He made his final leap and landed on the courtyard, just outside the main gate, and his comrade touched down a moment after him. The second faerie impacted the stonework with such force that a halo of snow went up around them, and Yone scowled. 

 

Nir smirked in response, a toothy grin. “What?”

​

“Show-off.” 

 

“The princess could be watching at any time,” Nir chuckled. “Or, perhaps some other lovely ladies of the court… for thee, and not for me, of course.” He then made a great show of adjusting Yone’s hair, tucking some of the long strands back here and there, while the other faerie’s scowl deepened.     

 

“A-hem.”

 

The courtyard gates swung open with the softest creak, silver against the soft ebonnight illuminated by the natural glow of the forest. In the center of the path, flanked on either side by four armoured knights, stood Lady Tris’ sworn sword. She stared past Nir straight at Yone, her eyes narrowed slightly, gleaming ruby in the torchlight. 

 

“Welcome to Castle Winterwood.” 

 

Nir strode up confidently, took a sweeping bow, and offered his hand. “Lady Aurin. Our pleasure.” 

 

She did not place her fingers in his outstretched palm. “Dame Aurin,” she corrected, sourly, her hand remaining on the hilt of her blade. Yone winced at his companion’s mistake, and cleared his throat awkwardly. 

 

“Is the Lady expecting us?” He asked.

 

“Yes. She awaits you within,” Aurin nodded, turning back to him, her expression once again shifting to one of  thinly veiled hostility. Yone suppressed a sigh, adjusting his own twin blades where they hung at his hip, feeling as though he could slice the tension in the air, and followed the faerie’s entourage into the castle. 

 

The doormen opened the tall, engraved entryway for them, revealing the glittering grand hall, where Tris and two of her ladies-in-waiting stood not far in. She broke into a warm smile as soon as she caught sight of the autumn faeries. 

 

“My good knights,” she greeted them. “I hope your travels were smooth. Come, let us get you warmed up.” She took a step closer, and addressed Nir under her breath:

 

“The princess is yet indisposed, but you may await her in her chambers. My ladies will take you there.” 

 

Nir grinned. “Many thanks, your grace.” And just like that, he went off with the two ladies-in-waiting, a spring in his step, ears perked high. Aurin rolled her eyes.

 

Tris clasped her hands together. “Now, that leaves the three of us. Shall we settle down and talk over some tea?” 

 

“It would be an honour,” Yone murmured, lowering his gaze, almost afraid at the feeling that stirred in his heart when he looked at the lady of Castle Winterwood, still acutely aware of the disapproving, ever-watchful glare from her guard. 

 

Soon, the trio find themselves in the privacy of Tris’ solar. Though the lady of the castle made every effort to ensure Yone’s comfort, he could feel his every move under scrutiny of those red eyes across the room; with each movement he made too quickly, he heard her fingers slide around the braided leather wrap of Her rapier. The other knights closed the doors, ensconcing the chambers in silence, and the sound of Tris’ tea-kettle was startling.

 

“Would you like a hand with the refreshments?” Aurin’s gentle tone as she addressed her lady did not match her glare. 

 

“Oh - if you wouldn’t mind! Perhaps you can select some fruit from the basket? I have some fresh grapes, and those lovely summer plums and figs that Lady Mimi sent~” 

 

“Hmm.” The female knight turned three-quarters, taking a gleaming silver platter, reflective enough to pass as a mirror. On it she arranged three rosy plums, a cluster of the figs, two sprigs of plump green-and-gold grapes… and after a moment’s careful hesitation, lips pursed at the offerings, two large crimson apples. 

 

She set the platter on the oak table between herself and Yone, taking one of the apples for herself.  He murmured his thanks, and she nodded, before seating again, crossing her legs and taking a loud crunch. Tris appeared then, gliding in gracefully with the three teacups and pot balanced in a tray within the crook of one arm. Yone felt the tip of her feathered tail brush across his back as she set the cup down before him, and the aroma of rose petals filled the air when she poured the tea.

 

Reaching across the table to pluck a sprig of grapes and toss them playfully onto Yone’s plate, Tris tutted, “Come now, don’t be shy. You must be hungry after your travels.” She sat to his right, picking one of the winter plums for herself, and slicing a sliver off of it with the tiny knife beside her. “Mmm!” 

 

Over Tris’ purr of contentment, Yone thought he could hear an audible sizzle as Aurin lifted the burning cup of tea to her lips and took a draught. 

