Vadde’s scream filled the entire forest. The tears in her eyes clouded her view.

A green hand caught Wyrn and Vadde nearly plummeted from the branch as she fell to her knees, thankful.

The green hand to rise up and stop before her was empty and she crawled on. Heights were never something of comfort, so she held the creature’s thumb.

A familiar face greeted her once she was close to the base of the tree. The troll.

“Hello, miss. Are you safe?”

Vadde shed another tear and nodded, frantic. “Where is he?”

“Don’t worry,” the troll said. His speech sounded slower, but she knew that was merely a size difference skewing her perception.

“You’re safe. I’ll take him beyond the forest and—”

“No! Please. Don’t do that. Please bring him here.”

The troll’s eyes widened. He started to refuse but instead said, “Do you know who this is?”

Vadde summoned her courage and stood, hands extended. “He’s my husband. Please give him here.”

“Oh, so you’ve agreed then?” the troll asked, disappointed. “And they forced you to marry the Fairy King.”

His concern was sweet, but she wiped her eyes and assured him, “I was married to him before we were fairies. Please. He’s my absolute favorite person. Return him to me.”

The troll brought her close to his nose and whatever he found upon examining her feet, didn’t sit well with him.

“He’s injured you. Hasn’t he?”

What could she answer? He’d been right.

Letting out a sigh, the troll pulled his left hand back, ready to hurl Wyrn.

“Please! No. Stop. I order you to stop. Please stop.”

The creature paused then turned his head to regard her.

“Please.” Vadde calmed, hands extended. “He’s not the same fairy king. Please. He’s gentle. This was a misunderstanding.”

For a long while, the troll refused to comply. Finally, he brought Wyrn’s limp body to rest on his palm before her.

“I have never heard of a gentle fairy king. Even a gentle fairy is already rare. But the king? He was a terrible being. No one wished for his return.” He regarded Wyrn with disgust in his voice. “This terrible news will upset everyone.”

Vadde sat down and pulled Wyn’s head into her lap. When she looked up to find the troll turning her this way and that, she admitted, “My wing is damaged, and my feet hurt so much I can hardly stand. What can I do?”

The troll considered her words. “The wood nymphs can repair it.”

“No. Never mind then.” She’d had more than enough of wood nymphs.

Wyrn groaned, brows furrowed and Vadde’s heart swelled.

“Husband? Husband? Wake up.” She tapped his face until his eyes flew open. “Husband,” she called again, willing him to answer with ‘wife’ as he’d done so many times before.

He seemed happy at her presence at first, but that gladness dissolved into shame.

Vadde’s very being longed to be pressed against him, but she showed restraint and allowed him to stand on his own.

She watched his back, employing patience.

Finally, he said, “We need to find you some wood nymphs. They can repair your wing and help you with your feet.”

“What!” Despite her outburst, he didn’t react, so she held his shoulder and turned him to her. “Wood nymphs? Have you seen the wood nymphs?” Nothing. Not much more than a blink. She extended her hands and pointed into the distance at the waterfall. “We just came from the blasted wood nymphs.”

Wyrn watched her for some time before he said, “Those weren’t wood nymphs. They were water nymphs. They had sharp teeth. They’re carnivores. Wood nymphs have flat teeth; they eat plants. Water nymphs also lie a lot. A wood nymph will help you.”

And then he fell silent. Even when she thanked him, he gave no response. Her one attempt at approaching him had him stepping back.

Vadde sighed in defeat then called up to the troll. “I suppose I’ll be taking you up on that offer for the wood nymphs.”

A troll was a slow-moving beast, she found out as they traveled. He was sure to bend his fingers so she had an easier time holding on as he walked. Wyrn held nothing, opting instead to keep his distance from her.

Where they ended up was nothing short of amazing. A little house, nestled in the crook of a tree branch, sported a veranda.

Vadde stepped off. Her husband didn’t follow at first, but finally he stepped before her, keeping her safe.

A wood nymph didn’t fly. They had no wings Vadde could see. Like all creatures thus far, they were naked. They were also tiny, even smaller than fairies.

Three of them emptied from the house. Two rushed back in upon seeing Wyrn. The elder one, still on the veranda, held out her hands to Vadde.

It took some whispering in anger for her to convince them Wyrn was harmless.

Vadde sat down where instructed and watched curiously as one little nymph hurried to pick a pine needle then jumped back to the house. A yellow glow hung from the needle the nymph wordlessly used to sew her wing.

The sensation was awful. Vadde feared she’d throw up; it was so upsetting.

For her feet, another nymph returned with a huge leaf she started breaking up.

But as Vadde was mended and pampered, Wyrn made his way to the end of the branch and sat down.

“Within a short while, you should be better,” the little nymph said for the first time. She glanced back at Wyrn, fearful. “Should we send for help?”

Vadde smiled at the offer and was sure to hold the girl’s hand before she could apply more of the paste. For her wing, she waited. She received a pat on the head and stood, paste in hand.

Wyrn was taking this rather hard. Vadde wasn’t sure what was more unsettling for him, finding out he was a fairy or finding out the damage he’d done.

She hesitated to approach, mostly because she feared she’d fall off. But seeing Wyrn sitting around brooding was hard to bear. Morning had all but come.

