.
What Poppy saw next stole what remained of her composure entirely. The ball unfolded within a vast garden pavilion, carved as though from a single crystal. Diamond and emerald pillars held aloft a ceiling open to twilight as hundreds of radiant figures moved across the floor, light as air. And at the heart of it all danced the six princesses, whirling endlessly.
“What is this place?” Poppy breathed. “The Fay Court, of course,” her companion replied. “The Fay Court,” Poppy repeated. “The kingdom of the fairies.” But as she looked around at the otherworldly perfection of every face and form, she knew it had to be true. Only magic could create such a place. She was about to ask more when she noticed the other fay were pointing and laughing.
And for a horrible moment, she thought they were mocking her until her companion spoke again. “They find your princesses quite amusing,” he said, his tone light, but edged with something darker. “Why?” Poppy asked. Well, they do look rather silly, don’t they? He tilted his head, dancing themselves to death like windup toys.
They won’t last very long at this rate. Horror shot through Poppy. She started forward, meaning to grab one of the princesses to shake her awake. But useless, her companion said. They won’t hear a word you tell them. They’ve been compelled to come here. By what? Poppy demanded. By whom, you mean? The man replied. Poppy gritted her teeth. Fine.
By whom? They’re here for the Fay King’s amusement, he said, gesturing toward the far end of the pavilion. Poppy followed his gaze to where a figure sat, watching the dancers with an expression of profound boredom. “He doesn’t seem very amused,” she observed. “Oh, believe me, he very much is.
” The callousness in his tone made Poppy’s stomach turn. “I have to be going,” she said, taking a step back. She had her answer. The princesses were being compelled by some fa magic to dance themselves to death. But now a new fear crept in. Would this beautiful otherworldly creature simply let her leave? “Dance with me first?” he asked, and for a moment his beautiful face showed something that looked almost like sincere hope. Poppy’s heart stuttered.
“I cannot,” she said. “You’ve been most kind, but I need to report back to your alpha,” he guessed. Poppy started to fabricate some excuse, but he interrupted her with a raised hand. “You should bring him proof,” he said. “Or he might not believe you. He didn’t believe the others.” “The others? You think you’re the only one who’s managed to find this place?” “Far from it.
There were others who tried to warn your king. But who would believe such fantastical words? Your world has long forgotten ours.” Poppy blinked. Was this what had happened to the others who had tried and disappeared? They’d found this place, returned with wild stories of fairy kingdoms and been dismissed as mad. She looked around desperately for something she could take as evidence.
Perhaps a branch from that tree, her companion suggested, pointing to crystal branches that sparkled. No one will miss it. Poppy glanced around the pavilion. The other fay were absorbed in their dancing and laughter. Thank you, she murmured, reaching for the branch. The moment her fingers closed around it, she felt something settle over her, invisible, but heavy, like chains made of air and shadow.
“Oh, no,” the man said, his smile turning sharp. “Thank you, for giving me such a good reason to keep you here.” Poppy stared at him in growing horror. “A reason?” she repeated. “Well, yes. There are rules, you see. We can’t keep humans here against their will unless his smile widened. Unless Poppy’s voice came out as a whisper around them, she realized the dancing had stopped.
Every beautiful face in the pavilion was turned toward them. Unless the human steal something from my realm, of course. The man gestured toward the crystal branch, which you did. You said I could take it, Poppy snarled. I said you should, not that you could. His expression was mockingly sympathetic.
“I didn’t give it to you, did I? Which means you’ve stolen from me.” “She’d been played,” Poppy realized. “You tricked me,” she spat. “I demand to speak to your king about this.” “Very well,” the man said, executing a perfect mocking bow. “You’re looking at him.” When she stared at him blankly, he straightened with evident amusement.
Valyrian, he said, his voice now carrying the weight of ancient power and terrible beauty. Fay, king of the silverwood court, at your service. Chapter 4. Poppy stared at the beautiful man before her, her mind reeling. You’re the king. Indeed, I am, the fay replied with evident amusement. Then what were you doing lounging around in a boat? Poppy exclaimed.
His smile widened. I happen to like boats, he shrugged. Poppy’s face fell. He’d orchestrated this entire thing, hadn’t he? Led her step by step into stealing that crystal branch. “Keep me here if you must,” she said. “But let the poor princesses go. You said so yourself. They won’t last long if this keeps going.
” “That’s hardly my problem, is it?” The king shrugged. “They’ve done nothing wrong,” Poppy protested. “Maybe not,” his eyes grew cold. “But their eldest sister bargained with me and lost. This was the price agreed upon. Poppy scoffed. You mean you lied to them just like you lied to me. She accepted our terms. Valyrian’s voice snapped. I’m no liar. Then prove it.
Poppy said desperately. Give me a chance to free them. You want to bargain? The Fay King raised one elegant eyebrow. Yes, Poppy nodded. In exchange for the princess’s freedom. The Fay King studied her with those shifting silver blue eyes. My lovely subjects,” he finally said, turning to his court.
“I find myself reluctant to bargain with someone who will not show themselves to me fully, for how can I judge the worth of a hidden player?” The assembled Fay began to murmur encouragement. They wanted to see the cursed mortal, Poppy realized. “Come now,” Valyrian encouraged. “Show us your curse, human.
” The challenge in his tone left her no choice. With trembling hands, Poppy pushed back her hood. Interesting, Valyrian murmured, studying her transformed features. Poppy heard several murmurss, but to her surprise, they didn’t sound horrified, merely curious. “I don’t understand,” one of the courtors said. “She looks like a perfectly normal human, does she not?” “No, you fool,” another replied.