 

He ate one grape to appease Tris, and then cleared his throat. “Shall… shall we begin?” 

 

”Whenever you’re ready, Ser.” 

 

“Very well.” The scales on his mask shifted slightly as he straightened, drawing a silent deep breath before he spoke. “Under Kalista’s orders, the other Autumn Court knights and I have been closely tracking some suspicious Unseelie Court patrols near the kingdom border. They have been observed conducting alchemical rituals using reagents found only on that land where our magical energies overlap, as well as intruding on our lands to harvest reagents illegally.”

 

He watched the two ladies’ expressions darken as he spoke, and then added, “What has your local Unseelie envoy to add to this?”

 

“My spies have been keeping close watch on Katarina,” Tris sighed. “She has had no contact with anyone outside of the court, though she continues to act suspicious.” 

 

“She takes far too much interest in the princess,” Aurin muttered. “We make sure that she’s never alone with Uri — on top of those watching from the shadows, but even so.” 

 

“Alchemical rituals…” Tris murmured, troubled. “What could they possibly—“

 

There was a knock at the door. Aurin dropped her apple with a clatter of silverware, her hand going to the hilt of her rapier as she flitted to the doorway in the blink of an eye. 

 

Yone heard her speaking quietly, her voice tense.

 

“What is it? We’re in a private meeting. Is it urgent? …This cannot wait until morning?” 

 

Aurin let out an exasperated sigh. “Lady Tris. They need you to select our designees for the ball. The list must be sent out tonight to arrive at the capital before tomorrow morning.” 

 

“For goodness’ sake,” Tris sighed. She hurried over to her desk, collecting her wax seal kit, and bent to whisper in Yone’s ear as she rushed past, “Do try to get along while I’m gone, I’ll be as quick as possible!”

 

Aurin’s twintails swung in the drift of wind as Tris dashed out, the door slamming shut. The knight squinted at Yone down her nose. 

 

A heartbeat of silence felt like an eternity.

 

“My Lady is very fond of you,” she said. “I am no fool to not see as much.”

 

“I can’t help but notice that you, on the other hand, are very much not,” Yone murmured. “What more must I do to earn your trust?”

 

“You answer to Kalista, and she, in turn, to Karma. Until we know the truth behind the untimely demise of the former faerie queen, I cannot let my guard down around anyone who falls within that retinue.”

 

“Under the reign of the late Queen, I was not serving in the Autumn Court,” Yone said. Aurin folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“...is that so?”

 

Yone swirled the tea in his cup apprehensively. 'Do try to get along!' – easier said than done, he thought. His relationship with Tris had been built on candor and Tris’ gentle touch, and Yone could only bring one of those things to the table… with a sip of rose tea for courage, he fanned out his right wing.

 

“Have you been told how this happened?” 

 

The hostility in Aurin’s expression gave way to a sliver of empathy as she took in the scarred slits and notches along his wing, cutting through the hawks-eye pattern in the corner where it attached to the small of his back. He moved the membrane carefully, as to not disturb the contents of the room, yet the whistling sound of wind through the holes made by the old injuries was clearly audible across the chamber.

 

“Is that why you can’t fly properly?” 

 

He nodded.

 

“Yes. A punishment for my… insubordination. Not from Kalista or the Autumn Court, but from someone you know well. Katarina.”

 

Aurin had been stepping closer, to take a better look at his damaged wing, but she halted with a sharp step. “You were acquainted with her before coming to the Autumn Court?” 

 

Yone met her gaze steadily – though he looked down at her from his height advantage, the way she stared up at him fiercely from several paces away still made him feel that he’d find his match, should they cross blades. 

 

“My mother was a woman of the Autumn Court… but my father was a nobleman from the Unseelie Court of Truth and Shadow. She left me with him at birth and I grew up under his tutelage.” 

 

Aurin was deathly still and silent.

 

“Unseelie faeries never work alone. Always in pairs, or small units. Rituals always take a combination of several factors – or reagents, in some cases – to produce the desired result. In my case, my speciality was reconnaissance and assasination. And Katarina was my partner.”

 

“...I don’t like where this is going.”

