Elowen had decided that the wedding planning was a disaster. She'd given up weeks ago and let the frivolous Cyran event planners do their jobs without interference. Instead of overseeing the circus, she opted to make sweets and confections in the kitchens for the reception. 

The servants had no choice but to forcefully remove her from the kitchens to get ready for the wedding. Cookie assured her she could finish the preparations, and Elowen could dress in the magnificent wedding gown the Cyran tailors had made that reminded her of a fluffy mousse. Then they attacked her hair with such ferocity that Elowen really missed Trix and her little spells, which made dressing so easy. 

Her brother was the only person beyond the servants permitted in her chamber on her wedding day. Brennon had no trouble ordering the staff to powder her nose and add various sprays and perfumes to her body. It was almost as if he was the only one enjoying himself. 

Finally, once Elowen could barely move, the servants backed away, and Brennon looked her over. He smiled and presented her with their mother's shoes. She used his shoulder for balance while putting them on, grateful for a piece of their mother on this day. 

"If you hate these fashions so much, I suppose you could set the trends as queen and change them," Brennon noted. "Unless you plan on letting the staff dress you in silence forever, dear sister."

"It's sometimes easier to let the Cyrans have their way." Elowen could barely walk in eight layers of petticoats under six sets of hoops, and she could barely breathe between the tight bodice and the layers of jewels she was buried in. 

"Well, I sent Zax out to see if a certain guest was here and we got lucky," Brennon said, and he opened the door so that Zaxten de Bine could enter with Avangelique de Sahar by his side. 

"Elowen," Avangelique smiled. "How are you?"

The young fairy empress hadn't been seen since her sister's crowning six months ago. The fairy isle was recovering under her care, and Avangelique had started recruiting young women to join her as fairies. Surprisingly, she's started with Elowen's stepsisters, Tabitha and Zola. 

Elowen was surprised to learn that, like Wryn, Tabitha and Zola, were adopted. They'd been orphaned and taken to the fairy island as young children, where the fairies took care of them until their fall. Since they were too young to swear oaths to the sisterhood of fairies, they survived the curse that killed all the others. For some reason, Monique had taken them in and made them her daughters. 

"I'm doing fine," Elowen said. "How are our stepsisters?"

"Tabby and Zola are picking up the intricacies of wish magic well enough," Avangelique said. "And they're caring for some of our younger recruits. They're down in the hall as guests."

"Can you help her?" Brennon asked. 

Avangelique looked Elowen up and down. "I think we can save this."

She flexed her fingers and took in the white fluffy gown. Then she snapped her fingers, and the entire gown changed, weaving and moving across Elowen's body. The fabric ticked, loosening around her bodice, enabling her to take a deep breath. Her skirt split in half and became a cape hanging down Elowen's back. The jewels and a portion of the skirt divided off to form loose ballooning white pants studded with gems that sparkled. 

It was unlike anything Elowen had ever seen. The final outfit resembled more of a gentleman's military uniform, but it was formfitting so it could uniquely show off the female body. The skirt divided around her legs, so it became a train and still fell around her legs. 

"The Cyrans are going to be upset since all their hard work went to waste," Brennon said. "But I personally like it."

Elowen smiled. "I think I do, too."

Avangelique looked at her handiwork. "Maybe you'll start a new trend. The Cyrans badly need it. I tried being creative with my wardrobe a few times when I was a kid here, and the king had the guards frogmarch me back to my room and force me to change."

Elowen didn't miss Fletcher's father. She couldn't imagine growing up here in this household. Now, with Fletcher as king, Cyra actually stood a chance. Fletcher dedicated six months to reviewing all laws enacted by his father and establishing a council for kingdom decisions. 

Now, she was stepping into the kingdom as queen. Fletcher had redefined the role as overseer of treasury and income. She'd already helped him create a budget for the wedding that the planners were forced to stick to, and she'd managed the kitchen's unnecessary purchases where half the food was going to waste. Now, they only bought what they needed, and the excess was distributed to a needy children's home. 

A knock came from the door. Avangelique blanched and disappeared. Brennon opened it, and Lorenzo stood on the other side. He had shadows under his eyes, and he'd gotten into the habit of carrying his sword everywhere. 

"The ceremony is starting soon," he said. "And I heard Avangelique came up here."

Zaxten patted Lorenzo on the back. "You just missed her. Ze fairy took off."

Elowen could see the sadness on Lorenzo's face. She'd been worried about the prince. He'd taken to riding about with the rangers since his father's death, and he was always training with his sword. 

Fletcher had to give explicit instructions to the guards in the dungeons where Monique was locked up, that under no circumstances was Lorenzo allowed down there because he feared his brother might try to kill the former fairy that cursed them all. Lorenzo was a shadow of his former jovial self, and he had been since Queen Estefania told him that Avangelique was leaving. 

"Brennon, Zaxten, if you could escort the prince to the ceremony," Elowen said, and she gave her brother a look to make sure Lorenzo got to and stayed in his seat. 

She followed them out of the room. The palace was eerily quiet. They'd decided that the wedding would take place in the ballroom. Most of the guests were already seated. Fletcher stood outside the ballroom, greeting the final few visitors.