“The normal ones have far less fur.” Poppy flushed but forced herself to stand straight. “What is your name?” Valyrian asked. They call me red eyes, your majesty, Poppy said quietly. And what do you call yourself? The king insisted. I’ve long forgotten to call myself anything else, Poppy murmured. The fa king frowned in strange displeasure.
Very well, red eyes. Then name your bargain. Poppy took a deep breath. Give me a chance to earn your mercy and save the princesses, she said. The fa king’s smile was sharp as a blade. I will give you three trials, he said. Complete them all and both you and the princesses may return to your realm.
But when you fail, his eyes glittered with dark promise. I will transform you into a tree to grace my gardens for all eternity. Well, I was going to be stuck here forever anyway, Poppy replied with forced lightness. Seems fair to me. But you could still move, still speak. The king shook his head. As a tree, you would be trapped in silent immobility forever. Poppy managed a bitter smile.
When I move, people quiver. When I fear, they run. At least as an immobile tree, I won’t horrify others. Something flickered across the fa king’s face. “All right,” he said. “Then it is a deal. Freedom if you win, a tree form if you lose.” Poppy had no choice. The princesses were dying, and this was their only hope. She nodded.
The bargain is struck, Valyrian said. Should Poppy win, the princesses can go free. Should she fail, I’ll transform them into trees. Poppy gasped. Now, wait a minute, she interjected. You never mentioned you’d turned the princesses into trees. But I never said I wouldn’t, did I? The king interrupted.
And in my opinion, they’d make fine trees. I could perhaps make furniture from them. Send a chair or two to your alpha king as a gift. Horror shot through Poppy as Valyrian eyes met ears. Silver blue and far too beautiful. She’d made a terrible mistake, for if the fay couldn’t lie. It seems they’d become masters at bending the truth.
“You tricked me,” Poppy muttered. “Indeed,” the king smiled. “You see, you didn’t have to bargain with me to earn your freedom at all. You could have just given me back the branch.” He winked as Poppy growled, turning to his court. “Now,” the fake king announced. “Let’s begin. Chapter 5. The Crystal Pavilion dissolved around them like mist.
In its place appeared a grand banquet hall with a long table groaning under the weight of sumptuous foods. The fa court materialized around it as if they’d always been there. How did we move so quickly? Poppy asked. We haven’t moved at all. Valyrian replied from across the table. Poppy stared at him.
If he couldn’t lie, then this meant he could create illusions at will, reshaping reality with nothing more than a gesture. Everything here could be false. Everything could change in an instant. The realization was both terrifying and oddly fascinating. “Your first trial,” Valyrian announced, gesturing to the table where two goblets sat elevated in the center.
“One crafted from gold that caught the light, the other a humble wooden cup that looked battered. You must choose one goblet to drink from. Only one is safe and poison free. Poppy approached the table cautiously. I have to guess which one is safe. Then does that mean I can ask for hints? She asked.
You can ask me whatever you like, Valyrian said, settling into a chair. But that doesn’t mean I’ll answer. Because you might lie, Poppy asked, testing. The Fay King’s expression shifted to one of genuine offense. I told you, human, we fay do not lie. But you lied before. When you told me that other man was the fa king, Poppy pointed out. I did not, Valyrian replied smoothly.
I said the princesses were here for the fa king’s amusement, and you assumed. Poppy bit back a frustrated growl and studied the goblets more closely. “If I choose wrong, I’ll die,” she asked, meeting Valyrian’s silver blue gaze. “Yes,” he confirmed without hesitation. And the princesses will be turned into trees. Poppy insisted. They will.
The fa king nodded. Poppy noted. He didn’t seem particularly invested in her fate. But the princesses, there was something there. A deliberate coldness that felt practiced. Why do this to them? She asked. I told you, Valyrian said with a shrug. I’d like to turn them into trees and send them to your alpha king. But if that were true, Poppy realized, why hadn’t he simply done it from the beginning? Why keep them dancing night after night, slowly dying of exhaustion when he could have transformed them instantly? There had to be rules
governing his actions, magical bonds that constrained even a fa king’s power. Poppy leaned closer to the goblets, inhaling carefully. Both wines smelled identical. “Was that another illusion?” “One of these goblets contains poison,” she confirmed. Yes, Valyrian said. And one does not. Correct. And you cannot lie.
Poppy checked. I cannot. His tone was almost indulgent, as if he were enjoying her methodical approach. Poppy stepped back, studying the cups again. This wasn’t a game of pure chance. If it were, both goblets would look identical. The dramatic difference between them had to be significant. One beautiful, one plain, one that would naturally attract attention, one that would be overlooked.
I wonder if this is a test of character, she murmured. Obviously, most people would choose the golden cup. It’s more appealing than that wooden thing. Obviously, Valyrian agreed, and she caught a glint of amusement in his eyes. Unless, of course, that’s exactly what you want me to think. Poppy paused, her mind racing.
that this is about humility, that I should choose the plain cup when it’s actually the golden one that’s safe.” The fake king’s smile stretched wider. “That would be quite deceitful of me.” He hadn’t actually answered, just deflected with another question. “Poppy found herself oddly charmed by his evasiveness.
There was an artistry to it.” “Which one would you choose to drink from?” she asked. “The one that doesn’t contain poison, of course,” he replied smoothly. Despite her frustration, Poppy felt her lips twitch. Words held meaning here. One had to use them carefully. “Can you tell me if this cup contains poison?” she asked, pointing to the golden goblet.
“Yes, I can,” Valyrian said clearly enjoying himself. When he said nothing more, Poppy tried again, this time even more precise. “Does this cup contain poison?” she said, pointing to the golden cup. “It very well could, couldn’t it?” The king tilted his head thoughtfully. “Then again, perhaps it’s the other one that does.
