The Prophetess Gave Me A Look. “That’s Disgusting.”

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

Hanna looked at her watch. Usually he was here by now.

The people she had trapped and tied up whimpered, pleading. She ignored them, scanning the rooftops for any sign of Kyle.

After a whole half hour had passed with no sign of him, she sighed and released the captives with barely any marks on them, not even hearing their cries of thanks as they ran.

Hanna set off, slipping through shadows and alleys as she made her way to Kyle's apartment. He lived only a few blocks from the community college, am easy landmark to remember. To top that off, his front door was bright red.

She settled into a shadow behind the dumpster nearby and waited, watching for any sign of him.

The shadows grew longer. Hanna's eyelids drooped and she slid down against the wall, yawning. A few minutes later, she sat bolt upright, her sensitive hearing picking up a quiet sound coming closer.

She peered around the dumpster, her eyes widening as she saw Kyle limping toward his door. There was dried blood everywhere, a few places still bleeding. The weirdest part...

It hadn't been Hanna.

If it wasn't Hanna who had attacked Kyle, who had?

Hanna snapped out of her thoughts as Kyle struggled to unlock his door. He dropped the keys as he swayed, reaching out to steady himself on the doorframe.

The villian hesitated. On one hand, he was her enemy. On the other hand, they enjoyed the time fighting so much that they were practically friends (in the loosest sense of the word, of course). Mostly, there was something that didn't add up about Kyle's injuries, and Hanna wanted to figure it out.

She stepped forward.

Kyle noticed the movement and sighed as he turned, mumbling, "Someone beat you to it today. Sorry."

Hanna ignored him, stepping closer and picking up his keys, unlocking the door for him. She turned just in time to watch him crumple to the ground.

She took Kyle inside and laid him on the floor, hunting around for a first aid kit. Hanna pulled off his shirt and froze.

Kyle stirred. When his eyes opened a Crack and he observed the scene, he quipped, "What? I'm amazingly ripped and flawless?"

Hanna's face was positively white as she started cleaning and bandaging some of his wounds.

Kyle's face was concerned as he watched her. "What? I think I'll live, most of this is superficial."

"I know who attacked you." Hanna's voice was barely above a whisper.

He waited, holding his breath.

Hanna pointed to a small symbol burned into Kyle's shoulder.

"That's my father's mark."

You are a Villain who has always had The Hero to stop you. At first, it was a true rivalry, soon it became a bit more like cat and mouse, you even found yourself enjoying it. One day, The Hero isn't showing up to stop you.

"Sorry, can't help you," the council says, the head mage waving his hand. Everything fades away, and I find myself in the archmage's cottage.

I kick and throw some stuff out of irritation for awhile, shouting at the ceiling. But when I kick the bed, the end post falls off, revealing a hollow hole inside.

I reach in, and find a small journal. Curious, I sit down on the bed and open it up.

"Dear reader, if you are reading this, it means I have FINALLY found a way out!!! Bless you, for you are most likely the one to thank for this turn of events.

"You see, I (an archmage, for 200 years), was never supposed to be. I cannot do magic to save my life, as you have most likely found out firsthand. I am not even sure how I ended up with the position, as I never dueled the previous archmage. The council simply appeared one day and declared it so. And so here I am, writing this book to tell you how I have managed for two centuries without magic."

My eyes are huge as they scan the pages. A few pages in, I discover that the previous arachmage, while unable to do much magic, was quite accomplished at potion work.

Anytime someone came to him needing something, or he was called upon to solve a problem, or banish a beast, he found or made a potion of some kind to suit the problem.

The book is filled with potions recipes, words to speak over them, infusions to add to objects.

"All this time," I marvel. "Maybe the council knew what they were doing after all. It wasn't magic the archmage was performing.

"It was science."

You are a terrible mage, yet through pure, dumb luck you managed to defeat an archmage in a duel, thus taking their place according to ancient tradition. Many mages protest against giving such a prestigious position to a clearly unqualified candidate, including yourself.

Why do you do it?

The little voice in her head never left her alone.

Why do you torture yourself over and over again?

She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, trying to drown out the noise.

You don’t have to suffer like this. Just walk away.

