The ointment had helped with most of the bruises on her face and arms but she might want to see a healer for the one on her shin. Still she wore the yellow and blue dress that fell to her knees, letting Aine see the bruise. Aside from the dress and the plain shoes she wore nothing, choosing to keep her neck and wrists bare, though atop her head a maid had placed a crown of woven metal flames. The flames were silver and glittering like the sun.

"You clean up well." Aspen said as he looked her up and down when she opened her door.

"No snide remarks today Prince?"

"Well Costrae already beat your pride to a pulp so I figured that I would go easy on you." she rolled her eyes.

"Well don't expect me to do the same." he raised his eyebrows.

"Gratitude wearing off?" she halted her walk

"Why should I be grateful that you kidnapped me?"

"You wanted to stay with the king?"

"He will think I ran away and will punish my people for it."

"I didn't know you still cared about your people Anatia, if you can still call them that." Aines voice made her go cold and she turned to see the Queen prowling for her from the other end of the hall. "When was the last time you stepped foot on Altonessian soil?" the words seared her soul.

"The night I ran away."

"Yes, the night the trees in Fire Forest  were set a flame, petrified, completely turned to solid blocks of ash. You know they say the forest burned for the whole night and day until the next sun set. Since then not a bud or blossom has the forest borne." The smirk on Aine's face was infuriating. She came to Ana's side and walked, she took the cue and followed behind her though she wished she could just hang back to talk with Aspen instead. Since when has she liked talking to him? She glanced back at him to find his eyes glued to her, a small smile graced his face that was echoed on hers. Yes, she didn't know when it had happened, but somehow this warrior brute had become a friend, or as close to a friend as she would let herself have. Aspen's gaze snapped to something in front of her and she looked forward just in time to stop and avoid crashing into Aine. The Queen was staring between her and Aspen, grinning like a cat with a mouse. The Queen knew somehow about this friendship they had, and it halted her heart in her chest. Aspen's face was paler than she had ever seen him and she noticed how his hand subtly drifted to his sword belt. "Have you considered a marriage alliance?"

"What?" her confusion and shock must show on her face because that blood curdling grin only grew.

"A marriage alliance, for troops, I assume you will want to take back your throne with your sisters one day." Aine cocked her head, "You have already sold your soul to your enemies, this trade would seem small in comparison."

"Whether or not I take back my throne isn't your business." her voice is quiet, not from weakness, but from something released.

"The fate of one of the most powerful Empires and one of the most powerful rulers in Damhain is everyone's business, especially since I might be willing to help with forging an alliance." Aine's influence was considerable enough that her help could decide their fate in any potential war. But no, there would be no war. There could be no war.

"I have no interest in marrying, your Majesty."

"What a shame, Pierson seemed interested." Aine faked a small pout. She rolled her eyes, continuing behind Aine into the dining hall and sitting at the opposite end of the table.

That night she was sitting in her room unable to fall asleep. She wasn't tired, but she didn't have the energy to go wandering the castle. She looked around her room searching for something to occupy her time, or at least to tier her out so she could sleep. As she scanned over the chairs and mirrors and stone her gaze caught on an old stone bookcase.

She had always wanted to learn the old language, the old ways, but after Glacinar took over it had become impossible. Now she lived in a room with a bookcase full of the fae's writings, translated into the modern tongue by some scholar.

She scanned the spines for the most interesting and eye-catching book and quickly found One that picked her interest. It was an old looking book with gold filigree weaving around the words, Sean-scéalta read the title, thorns and brambles spiraling around the spine. The book appeared to be a collection of old Faerie Tales. She remembered her mother singing a lullaby to her of the stories, the old maids and the elves, the swamps and the faerie rings. The songs were woven deep within her. She opened the book coughing a bit as dust clouded the air.

Marmalade Mhuire Bheag  ~  Little Lady Marmalade

An tSean-Bhean  ~  The Old Maid

Sùilean Briste    ~  Broken Window Children

She remembered some of the stories but others were as novel and strange to her as fish to trees. By the time she was even halfway through the book The sky was growing lighter, preparing for the sun to peek over the horizon. She looked up as the light in her room began to grow cooler, the lantern less necessary. She closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf running to her bed to see if she could fall asleep and get some rest before the morning. Grey light flooded through the diaphanous curtains but she closed her eyes tight, and ignored the flapping of raven wings as the bird flew away.