” Poppy found herself studying his face with growing fascination. “This poison you put into the cups,” she said, changing tactics. “Is it deadly?” “Yes,” Valyrian replied, beginning to sound bored. Poppy held back a grin. He didn’t think she could actually get anything out of him, and this was something she could work with.
“How would it kill me?” she asked innocently. “Would I suffer?” “Not too terribly, no?” he shrugged. “We’re civilized here, aren’t we?” The assembled court laughed, but Poppy paid them no mind. Instead, she paused and asked with studied apprehension. “This poison you mentioned, if you were to drink it, would it kill you, too?” “Yes,” Valyrian said.
“If I were to drink enough of it, I see.” Poppy nodded, acting scared. And is there enough poison in the poisoned cups to kill even you? Yes, there is, he said uncaringly. But then he caught on and his eyes widened as Poppy grinned triumphant. Right, she said. So that means both cups are poisoned since you just confirmed there’s enough poison in the poisoned cups plural to kill even a fa king.
The court fell silent and Valyrian stared at her with an expression of surprise and annoyance. But you said only one goblet was safe, Poppy continued thoughtfully. That means there has to be a safe option. There is a way for me to win this challenge, right? Yes, the king admitted with visible reluctance. The court began murmuring excitedly.
Even Valyrian looked intrigued despite his annoyance. “Oh, but red eyes,” he said with false innocence. “You didn’t ask how much time you had left.” Ice shot through Poppy’s veins. How much time do I have left? She asked. As of now, Valyrian glanced at nothing in particular. 1 minute. Poppy’s mind raced.
She was almost out of time. She had to think and fast. Let’s see. The Fay King couldn’t lie. He’d told her one cup was safe, but also that multiple cups contained poison. Right now, Poppy could only see two cups. But if both were poisoned and one was safe. 30 seconds, Valyrian announced cheerfully. Poppy thought of the easy way the king had transformed the ballroom into a banquet hall.
It was all an illusion, which meant which meant that it wasn’t because she couldn’t actually see a third cup, that there wasn’t one. Valyrian had never actually said she had to choose between these two cups. He just said she had to choose the safe cup. Poppy began running her hands across the table surface around the visible goblets, searching desperately.
“You know,” Valyrian said conversationally. “For a human, you’re not a complete fool.” Poppy looked up to find him watching her with undisguised interest. Then her fingers brushed against something cold and rough like stone, an invisible goblet right where she’d hoped it would be. She grabbed the unseen cup and drained it.
Well, she asked breathlessly. Valyrian’s annoyed expression was answer enough, and Poppy almost cheered, but then the colors around her began to shift and swirl. “I guessed right, didn’t I?” she asked, her voice coming out strangely giddy. “The Fay King said” said nothing, just watched with those mesmerizing eyes as she began to giggle.
“Everything was so lovely, so wonderfully bright and spinning. Only when she hit the stone floor did she realize she might have been wrong after all. Chapter 6. When Poppy woke next, her head still spun with lingering dizziness. She was lying in a bower of living trees, their intertwined branches forming a bed around.
And beside her, lounging in a chair that seemed grown from the garden itself, sat Valyrian. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or annoyed, little human,” he said when their eyes met. Poppy struggled to sit up. Did I Did I guess right? She asked. “You did,” Valyrian confirmed. Then seeing her questioning look, he added. “Drinking or eating anything from this realm will have effects when you are mortal, even when it isn’t poison.
” Poppy nodded slowly. “Come,” the fa king said. “Walk with me while you recover fully.” Valyrian guided her through the gardens toward what appeared to be a hedge maze with walls formed of roses that bloomed in impossible colors. In the distance, a magnificent castle rose against the twilight sky, its towers seeming to pierce the very stars.
As they walked deeper into the maze, Poppy caught the king studying her with an expression of curious fascination. “Tell me about your curse,” he requested. Poppy sighed. A witch cursed me for stealing her corettes. She dead panned. “Really?” Valyrian asked, sounding so surprised. Poppy snorted. “No,” she admitted with a grin.
“That was a But Valyrian’s entire posture suddenly stiffened.” “You lied?” he asked while looking me in the eye. No less. The words came out like an accusation, his voice rising with genuine shock. “I’m sorry,” Poppy said quickly. “I didn’t mean to lie. I meant to joke.” Valyrian stared at her as if she’d confessed to some unspeakable perversion.
“For us, sometimes a little lie is kinder than a harsh truth,” Poppy said defensively. “It’s not easy to speak about my curse. You have no idea what it’s like being trapped in a form that isn’t truly yours.” Valyrian’s expression grew unexpectedly somber. “I have some idea,” he said quietly.
“But there is no such thing as a little lie. Falsehood is falsehood, and it corrupts everything it touches. The depth of his revulsion made Poppy’s stomach twist with remorse. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Truly, I won’t do it again.” “Would it Would it help if I told you the real story about how I got cursed?” Valyrian studied her face for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
“My stepmother had a daughter from her previous mating, Luna, who she obviously favored.” Poppy told him the whole story and concluded. When I woke up, I was caught between forms and Luna screamed when she saw me. “She screamed?” Valyrian asks, confused. “Because I look like this, obviously,” Poppy said, gesturing at herself. Valyrian stared.
“Ugly,” Poppy clarified bluntly. “But all humans are ugly,” Valyrian replied matterofactly. “None of you can cast glamour spells or shape your forms at will.” Poppy gaped. To him, all humans seemed as ugly as her. “Well,” she explained. “To other humans, I’m particularly monstrous. People fear me, accuse me of crimes, try to hurt me.