“No!” she shouted into her empty house. She curled into a ball on the floor, whimpering.

They wouldn’t care. They barely notice you anymore. It’s been almost two hundred years, Emmeline. Give up already.

She burst into tears, sobbing on her living room floor. 

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, only that the shadows had moved a great deal when she finally sat up and wiped her tears.

Emmeline stood, hearing a knock on the door. When she went to answer it, she looked down and saw Jules, the youngest child of the current generation. He grinned up at her with the toothlessness of a six year old.

“My mama let’th me come all by mythelf now!” he exclaimed proudly. He flung his little arms around Emmeline and gave her a tight hug. “I mithed you, Aunt Emma!” 

She knelt and hugged him back. “I missed you too, Jules. What are you doing here?”

Jules pulled away and looked at her gravely. “It’th a thecwet,” he said, trying very hard to not spoil the surprise. He only lasted a minute before he blurted, “You have a biwthday pawty tonight!”

Emmeline looked surprised. “A birthday party? For me?”

He nodded eagerly. “That’th why you got to come ovew to my houthe tonight!”

Emeline was stunned as she handed Jules a cookie and then sent him back home. She sat at the table and tried not to cry again, this time with happiness. They weren’t forgetting her after all.

She looked over at the lone picture on her mantle and smiled at the young family in the picture. In the months after taking the photo, she had hidden it away, not liking it. She was blinking, her husband was looking at her instead of the camera, and her son was trying to walk away, held in place by only her arm. She had brought the photo back out the day after her husband died, needing to see his face again. They never had a chance to take another.

Emmeline grew to love the photo over the years, especially as her son grew and had children, and then they had children, and so on.

Jules looked so much like her son.

She wished they could have met.

You don’t have to suffer. Just walk away.

“No,” Emmeline said softly, hugging the picture. “This is my home. This is my family.

“I will protect them.”

Most immortals become the angsty “everyone I have ever loved is gone” kind of immortal. You, on the other hand, instead took it upon yourself to be a loving presence to entire generations of your chosen family, because they are descended from someone you once loved long ago.

“What’re you doing here?” I mumble over my shoulder. Although I’m not looking, I know without a doubt who it is.

Ray sighs. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Not worth much,” I say, staring at the picture of my partner, framed and unnatural. She never would have wanted this. Her family didn’t know her anymore, why were they allowed to make these choices?

A groan behind me finally makes me turn. Ray stands there with his arms crossed, full disguise. I stare at him so long - not thinking much of anything, just numb - that I startle when he clears his throat.

“How long are you going to mope like this, Saga?”” He uses my code name, although I’m not dressed in my usual clothes. I didn’t take much care with my disguise today, just throwing on my mask and hood over dark clothes for the funeral.

I look away. “”If you came here to fight, let’s just get it over with. I’m not in the mood today.”

He sighs again. Why does he keep doing that? “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to pay my respects. I know you and Kya were close.”

“It’s my fault,” I whisper, turning back to the picture. She wasn’t just my partner, she was my best friend. I knew she was still a newbie, and I told her to go by herself. I thought she could handle it. 

By the time I got there, it was too late.

“Hey,” Ray says gently, shocking me. “It wasn’t your fault. I was there, remember? No one could have predicted that a normal everyday occurrence would turn so violent.” 

It was true. Ray had been there, for the same reason I was. Our fight had traveled several blocks and we happened to chance upon the scene. My fight with Ray had been forgotten as I rushed to Kya’s aid, and until this moment, I had forgotten he had been there at all.

I start walking toward the door, unable to stay a moment longer. 

Ray follows me. “It’s okay to be sad, Saga.”

I stubbornly ignore him.

He rolls his eyes behind me and I scoff. “You know I can see you. Why do you insist on being rude anyway?”

He grins. “It’s what I do best. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Argh!” I whip around to face him, face red with anger. Ray actually takes a step back. “I am not okay! My rookie died because of something I told them to do! My best friend is gone because I wasn’t there for her! And worst of all, she never got the chance to do anything she wanted to do! She was only 19…” My voice trails off with a sob.

Ray opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, you know what’s worse? You, coming here, to her funeral to mock me. Follow me, fight me, yell at me to your heart's content, but don’t sit here and mock me by pretending you care about Kya or my feelings!”