 

“Let me finish. At first, I let myself believe it was all for a good cause. Our targets were always ill-mannered folk, those who would harm our kingdom or its people. Sometimes, we’d even carry out operations on behalf of the Seelie kingdom, for the Queen. But then the contracts stopped coming from the usual lines. Kat started handling all of the communications. They had us taking out… nobles. Silencing voices who would speak out. Those who knew too much. And before I knew it, the next person they were asking me to kill was… the Qu—”

 

The air was knocked out of his lungs as her knee found its way into his chest, her four wings blinding him in their brilliance as she flashed across the distance between them. The table behind him was upended, figs and silverware tumbling and clattering everywhere, china shattering to pieces. Aurin’s blade was at his throat. 

 

“You knew, all this time, the truth of— no, better yet, you WERE the truth of the assassination of our late Queen, and yet you play at this game of— of what, exactly?” 

 

“Of making things right,” Yone grunted, lifting his hands. He winced at the crunching of broken china under them. “If I don’t let myself believe that redemption can be had, then what’s the point of it at all? If we let the Unseelie Court have their way, they’re just going to do it all again, until they can upset the power structure in both kingdoms and—”

 

“Be silent!” Aurin pressed her blade closer to his chin, drawing a bead of blood. “The only reason I do not cut you down for my late Queen this very moment is for my Lady’s love for you; but be grateful that reason still stays my hand!”

 

“Aurin!?! What is going on — stop this at once!”

 

Yone had never heard Tris raise her voice like that before. She sounded more shocked than angry, even in that moment, but to hear her speak so commandingly — the faerie pinning him down shifted and flipped over to the other side of his head, so that she could face the door, holding her blade parallel to his chest then.

 

“My Lady. He has told me—“

 

A look of deep dismay etched itself into Tris’ features, her small rounded ears flattening against her head. She shut the door tightly behind her, and dashed up to their side, placing a gentle but firm hand over Aurin’s sword-arm.

 

“I know.”

 

“You… what?”

 

From this angle below the two, and with Aurin above his head now, Yone could only see Tris’s worried face — but he could hear the emotion clearly in Aurin’s voice, the crack of betrayal like a piece of wood popping as it toppled in a bonfire. 

 

“I…” Tris hesitated for a long moment. Her worried look darted to Yone for a moment before returning to Aurin. “I did not think this information would bring you any solace; only strife. There was nothing we can do simply with Yone’s tale – you know that there is no one who can lie to me, but the testimony of a single dishonored soldier holds little weight in the Grand Court.” 

 

The blade levelled above him trembled, and Yone saw Tris uncertainly release her grip as Aurin pulled away. He rolled over to see the knight half-perched on the fallen table, a hollow look in her expression, as she stared at the empty space between Tris and Yone. 

 

A painful silence filled the air for several heartbeats, until Aurin finally spoke again, in that small, oddly trembling voice. 

 

“My lady… Tris. Excuse me.” 

 

The steel of her rapier scraped across the table’s edge as she clumsily turned, running for the balcony and sheathing her blade as she did so, freeing her hands to throw the double doors open in her wake. 

 

“Aurin, wait!”

 

But Aurin was gone, a glimmer of indigo wings into the night as she leapt and dipped over the railing. 

 

“Let her go.” Yone took Tris by the wrist gently as she started towards the blast of cold night air, shaking his head. “She has to come around on her own terms.” 

 

“And if she doesn’t?” Tris murmured, burying her face in his chest in dismay. “I thought I was protecting the both of you, but I’ve made things worse.” 

 

He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other holding the back of her head, stroking her hair comfortingly as he rested his chin between her ears. “You’ve done your best for everyone. I’m sure she’ll come to see that. She cares for you deeply.” 

 

“Yet I’ve betrayed her trust…” Tris’ fingers trailed up his arm, finding one of the scrapes there, and he winced, flinching slightly. She pulled back in alarm. “You’re hurt.”

 

“She didn’t hurt me. It’s just a few small scratches, from the broken china,” Yone shook his head. “Only superficial; nothing that can’t be mended.”

 

“Come, let me see,” Tris took his hand more gently this time, guiding him to sit at the edge of the sunbed close to the windows. “I’ll get some ointment.” 

 

He sat quietly, and let her fuss over him, knowing that allowing her to keep busy would help keep her mind off of her missing faerie, but the way the feathers at the end of Tris’ tail flicked to and fro betrayed her anxiety. Yone’s eyes wandered over to the mess of the tea-table, the squished fruits and shattered china amidst shining silverware.

 

Treats and tea-sets can be easily replaced, he thought, but would that the bonds between those we love so easily be mended.