” “Then why didn’t you bargain for me to break your curse?” Valyrian asked. “Surely that would solve your problems more completely than saving a handful of princesses.” The question caught Poppy off guard. I I didn’t want the princesses to die, she explained, making Valyrian shrug. And why not? He shrugged. All humans are the same.
Deceitful, hateful, quick to turn on one another. Are the fay any better? Poppy asked. Probably worse, actually, Valyrian smiled. But at least we don’t lie. Why is truth so important to you? Poppy asked, curious despite herself. Valyrian paused, his expression growing serious. Because our words shape our world. When we speak, we don’t merely describe reality.
We have the power to make it so. His eyes met hers. A carelessly spoken word can reshape the very fabric of existence. Can bind or free, create, or destroy. The weight of that revelation settled over Poppy like a heavy cloak. No wonder the fay were so careful with their language. which is why you should make amends for lying to me,” Valyrian said, his tone returning to its earlier lightness.
“Didn’t I do that already?” Poppy challenged. Valyrian’s answering smile was dazzling. “Tell me your name,” he requested. “Your true name, not what others call you.” Poppy opened her mouth to answer, then stopped as understanding dawned. “If words have power,” she murmured, “then names do too, don’t they?” Valyrian’s smirk was answer enough.
“Does that mean you won’t tell me?” he asked. “Poppy decided to play his game, answering question with question.” “When does my next task begin?” she asked, changing the subject. Valyrian’s smile widened with wicked delight. “Your next task?” he asked. “Oh, but it’s already started.” Poppy froze, her smile vanishing completely. “What did you just say?” Panic replaced the pleasant warmth of their conversation.
“What do you mean? It’s already started. Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her voice rising with fear and betrayal. “She had been enjoying herself, actually enjoying herself for the first time in years. And now she realized she’d been wasting precious time.” “I did tell you,” Valyrian protested.
“I told you the tasks would begin when you entered the maze.” “No, you didn’t.” She stopped, realizing he couldn’t lie. Did you tell me while I was unconscious? She asked. Yes, the fa king replied happily. You should really pay more attention. Poppy spun around, taking in the towering hedge walls with new eyes. This wasn’t a pleasant garden stroll.
This was the trial. She was trapped in here while time ticked away, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. “May I know the rules?” she asked through gritted teeth. “I already told you those as well,” Valyrian smirked. You ought to listen more carefully. Poppy fought back, frustration. How much time do I have left? Valyrian gestured ahead of them.
Until the clock strikes 12, he said cheerfully. I can’t see a clock, Poppy protested. Good luck, Valyrian said with a mocking little bow. And then he vanished, leaving Poppy alone in the maze. Chapter 7. Poppy forced herself to think logically. The task had started when she entered the maze, so surely getting out of it must be the key to success.
She began walking, trying to map the twisting pathways in her mind. Left turn, dead end, right turn, another dead end. The hedge walls stretched impossibly high, their rosecovered surfaces beautiful but impenetrable. After a good half hour, desperation began to set in. But then she thought, what if this was another illusion? What if the walls only seemed real but could be passed through with enough determination? She pressed her palms against the nearest hedge wall, pushing with all her strength. The thorns bit into her skin.
The branches felt solid and unyielding, but she kept pushing. Maybe if she just tried hard enough. What are you doing, child? Poppy spun around to find a tiny old woman watching her with curious eyes. She was bent with age, her wrinkled face deeply weary. I’m trying to get out of this maze, Poppy explained. You’d need to find an exit for that, the old woman said mildly.
That’s generally how mazes work. But these walls could still be illusory, Poppy insisted. Can you feel them? The woman asked. Poppy pressed her hand to the wall again. The thorns pricricked her palm. Well, there’s your answer then, the old woman said with a shrug and began to walk away. Wait, Poppy hurried after her. Do you know the way out? Oh, yes, the woman replied without stopping.
Can you show me, please? The old woman paused, turning to look at Poppy. I would, but that sounds awfully tedious, she said. Please, I really need to get out, Poppy said desperately. Yes, yes, they always need to get out, don’t they? The old woman’s voice carried the weight of infinite boredom. It’s always the same.
Who’s they? A sea of faces, all identical in their desperation, she waved a dismissive hand. Have you met many people in this maze? Poppy asked. I’ve met them all. I’m bound to this place, you see. The old woman settled onto a stone bench that Poppy was certain hadn’t been there moments before. You’re stuck here? She asked. Indeed, child.
And out of all these people you’ve met who managed to get out? Poppy asked. None. the woman replied with crushing finality. Poppy’s heart sank. “There has to be a way,” she moaned desparingly. “I can’t stay here.” “Oh, it’s not so bad,” the old woman said. “There’s a corner of the maze where owls have taken roost.” “How does that help me?” Poppy frowned.
“I don’t know,” the old woman shrugged. “They’re owls. They’re quite lovely,” Poppy wanted to scream. “Why don’t you get out?” she asked instead. If you know the way. I can’t. The old woman sighed. The fa king said I have to stay here. Why? Because he wants me to cry. The answer came matterof factly.
He wants you to cry. Poppy repeated. Indeed he does. He longs for my tears specifically. And you won’t just try to cry. The old woman looked at her with something approaching pity. Of course I tried. But you have to feel something to cry. and I’ve long stopped feeling anything at all,” Poppy sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could feel nothing,” she said quietly.
The old woman’s expression grew sharp for the first time. “You have no idea the emptiness that requires,” she said. “What’s the point of living if not for emotions?” “Well, if the emotions are pain and sorrow and shame,” Poppy sighed. “Pain and sorrow and shame at such a young age.” The woman’s voice carried genuine curiosity now.