"Oh good," he said as they approached. "I was starting to think that maybe my bride was a no-show."

"She was hiding upstairs," Lorenzo said. "Did Avangelique come through here?"

"Zo," Fletcher sighed. "We talked about this. She's not seeing anyone right now, and we can't take it personally. Ava is trying to regrow the fairies. She'll come back to us when she's ready."

"Well, I'm ready now," Lorenzo said. "Fletcher, you just don't understand. You don't love her like I do. You never have. She's more than my best friend, and she left me. She wouldn't do that, Fletch. Not the Ava I know."

"I'm sorry," Fletcher said. "But you have to respect her decisions. She has her own people to look after."

"Come on, lover-boy," Brennon said. "Let's go find our seats." 

Elowen nodded at her brother for taking Lorenzo to his seat. Zaxten followed them, leaving Elowen alone with her fiance. She held his hand, and he pulled her close. 

"Have I mentioned you look beautiful today?" He asked. "I'm guessing that's Avangelique's work? The seamstresses will be disappointed, but I think this is an improvement. Are you ready for this thing?"

She smiled and breathed against his neck. "It's a big adventure."

"One we take together, my illustrious little baker," he said. 

They walked into the ballroom together side by side as equals. Avangelique was standing on the dais of the ballroom with her wings fluttering behind her. She smiled out at the crowd and at the couple before her. 

Elowen didn't remember much of the ceremony itself. Her wrists were joined to Fletcher, and she repeated a dozen vows to Cyra and to Fletcher. She would love him and serve him as his queen. She knew that in her heart, she'd do anything for Fletcher and, by extension, Cyra. 

When the vows were over, Avangelique raised their bound hands into the air. Elowen felt a surge of power move from the ribbon, binding them together with magic and all the love in her heart. Her affection for Fletcher deepened as she witnessed the love and acceptance in his eyes. 

"To the king and queen of Cyra," Avangelique said. 

Cheers and echoes filled the hall. Elowen watched as two crowns appeared in front of them and floated on their heads. Her forehead glowed beneath her bangs and heated as the magic flowed through her body. The weight as the crown settled on her hair was actually not unpleasant. She was a queen, and this was her kingdom. 

"To my love," Fletcher spoke so only she could hear him. "I love you, Elowen."

"I love you too, Fletcher," she said, leaning in to kiss him in front of everyone. 

His eyes widened in surprise, but his lips warmed to hers at once. She wasn't sure how long she floated on a cloud with his mouth on hers. It didn't matter, though. Fletcher was all hers. 

Finally, they broke away, and Fletcher let her sit on the queen's throne. He sat beside her, and she wrapped her fingers on their intertwined fingers around his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. She'd thought the throne would intimidate her, but with Fletcher by her side, it felt like home. 

The rest of the ceremony felt endless. Lords and ladies brought tribute to the king and his new wife. Queen Estefania and Nathaniel gifted them bolts and bolts of fine fairy silks spun by Saharite widows. Her father gave Fletcher an old fairy orb of supposed legendary power. Elowen noted to check with Avangelique later about the ownership of the gift. 

Music began, and wedding attendees took to the dance floor. Elowen was a little surprised when Fletcher stood. He held out his hand to her. 

"You know I've never danced at one of these balls," he said. "And I would be honored if my wife would join me for our first dance."

Elowen remembered how he'd stood at the edge of every ball. He'd always leaned on his cane and watched the dancers from afar. She'd never asked him to dance because she didn't want the attention, and she knew he couldn't stand on his own. Now that he was free of his curse, though, he'd gotten rid of his cane. 

She took his hand and watched as he lit up with joy. All eyes fell on them as they took to the dance floor. She half expected her body to heat with embarrassment, but she found instead she basked in the attention. Fletcher met her eyes, and he pulled her close. 

A slow waltz floated from the orchestra. The steps to the dance flowed from her memory to her mother's beautiful shoes. Fletcher led, and she felt like she was floating as they twirled and swayed across the marble floors. 

"You're a beautiful dancer, beloved." Fletcher's words brushed the cusp of her ear, and a thrill rolled down her spine. "Thank you for indulging me."

As she moved to the music, she found herself at peace. Elowen found solace as the queen of Cyra with her beloved by her side. Fletcher would always be there if he needed her, and she would feel like this forever. 

"We should dance all night," she pulled him closer. 

His heated gaze looked her up and down. "If that's what you really want, my queen."

Her heart melted all the way to her toes. Everything was perfect with Fletcher. She could make changes with the Cyrans. She was their queen, after all. If she wanted to shake up courtly fashion, it was her right. 

As her new outfit swayed around her hips, she danced like the most content girl in the world. The crown's weight would lighten with time. She'd been in love with Fletcher since almost the moment he ate her pastries in her mother's gardens, and she would never let him go.

"Oh, I do," she smiled. "Let's dance together until the stars fade."

He laughed and picked her up to twirl her. She flew in his arms, and she basked in his embrace. Then he pulled her close. The king and queen of Cyra danced even after all the guests had gone, too lost in each other to care that the party was over.