“Fine!” he snaps back, finally losing his temper. “I’ll tell you the truth if you want!”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “What I really want is for you to leave me alone, but go ahead!”

Ray’s voice drops back down in volume, slightly lower than his regular speaking tone, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “I’m not pretending anything. I may not have known Kya much at all, but I do know that on the few occasions I saw her, she seemed to be a genuinely good and happy person.”

“Why do you-”

“I’m not finished!” he snaps, before continuing again. “As for you, I do know you. I knew you would blame yourself, I knew you would be upset and sad, I knew that you would be here, and I knew you would stay long after everyone else left. I know you. Your feelings haven’t been a mystery to me for years! 

“The truth is, I know who you are.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it. “Inside, outside, underneath the mask and hood. You aren’t a mystery to me. I honestly thought you would recognize me long before now.”

I stare at him, unable to speak, trying to understand what he is telling me. “You-”

Ray looks up into my eyes, voice soft. “Emma.”

He slowly pulls off the mask, revealing the one face I didn’t expect to see.

The one that equal parts of me hated and loved, unable to decide between desire and defense. Part of me never wanted to see him again, had hoped he died.

Part of me was so relieved that I wanted to cry.

I chose the latter.

your a super Villian/super hero who's partner just died. When the funeral was supposed to be attended, nobody came, except for one person, your arch nemesis, who came there to comfort you through these tough times

I stare for a minute. There are...a lot of people standing around my front door.

I shake myself out of my surprise. "Can I...help you? Your Highness," I add hastily, sweeping into a deep curtsy.

The prince takes a small step forward. "We are looking for a Miss Anastasia Ryntz? We were told this is the correct residence."

My brow furrows in confusion. I feel like I'm missing something. I fidget with my threadbare apron as I slip between the guards and start fumbling with my keys to unlock the door.

"Yes, it is," I say slowly, ushering the crowd inside. "I'm Anastasia. I'm sorry, not to be rude, but why are you here?"

The prince looks around, distinctly uncomfortable in my very small house. With all the guards and his advisors, the room is very crowded. I wince as one of the guards tries to turn around and knocks a vase off my lone table.

The prince sighs and rubs the space between his eyes. "Really, Cass? That's it, everyone out." Balancing the cake in one hand, he uses the other to shoo at everyone. They look at each other uncertainly.

"I'm serious!" he yells. "The only people who are staying in this house are the lady, myself, and Grimms." He gestures at his closest advisor.

Slowly, my house empties, and I awkwardly offer the prince the one chair I own. "Would you...like to sit?"

He accepts gratefully, his advisor standing behind me, me across the table. The silence stretches for a few minutes before he jumps a bit in his seat. "Oh! I- We brought you a birthday cake!" He shoves it across the table eagerly.

I stare at it, then at him, confused. "Why?"

The prince frowns. "Well...it's your birthday, isn't it?"

I nod slowly. "22nd birthday. Why do you know that? And why do you know my name?"

The prince fumbles with his words for several seconds before his advisor - Grimms - sighs and speaks up. "Prince Auron is here to speak with you about something of the upmost importance. Are you the only person in residence? This is a private matter."

"Yes, it's just me." Dang it, I know my voice sounded sad there. I don't want them to think I'm a loser! "I live alone. By myself." Yeah, that was so much better. Whatever. "Anyway, what's up?" Facepalm.

Prince Auron clears his throat awkwardly. "You, of course, are aware that I am the youngest of the royal family. As such, on my birthday this year, when I came of age, I was given a prophecy about my future in the kingdom."

I nod. This isn't news to me. The prince's oldest sister will inherit the throne and his older brother will lead the armies and advise the crown. The third child is always a bit of a wild card.

"Does your prophecy have something to do with my business?" I ask. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be." I snort with derision. "You can see how I live."

Prince Auron fidgets. "Ah. Yes. Well, not really."

I wait, then when he doesn't elaborate, I sigh. "Your Highness, I would love to help you, but I can't do that unless you actually tell me what you need."

He blurts out. "I need you to marry me. Please."

I blink. "I'm sorry. What?"