“How interesting. Here was Poppy’s chance, she thought. If she could make this woman cry, maybe they could both get out. Poppy took a shaky breath and began to pour her heart out. “I was seven when my mother died,” she murmured. “She was everything good in my world, and when she left me, I had no one.
My father, he couldn’t bear to look at me because I reminded him of her. So when he brought home his new wife and her perfect daughter, I thought, “Finally, I might have a family again.” She let her voice break slightly. But I was wrong. Cordelia gave all her love to Luna, and I watched from doorways as they embraced as she received every kindness I’d dreamed of.
Poppy’s eyes filled with genuine tears. One day, a man came to court me. Me? For the first time, someone saw past appearances to value my mind. But Cordelia couldn’t bear it. She brought me poisoned milk, smiling as she offered it. And I, her voice cracked. I was so desperate for her approval that I drank every drop.
She wiped her eyes dramatically. When I woke, I was trapped between forms, neither human nor wolf. My own pack banished me as if my curse might contaminate them. Poppy’s shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. And for 3 years, I’ve lived alone in the wilderness, watching children run from me in terror. I’ve been accused of crimes I didn’t commit, hunted like the monster I’ve become.
By the time she finished, tears were streaming down her own cheeks. She peeked past her hood at the old woman’s face, but her expression was perfectly blank. “That’s it?” she asked, crossing her arms. “That’s your great tragedy. You’re not as pretty as your sister. You don’t understand, Poppy protested.
She pushed back her hood, revealing her wolf ears, her red eyes, the patches of fur covering her face. The old woman’s eyes widened. Then she began to laugh. She laughed and laughed, pointing at Poppy with one gnarled finger. “Oh, look at you.” She wheezed between fits of mirth, crying so pathetically over a little bit of fur.
“A little bit,” Poppy protested. I’m covered in it. This only made the woman laugh harder. You say that like it’s something tragic, you silly thing. She doubled over, tears of laughter beginning to stream down her wrinkled cheeks. Then Valyrian materialized beside the bench, a crystal vial in his hand.
With practiced efficiency, he caught the tears falling from the old woman’s cheeks. “Well,” he said to Poppy with grudging admiration, “you did make her cry, I suppose. Congratulations. The maze dissolved around them, revealing the crystal pavilion and the assembled fay court. They burst into applause, their melodic voices ringing with genuine appreciation.
“You mean I passed?” Poppy asked Valyrian. “You did?” he admitted. The old woman continued laughing at his expression, which only seemed to deepen his annoyance. Then, with a sound like crackling flames, she burst into smoke and transformed into a magnificent bird, feathers of gold and crimson, eyes like burning coals, and flew away.
Chapter 8. The moment Valyrian materialized beside her bed the morning after the maze trial, Poppy asked, “Has my third task started?” “Better be safe than sorry,” she would ask him every day now. “No,” Valyrian replied. I thought we could see the Hall of Whispers today. The acoustics are quite remarkable. Poppy blinked.
The Hall of Whispers? Why would he need to show her that? She asked him again once they got there if this was part of her task. She also asked when he showed her the library where books wrote themselves, and again when he led her through gardens where flowers bloomed in response to her moods. What about now? Has it started now? She pressed after he taught her to play a game with living crystal pieces that moved upon command.
“Not yet,” Valyrian said, capturing her crystal queen. “Tell me, what do you think of our twilight sky? Some mortals find the eternal dusk unsettling.” Poppy glanced upward at the rose and amber heavens, then back at the board. “It’s beautiful,” she shrugged. “But when will my final task start? Surely the alpha king, he won’t have noticed.
Valyrian interrupted. Time moves differently in the mortal realm. By the following week, Poppy found herself asking less frequently about the final trial. The question would rise to her lips, then fade as Valyrian showed her some new wonder. “You’re quite good at riddles for someone so young,” he said one evening, having spent the afternoon exchanging puzzles and wordplay with her.
“Young?” Poppy laughed. “I’m 25.” In fa years, 25 is but a moment, he said, meeting her eyes. I have existed for centuries, little mortal. You are barely a heartbeat. And yet, he paused. And yet, Poppy encouraged. Something flickered across his face. And yet, you entertain me. You think differently than others who have come here. I find you intriguing.
Poppy felt warmth spread through her chest at the admission. She hadn’t thought she could inspire anything other than horror before, let alone intrigue. Perhaps it is why she started feeling more at home in the fa court. Golden leaves began to fall, and she had yet to take her third trial. She had her own chambers now, and a sprit attendant, Dwrop, who brought meals that tasted like childhood memories and dreams made manifest.
“You’re cheating,” she accused one evening as Valyrian’s crystal army surrounded her last defending pieces. I am doing no such thing, he protested. It’s not my fault you failed to notice the enchantment on your commanderpiece. What enchantment? The one that makes him betray his own army if you move him to the seventh rank.
Poppy stared at the board in disbelief. That’s the most ridiculous rule I’ve ever heard. Yet you fell for it quite thoroughly. Valyrian’s smile was triumphant. Perhaps you’re not as clever as I thought. Before she could think better of it, Poppy reached across the table and flicked his crystal king off the board. I win by default, she declared.
Valyrian burst into genuine laughter. The crystal trees had shed all their silver leaves and begun sprouting new growth of palest gold when Poppy overheard the pixies gossiping near the fountain in the rose court. “Poor princesses,” one was saying with mock sympathy, still dancing alone in those woods.