Now, with the sunlight, she took him in, albeit from the back. He looked stunning. This was his true form. Everything in her said as much. Unlike her, who feared the branch, he sat with little worry of falling. One thing was strange, though, his back…was bare. The black marks which were once on his shield, now sprawled on his skin.

A spell, that was what he’d said. Even now, his words still resounded. He’d accused her of being a fairy who transformed him. Vadde supposed that was a better reality than the truth.

He had a right to know, she decided, but not now. Not when they’d just gotten each other back. Not…not when she came so close to throwing it all away for nothing. Not…not after she was stuck all night in the presence of a man who made her want to implode.

Sad news and gloom were never far off. It could wait. Being this small was terrifying, even with the knowledge that the creatures around listened to her and protected her. But there was only one time she felt safe—at Wyrn’s side, when he was happy.

It was a dirty trick and it hearkened back to Shaza more than herself when she stepped around to sit before him while handing the paste over.

For some time, he did not take it. Finally, she said, “Could you?”

He regarded her in confusion, so she picked up her right foot and held it before his face.

His blue eyes stared past her, then lowered to her hands. He took the paste and pulled her right foot into his lap which he rubbed liberally. Once it was spread evenly between both feet, Wyrn stared past her, refusing to make eye contact.

“You’re a fairy. But I’m sorry for how I treated you.” Wyrn’s voice quivered, and he shook his head. He wasn’t even speaking to her directly when he sniffed. “I left you with that monster—that prince. But before that…I was the monster, too.”

Vadde debated what to say. She lost her chance when a tear fell on her right foot. Wyrn held it in both hands. If the way he stroked her leg was any indication, he wouldn’t last long before he broke down.

Letting out a sigh, Vadde scooted closer to him and took him into her embrace. Even his body felt warm and electrifying.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Why can’t I do this right? Why can’t I do anything right?”

“Shh,” Vadde soothed, rubbing his back. She was practically in his lap as she wrapped her legs around him. After she guided his head to her shoulder and he complied, she rested on his shoulder as well. And there they remained, nothing but the steady beating of his heart against her lulling them into a calm.

“I’m sorry,” Wyrn said again.

“You don’t have to be sorry, darling. We’ll be all right. We’re all right now.”

Wyrn tightened his hold around her waist, dragging her closer. “You’re a fairy. And you couldn’t stand the way I was so much so that you’ve made me into one, too. I’m sorry for that.”

Vadde tensed. “What? No. Of course, not.”

“And I thank you for what you’ve done but you have to understand what being a giant means to me. No. I wasn’t a proper one, but I was one. Even with my back bent, I was one. And you…fixing me, I know you mean well, Princess, but I cannot accept this. I’m sorry.”

The words washed over her like the tide come in and when they receded, they left her vulnerable and on the defensive.

What was she to do? What was she to say?

“Can’t you love me as I am? Can’t you love me as I truly am? Even with a hunched back?”

Vadde felt hollow. She wanted to run. As much as she wanted to stay, the thought of bringing his world down around him riddled her with guilt and woe.

She didn’t want to do this. Hurting him like this was beyond her.

He trusted his mother without question. His entire family all believed in her. She was a sweet little lady who fixed their clothes, tended to all their requests, and dropped bodies to keep them safe.

When Vadde thought of the horror and hardship of not only giving birth alone in a war zone, then being too weak to fight off a bunch of humans who happen upon her newborn and stole it, only to be denied its return.

In that moment, she could more than imagine cutting The Living Goddess’s throat herself. And that goddess…no one could blame her for wanting to save her own son.

Who was right? Who was wrong? Vadde did not know.

But she did know that fairies were now at odds with giants and without The Living Goddess and the temple, a giant’s pairing was limited.

Thoughts fell to Bonn and then Wyrn should he find another wife and try.

But he was a fairy. This was a giant’s problem and Wyrn was a fairy.

How was she going to tell him what he was?

“I love you,” Vadde admitted. She waited for him to repeat the words back to her and when he didn’t, she persevered. “I do love you. And I want you to stay with me. Won’t you even consider remaining as a fairy?” She was never going to be human again, not without a wish in that pool of water. And what could she give as payment to receive it? A life for a life? Whose? Wyrn’s?

Never.

His grip never loosened though he didn’t respond to her proposal. That meant one thing—no.

He wanted to be a giant. Perhaps she should grant it.

“Would you be happier if you were just like your brothers and your father?”

Wyrn pulled her closer, his face in her neck. His nonverbal response resonated. It was all he wanted. And perhaps she could grant him that wish.

“I love you,” Vadde said again, now no longer hurt when he didn’t say the same. “And I’ll make this right. I promise.”

His tears against her throat were enough. It was all she needed, and they remained that way for some time.

Finally, a voice asked, “Miss? Miss, who are you talking to?”

The troll was back; perhaps he’d never left.

“Please give us some privacy,” Vadde begged. “He’s overwhelmed.”

A shift in the branches showed the curious eyes peering down on them.

“Overwhelmed? Why do you say that?”

She couldn’t answer. This wasn’t the time.

“I ask,” the troll said, “because you don’t seem to be aware of the fact that he can’t hear you.”

Vadde picked her head up and turned to face the thing. “What?”