You are a poor girl selling flowers. Today is your birthday but no one knows. When you return home you find the prince of the kingdom waiting for you with a birthday cake. "Are you sure this is the one?" He whispers to his advisor.

Edward strolled through the woods, whistling as he carried a basket of rolls on his arm. He’d been walking for almost two hours, but his feet were still light as he practically skipped through the shadows.

There was a low growl that stopped him in his tracks. He peered through the darkness. “Juno? Is that you?”

The answering snarl that came had Edward groaning. Of course it wasn’t. This happened at least every other time he came to the woods.

Still, he couldn’t stop the shiver of fear he felt travel down his spine when the creature stepped into the light. It looked like a leopard, but it was an odd shade of red, and almost as big as a hippo. 

Edward didn’t move, closing his eyes against what he knew would happen next. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the attack came.

A rush of air and a sharp growl as the creature pounced, a roar, a yowl as the creature was tackled to the ground. Then, a wet slashing sound and a whimper. 

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Edward asked awkwardly.

A smacking and gulping answered his question. He swallowed, feeling slightly sick. 

“Never mind.”

A few moments passed before the clearing fell silent. 

A sweet voice broke through Edward’s thoughts. “It’s clear now.”

He opened his eyes and grinned at the young woman standing in front of him. “Thanks.”

She shrugged, returning his smile. She reached out a hand and he took it, walking with her to the small, hidden cabin where she lived.

Edward set his basket of rolls on her table. “Here you are, m’lady. The monthly bribe to not eat me or anyone else.”

She laughed. “What did you bring me this time, Edward?”

He pushed it toward her, and she opened it, gasping with delight at the fresh rolls. “My favorite! Thank you!”

She immediately grabbed one and started eating it. 

Edward laughed. “Slow down, Juno! I didn’t think you’d have any room left right now! Did you see the size of that thing?! What was that, by the way?”

Juno swallowed with a gulp. “Red leopard.” She snickered at the look on Edward’s face before she took another bite, speaking with her mouth full. “Creative, I know. And I’ll always make room for your baking. Especially rolls!”

Edward laughed, but didn’t say anything. 

It took Juno a moment before she noticed, but when she did, her brow wrinkled with concern. “What’s wrong? It didn’t hurt you, did it?”

“No,” Edward rushed to reassure her. “I’m fine. I just don’t understand why you won’t come back with me. No one would care!”

He ignored the raised eyebrows Juno sent him. “It would be fine, it would! I’d make sure no one bothered us!”

Juno sighed, putting down her roll. “Because, they would care. Your village may not be very smart, since they haven’t figured…this out. And it’s been almost three years. But they would definitely notice if you brought a girl out of the woods and the “monster” disappeared without a trace.”

“They wouldn’t know it’s you!” Edward insisted. “They don’t know that you can shift. They just think you’re the wolf shape. They wouldn’t have to know! Please,” he begged.

Juno looked away. She couldn’t resist that face. 

“So…what?” Edward finally said, hurt. “What are we doing? I can’t live in the woods with you. I’ve only survived this long because of you. I’d be dead in the first week. You won’t come back to town with me.”

Juno closed her eyes, shaking her head. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Edward whispered. 

There was a sharp breath, and then both of them had tears sliding down their cheeks. They cried silently together for several minutes, neither of them wanting to move.

Finally, Edward stood slowly. 

“No,” Juno pleaded. “Don’t go.”

She knew that if he left now, he wouldn’t come back.

“Have you changed your mind?” He asked quietly. When she shook her head, he sighed. “I’m sorry. Please…spare the village. If you’re mad, take it out on me, not them.”

“Just go,” Juno ground out. “I’ll leave them alone.”

Edward walked to the door and opened it, then paused, turning back. “If…”

Juno looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He sighed. “If you change your mind, or come up with another solution, you know where to find me.”

She nodded.

Her plan had backfired on her. What had started as simple fun and games, had turned explosive, and it had just blown up in her face.

She never expected to get hurt in the process.

Every so often, the local baker must bake something and personally deliver it to the monster in the woods, and in exchange the monster leaves the village alone. What no one knows is, the monster actually has a huge crush on the baker and needs an excuse to see them.