“How much longer do you think they’ll last?” asked another, her voice bright with malicious curiosity. Oh, not long now. No one’s coming to save them. The words hit Poppy like ice water. The princesses, the dancing, dying princesses she had sworn to save. She pressed herself against the marble pillar, horrified by the realization that she couldn’t immediately recall their faces.
How long had it been since she’d thought of them? Days? Weeks? Poppy fled before she could hear more. The pixie’s laughter following her through the corridors, she wandered the palace in a days until she found herself in a part of the garden she’d never seen before. Golden trees lined a peaceful grove, their branches heavy with fruit that gleamed like captured sunlight.
She’d admired these trees on her first night here, drawn to their beauty and the inexplicable sadness. “Lovely, aren’t they?” Drop’s voice made her jump. The little sprite had followed her, hovering at her shoulder. The king’s collection of champions. Poppy frowns, looking at the trees. Champions? She repeated, confused.
“Why, yes,” Dwrop said. “You are looking at all the brave humans who came to save the dancing princesses before you. They make such lovely additions to the garden.” Poppy stared at the golden trees in shock. That evening, when Valyrian appeared with his usual chest set, she was ready for him.
“I want to take my third trial,” she said before he could sit down. He paused, the crystal pieces half materialized in his hands. “And you will,” he said. “When it pleases me.” “The princesses are dying,” Poppy said, her voice sharp. While I’ve been playing games and letting you distract me, they’re dancing themselves to death, which was all part of your plan, wasn’t it? Why risk letting me take the trial and free them when you could just make me forget about them.
Valyrian kept silent. And so, gesturing towards the garden, she added. And all those people, all those champions you turned into trees, they had families, lives, people who loved. Are you quite finished? Valyrian interrupted. His gaze grew cold, his expression petulent. “Haven’t I given you everything you desired?” he asked.
“Riches, safety? You are happy here, aren’t you? With me?” Poppy pursed her lips, avoiding his eyes. His eyes were too beautiful a distraction. “What would it take?” she asked quietly. “For you to give me my trial?” Valyrian stared as if he kept silent long enough she would drop the subject. Tell me your name,” he said eventually, and there was something defeated in his voice. “Your true name.
” Poppy studied his face. He looked sad now. And she couldn’t understand why. If I give you my name, you’ll let me take my trial, she asked. “Yes,” Valyrian agreed, though he didn’t seem happy at the prospect. “All right,” Poppy agreed. But if I succeed, you’ll free the people in your grove. All of them.
Turn them back from trees to their true forms. Valyrian’s eyes narrowed. Why bargain for strangers? He sneered. Ones who would fear your appearance reject you. Poppy winced. Because no one deserves to be trapped forever, she said. Valyrian was quiet for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his features. Very well. Give me your name and if you succeed in your final trial, I will restore them all.
She took a breath. Poppy, she said softly. My name is Poppy. Valyrian’s eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected her to actually tell him. Then his expression grew solemn, and she saw something that looked almost like regret flicker across his features. “Then your final trial begins now, Poppy,” he said, and the world around them began to shift and change.
Chapter nine. The world dissolved around them, reforming into the most magnificent ballroom Poppy had ever seen. Crystal pillars soared toward a ceiling painted with constellations that moved and danced, and the entire fa court was present, dressed in their finest regalia. “Your final trial,” Valyrian announced.
“You must find what you need to go home before the last dance ends.” Poppy looked around the vast ballroom. What am I looking for? She asked. That Valyrian said is for you to discover. The music swelled and couples began to glide across the dance floor. Though surely you won’t refuse me one dance before you begin your search, Valyrian asked. Poppy shook her head.
I should focus on the trial, she attempted. What harm could one dance do? Valyrian interrupted. Before you win and leave me forever. Despite her better judgment, she found herself being led onto the floor, and they began to move together, a dance that required no touching, their bodies weaving around each other in perfect synchronization.
“I’ve taught you well,” Valyrian murmured, his eyes never leaving hers as they circled each other. Heat rose in her cheeks, and Poppy looked away. “I should continue searching,” she whispered. “For what, I wonder,” he smiled. What is it you truly need to return home? Before she could answer, he waved his hand, and the world shimmerred around them.
The ballroom remained, but everything else changed. The harsh clanking of armor replaced the ethereal music. The scent of horses and unwashed bodies overpowered the perfume of night blooming flowers. The Alpha King’s brutal court materialized around them. “This is what awaits you,” Valyrian said. suspicion, hostility, a world that sees you as nothing but a monster.
The vision faded, returning them to the crystal ballroom. “But you don’t have to go,” he continued. “You could stay here.” “As your prisoner,” Poppy snorted. “As my queen,” he replied. She stumbled slightly and stared at him with wide eyes. “Stay,” he repeated. “Rule beside me. Never again apologize for what you are.
” You don’t mean that, Poppy whispered, eyes welling. You barely know me. I know you’re clever enough to amuse my Phoenix, brave enough to face impossible trials, kind enough to bargain for strangers freedom. His eyes burned into hers. I know that in centuries of existence, no one has ever made me wish I were.
He trailed off with a wse. Wish you were what? Poppy insisted. Whole, he said quietly. Before she could respond, he waved his hand again. The world shimmerred, and suddenly she was standing before an enormous mirror framed in silver and starlight. But the reflection staring back at her wasn’t the cursed creature she’d grown accustomed to.
It was herself before the curse, but herself perfected. Her skin was smooth and unmarked by fur, glowing with health and vitality, and she wore a gown of gold scattered with diamonds. This is how I see you,” Valyrian said, appearing behind her in the reflection. “This is who you truly are.” Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at the vision of herself.
“Beautiful, regal, worthy of love.” “You could look like this always,” he said softly. “Never again would someone you love choose another over you.” “In the reflection,” he stepped closer, his hands hovering near her shoulders as if he longed to touch, but couldn’t quite manage it. Stay with me, Poppy. Be my queen and my equal.
Let me give you everything your world denied you. She turned from the mirror to face him directly, her heart hammering against her ribs. The offer was everything she’d ever dreamed of. No more hiding. No more shame. No more loneliness. And the princesses? She asked, though her voice came out barely above a whisper.
What of them? He stepped closer. You barely knew them. Does it truly matter? Of course it does. Why? His voice was genuinely puzzled. Why sacrifice yourself for strangers? Do they truly matter to you more than me? She stared up at him. This impossibly beautiful creature who offered her everything she’d ever wanted. Looking saddened by the thought she may not care for him, she reached for him with her hand.
“Valyrian,” she said softly. Her fingers passed through his cheek like mist. The shock of it hit her like cold water. He wasn’t even here. He was just another illusion. “You’re not real,” she whispered, her hand falling to her side. “None of this is real.” Pain flashed across his features.
Genuine devastating pain that made her chest ache. “Poppy, I you tricked me,” she said, backing away from him. “Even now, you’re trying to trick me.” “I wish I hadn’t had to,” he said quietly. “I wish things could be different. But they’re not. She looked around the ballroom, seeing it now for what it was. Another test.
Another temptation designed to make her abandon her purpose. “Are you even real?” she asked, her voice breaking. “As real as I can be,” he said, reaching for her in vain. “This isn’t about finding an object, is it?” Poppy shook her head. “It’s about finding the will to leave.” Valyrian said nothing, but his silence was confirmation enough.
“I won’t abandon the princesses,” she lifted her chin, meeting his gaze directly. “Not for beauty, not for power, not even for she swallowed hard.” “Not even for you,” she thought. But she kept that last part to herself. Something shifted in the air around them. The ballroom began to fade, the music growing distant, the other dancers becoming translucent as ghosts.
“You have succeeded,” Valyrian said formally. “You found what you needed to go home.” “My resolve,” Poppy guessed. “Yes, your resolve.” He inclined his head in a gesture of surrender. “You may return to your realm, Poppy of the mortal world. The princesses will accompany you, and those who were transformed into trees will be restored to their true forms, free to return to their own lives.
The fa court was gathering around them now, but their expressions weren’t mocking or cruel. Instead, they watched with something like fascination. “Will I see you again?” she asked, the words escaping before she could stop them. Valyrian’s smile was beautiful and heartbreaking. In a way, he said.
The world began to spin around her, colors blending and reality shifting. The last thing she saw was his face, etched with longing and loss before everything went white, and she was falling, falling, falling back toward the mortal realm and the life she had chosen over him. Chapter 10. Poppy found herself standing in the alpha king’s castle once more, though the familiar space felt alien after the ethereal beauty of the fa realm, lit only by flickering candles and torches.
Around her stood the six princesses, no longer pale and exhausted, but radiant with health and vitality. And behind them crowded dozens of people she’d never seen before, all blinking in confusion and wonder. The transformed champions, the people who had been trees. She should have felt triumph, Poppy knew.
Instead, a hollow ache filled her chest. “He never loved you,” she told herself firmly. “It was all part of the trial.” “What happened?” The Alpha King’s voice boomed across the hall. “Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you all morning.” “Morning?” Poppy’s voice sounded hollow to her own ears. She’d spent weeks in the fa realm, but apparently here it hadn’t even been a day.
Explain yourself immediately, the king commanded. What sorcery is this? Mechanically, Poppy told her story. The fa, the dancing compulsion, the trials. The words felt ash in her mouth. What did any of it matter now? She’d done what was right and lost Valyrian. Fay magic. The alpha snarled when she finished.
You expect me to believe this children’s story? It’s true, Poppy said dully. Prove it, then. Show me this magic you claim to have witnessed. Poppy gestured vaguely at the rescued people. They were trees. Now they’re not. That’s your proof, she said. I see a group of vagrants and criminals, nothing more. For all I know, you’ve made all this up.
The accusation should have stung, but instead Poppy found herself staring past the king’s shoulder, her attention caught by something else entirely. A great golden tree still stood in the center of the hall. “You speak of bargaining with demons,” the alpha king continued. “That sounds like sorcery to me.
” “She’s not a sorceress.” The eldest princess stepped forward. “She saved our lives.” More voices joined the chorus of support, but Poppy barely heard them. She was studying the tree, a frown creasing her brow. Something was wrong. Everyone who had been transformed was supposed to be restored to their true form, but the tree remained exactly as it had always been.
Wait, as it had always been. Her breath caught. She remembered admiring this very tree on her first night in the palace. She’d assumed it was one of the alpha king’s decorations, but she now knew trees like this didn’t grow in the mortal realm. She’d only seen their like in one place, the fa court.
Poppy deserves the reward that was promised. One of the princess said, “You owe her.” “I am king,” the alpha king growled. “I don’t owe anybody anything.” The rescued champions murmured angrily at this, their voices rising in Poppy’s defense. “Fine,” the Alpha King said. “Name your reward, girl, but don’t expect me to give you my treasure tree,” he added, following her gaze.
Poppy turned to face him. “Where did it come from?” “What?” The tree, Poppy said. Where did you get it? The Alpha King crossed his arms. It’s been in my family for generations, he replied. No one knows exactly since when. What about the fairy tales our nurses used to tell us? One of the princesses interrupted, looking at Poppy.
Some ancestors supposedly won it in a contest with a fa creature. But that’s impossible. The Alpha King snarled. The fay aren’t real. Poppy’s blood turned to ice water. “What kind of contest?” she asked. Something in her voice made the king pause. “Riddles, I think, or some sort of wager. The family legend says the fa lost and had to send something to decorate my ancestors throne room.” He waved dismissively.