I stared at him in horror. My best friend, my companion since childhood, knelt before me, holding out his sword.

“What have you done?” I whispered.

Kyle stood grimly, sheathing his sword. “What needed doing.”

I stomped my foot like a petulant child, my eyes filling with tears. “How could you?!”

Kyle looked away and didn’t answer.

I grabbed his hand. “That oath can’t be undone! Ever! You’re stuck!”

He refused to meet my eyes, gently extracting his hands from mine. “I know.”

The tears spilled over. “This isn’t what I wanted, Kyle.”

He winced. “I know.”

I kicked his shin in frustration. Not my smartest idea, as he was fully clad in armor. I hopped in pain for a moment. Kyle failed to hide his smile, but quickly schooled his expression.

I regained my footing and swiped the tears from my eyes. I stood straight and faced him. 

“I am mad at you.” I declared with my arms crossed.

Kyle nodded and bowed his head. “I would expect nothing less, Lady Isabelle.”

I stared for a moment, shaken at hearing my formal title come from his lips. He had never called me that before, not once. He barely called me my given name at all. 

I shook my head slowly, saddened. “Is- Is this what it is to be like now? Why? Why did you do it, Kyle?”

He looked away again. “You will be protected.”

I growled. “I can protect myself!”

He shook his head and met my eyes. “Not from this.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “From what?!”

His voice was barely a whisper. “There is…a plot. Stirring in the village. And if it’s here, it’s all over the kingdom. The people will rise and try to overthrow the rulers. The royal family, down to the children, the dukes, duchesses, their children. Anyone holding a title. Women and children alike. I can’t let you be a part of that…massacre.”

I was speechless for a few minutes, pacing back and forth in anger. “And you couldn’t just, I don’t know, TELL ME?!”

He shook his head, laughing. “Would you have listened? I know you, Lady Isabelle.”

“Stop calling me that!”

Kyle shrugged. “You wouldn’t have listened, and you know it! This was the only way. We are both bound by the oath now, until death.”

I started walking away in disgust, not caring if he followed me. A moment later, I heard his footsteps join mine, crunching a few feet behind me.

“You know,” I said quietly, looking straight ahead as I walked. “I may not have listened to you. But that was not the oath I wanted.”

Kyle didn’t say a word.

I continued. “I meant every word I said. I assume you did too, so I truly do not know why I am telling you this, but every word I said was true. You have been my best friend since that day you found me in the stables. My companion, the only person I could talk to as an equal.”

He stumbled behind me. I paused my steps until I heard him resume walking, but I did not turn my head.

“I truly love you.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I always have. Did you not ever wonder? At my feelings, at your own? Am I…incorrect in assuming you ever felt the same way about me?” 

I held my breath, unsure of the answer, unsure if I would even receive one, or one I even wanted to hear.

Kyle didn’t speak for a long moment. We were almost down the mountain when I finally heard him exhale and begin to speak. Neither of us looked at the other.

“Thank you for your honesty. Truly. I have always…tried to protect you and help you in whatever way I could.”

I couldn’t help groaning. “Just tell me the truth!” I turned to look at him. “I thought you always told me the truth, even when it was hard! Was I wrong about any of it? All of it? Tell me now! Just tell me! If there was ever a time for your honest truth, it’s RIGHT NOW!”

Kyle finally lost his composure. “Of course I did, Belle! I knew everything. Your feelings for me, mine for you, and most importantly, how bad it would be if we ever acted on them in any way.”

I blinked slowly, tears spilling again. Surprisingly, there are tears in Kyle’s eyes too. I opened my mouth, then shut it and turned away.

“Thank you,” I said stiffly, walking over to my horse. I started undoing his tether as Kyle walked up behind me.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Lady Isabelle.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I am sorry though.” Kyle boosted me into my saddle without waiting for the request. 

I looked over at him from atop my horse, quiet as he mounted his own. 

Finally, I spoke one last time. “I just want to say one more thing, and then we will put this whole matter behind us, assuming our new roles to each other, understood?” 

I hated taking my official tone with him, but Kyle just nodded calmly, waiting for my words.