“The creature supposedly said if he lost, the tree would stay forever.” “Forever?” Poppy gasped. Unless Altha touched its leaves or some such nonsense, the king sighed. Poppy’s legs nearly gave out. Which is why no one is allowed to touch the tree, someone yelled from the back. We just pick up the golden fruits when they fall, but can never touch the leaves just in case.
Poppy’s mind raced. This wasn’t a legend. It couldn’t be because she knew what Altherra meant. She’d learned that word in Valyrian’s court. Poppy stared at the golden trunk. I’ve made my choice, she said. For my reward, I want sunlight to shine directly on this tree. The king stared at her. Sunlight, girl, you could ask for lands, titles, gold.
I want sunlight on the tree. Natural sunlight. I want you to open the ceiling completely. That’s the most ridiculous. You promised me any reward, Poppy said. You swore it before your court and your sisters. The challenge hung in the air. Around the hall, nobles and servants alike watched with baited breath. Fine, the king bit out, open the skylight above the tree.
Guards moved to the great chains and pulleys that controlled the hall’s ceiling panels. Poppy held her breath. This was it, she thought. Because Altherra meant sunlight. And now sunlight poured down like liquid fire and the entire tree began to shimmer. The transformation was breathtaking. Golden bark flowed like water.
And when the radiance finally faded, Valyrian stood where the tree had been, devastatingly beautiful. The entire court fell silent. Several people dropped to their knees. Even the Alpha King had gone pale, and Poppy’s heart hammered against her ribs. “It was you?” she breathed. Valyrian’s eyes found hers across the hall. “Yes, and after three centuries of imprisonment, you have given me back both freedom and form.
Why didn’t you ask for help?” Poppy asked. Valyrian’s expression grew rofal. Words have power among my kind. Remember? To speak of my imprisonment directly could have made the binding permanent. Besides, I couldn’t trust my court with such knowledge. Too many would have seen my vulnerability as an opportunity to claim my throne.
He gestured around the hall with obvious disdain. And would you have trusted humans with such a secret? You fool,” Poppy said, tears gathering in her eyes. “You were trapped as a tree for 300 years.” “Not anymore,” he said softly. “Thanks to you.” He looked around the room. “For centuries, I was forced to rule my realm as a projection, an illusion cast from this prison of bark and root.
” He gestured to where the tree had stood before addressing Poppy. Every conversation we had, every moment we shared, I was speaking to you from this very spot, unable to be fully present. I would have helped you, she murmured sadly. Surely you know that. Valyrian’s expression grew pained. At first, I didn’t trust you.
You were just another mortal. And later, he sighed. Later, we had made a bargain. If you succeeded in your trials, you had to leave. If you failed, you had to become a tree. His voice dropped to a whisper. I couldn’t bear either outcome. Poppy stared at him. You didn’t want me to win or lose, she whispered. I wanted you to stay, he admitted.
I wanted to keep you with me, safe and whole and mine. Nonsense, the alpha king snarled. You could have asked for anything, girl. Wealth, lands, titles. Instead, you’ll leave here poor and still cursed, having betrayed our kingdom. “Your kingdom doesn’t deserve her,” Valyrian replied, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.
“Poppy is worth more than all your gold and lands combined.” His expression softened as he turned back to her. “Come back with me. Be my queen in truth this time, not as part of some trial.” Poppy stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. “Is this another trick?” In answer, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hands.
“No trick,” he said softly. “Though I warn you, I may spend eternity making up for every moment I couldn’t truly hold you.” “Will I be your queen forever?” Poppy asked, her words carrying the careful precision she’d learned in his court. Valyrian’s eyes lit with approval and affection. Forever and always, until the stars burn out and beyond, he replied solemnly.
And I shall not share you with others. You will be mine alone, she pressed. Yours alone in this life and whatever comes after, he promised. And you will love me, Poppy continued, watching his face intently. Only me above all, only you for all eternity, Valyrian said, his voice growing warmer with each vow.
Poppy smiled as she walked over to him, reaching for his hand. And we will be equals, partners in all things,” she asked, lifting her chin. “In all things,” he promised solemnly, his smile radiant. “My equal in power, in rule, in love.” Poppy took his offered hand, and the moment their fingers intertwined, magic blazed through the hall.
Light surrounded her, and she felt her curse dissolving. When the light faded, gasps echoed through the hall. She stood transformed, glowing with confidence and power and the unmistakable aura of fa royalty. I don’t understand, she said wonderingly. My curse should only break if someone chose to marry me willingly while seeing me as I was.
Valyrian’s grin was radiant. You just made me promise to love you alone forever, to be yours exclusively, and to treat you as an equal partner in all things, he said. By fail, those are marriage vows. And the moment I agreed, we were wed. Poppy gaped in shock. “You tricked me,” she accused, but she was laughing through her tears of joy.
“Of course I did,” he said, pulling her close. “And I shall trick you many more times, just as you will undoubtedly trick me. After all, you are now my queen and equal. Deception is one of our greatest arts.” The princesses began to cheer, and the sound spread through the hall as others joined in celebration. And then Valyrian kissed her, the kiss she dreamed of through all their impossible courtship, real and warm and full of promise.
Around them, the hall erupted in joy. But Poppy heard none of it. There was only Valyrian, solid and present and hers, and the sunlight streaming down to bless their union. The fairy tale at last had found its happy ending. Hey everyone, thanks so much for listening. I hope you enjoyed the story. Share your favorite quote or moment in the comments.
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