“I will never forget what you have done. I have wished for years to take an oath with you before me, but it was not that one, and now it never will be. That decision will haunt me for the rest of my life, having been taken away from me without my consent. But as it stands now, I will be forced to move on, and you will be forced to watch as I marry another and bear children that should have been yours. I never cared about your status, or mine, for that matter. I would have left with you the moment you breathed a word of it. Thank you for protecting me. Should the moment arrive that we are to flee, I will go with my household, you behind me. Until then, I think it best that we keep our distance.”

I turned my horse in the direction of my house and urged my horse on, not looking back at him.

I didn’t want him to see the tears streaming down my cheeks.

"I pledge to you my life-"

"wh-what?"

"As your protector and knight"

"wait stop. No-"

"to serve you-"

"please stop. Not like this"

"and stand behind you"

"No- stand with me n-not-"

"I pledge to you my loyalty and from this moment on. I shall honor and protect, put your liege before my own-"

"stop. I bid you to take it back!"

"From now my life is yours and I shall serve you with honor"

"This is no oath I ever desire from you!"

"I shall become the sword that will protect you"

"There must be another way-"

"I will aid you to the top"

"There's no height I will reside upon without you by my side!"

"I am your loyal servant"

"No- you're the only one who isn't. You're my companion, my love, the only one by my side. Don't do this, please"

"who will reside behind you until my bones turn to dust and my heart sets to a stop"

"N-no.....please"

My father stares at me. “I…could ask the same thing.”

I wave off my soldiers around the room. “It’s okay. This is my father. Stand down”

He watches as they sheath their weapons, returning to their posts along the walls. His eyes travel the room, taking in all the Fae who are watching the exchange.

I clear my throat. “Attention, please. My receiving hours are over for today. Apologies to those of you who did not get an audience. I will open my courts tomorrow as well to make up for it.”

The throne room empties slowly, mostly without grumbling. A few Fae cast anxious glances at my father, glaringly human in the midst of so much magic.

“I- I-” he stammers. “You are… queen? Of all these…things?”

I gesture for him to sit. “I will explain. But you must listen and not interrupt.”

He nods, and I begin my tale.

“Twenty years ago, I was playing in the front garden on Mama’s birthday. I knew you wished to be alone, even at 4 years old. While you were talking to her grave in the clearing, I was stolen by a group of radicals, traitors to the Fae crown. 

“It was a civil war.

“It was almost two years before the resistance was tamped out and I was rescued by the crown. The previous queen was old. Her husband had died in the war, leaving her running the war with only her 8 year old son to help. 

“About 10 years ago, she crowned him King of the Fae. We struck up a friendship, which turned to courtship. We were joined - married - about five years ago. The old queen died shortly after. 

“So here I am, Queen of the Fae.” I smiled kindly at my father. “If you had come a few days earlier, you could have met my husband. He’s away right now, helping in one of the Eastern provinces.”

My father looks hurt. “They didn’t let you come home?”

I shake my head. “Father, you were so hurt after Mama died. You never really seemed to care much about me. I knew you loved me, but I assumed you would have thought I was dead and left it alone a long time ago. Besides, once I came to live with the old queen and prince, I loved it here. And once we began courting, they made me fully Fae. I can never live normally among humans.”

My father looks away uncomfortably. “I…never meant to make you feel that way.”

My voice is soft. “I know. It’s okay, Father. You’ve found me now! I’m alive. I’m happy. What more could you want? You can go home and live your life.”

My father steps forward. “I want you to come home with me! You can’t truly be happy! Look at this place, these people! They stole you from me. Now I can steal you back.”

I take a step backwards. “I am happy, Father. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you like, although you can’t stay permanently. But I will be staying. These are my people, and if you threaten them, me, or my family, I will not hesitate to take action against you.”

He does not fight me. My father agrees to stay for a little while, wanting to meet my husband. 

Two weeks later, after a few strained dinners between my father and husband, I woke in the middle of the night to see my father standing over our bed with a knife.

He did not leave the palace after all.

His daughter was stolen by the Fae. Two decades of fruitless searching later, his time for vengeance has come. He kicks in the door to the Queen’s throne room as she flies to her feet, grabbing the hilt of her sword before recognition flashes across her face. “Dad… what are you doing here?”