Once we reach the palace, a fae with translucent wings flies to us. Bowing his head while staying afloat, he says, "The Royal highnesses are waiting for you in the left-wing garden."

"Very well." I nod and he flies away. From the corner of my eye, I glance at Reese, who curiously gazes after the fae.

Not wasting another moment, I direct my horse to the left-wing, past the thick trees and plants with a narrow path leading to the inner ground of the Palace.

Taking the last turn, the Royal family comes into view. I gulp and push away my building anxiety. There's no way for them to have found out my intentions for coming here and I'm not their dead General's daughter.

The Commanding Lord's had glamoured the letter, and Norvick, to prevent the royals from noting the deceit. Sure, they're not as strong as the Royals, their magics aren't as pure as a Royal fae's, but if they've been treating me so well, it must mean they have no clue and it's impossible to suddenly figure it out.

I mask my worry with a calm face and slow down my mount's pace.

"Lady Audriea of house Redolfom," the same fae with the translucent wings announces, halting the royals from whatever they were talking about.

I stop as another man hurries to me, holding my horse as I climb down and walk the remaining distance.

I hear Reese's boots hitting the earth and his footsteps follow me from a safe distance behind me.

I bow before them.

King Cyrus is sitting on a gigantic chair, with the top of the backrest appearing like a crown. A poor girl with dark brown skin and hair that looks like it's singed holds a golden parasol above his head.

Queen Durgani is on his right and princess Fyla is on her right. The queen is donning a body fitting blue dress, the same colour as her eyes, while Fyla is wearing a bright green blouse, with its back long enough to brush the ground.

"It's about time we discuss your abilities." King Cyrus stars, motioning his hand at me. Taking the clue with deliberate steps, I stand across from them.

"And your responsibilities," Durgani adds, and flicks her hand at one of the dozen maids standing in a circle behind them.

The fae hurries and brings a chair for me. From the corner of my eye, I glimpse Reese walking around the Royals from behind them and situating himself a few paces away on Fyla's right, his amber eyes sparkling with intrigue.

I plant myself on the plush chair and intertwine my hands before me.

Before any of them gets the chance to speak, Valoukai walks to the field from the other end, evident he's coming from the palace. His white blouse is loose and the collar's ties have not been knotted, causing his collar to be open wide, showing off half of his chest as he approaches us.

"Father," he curtly says, dipping his chin.

Cyrus nods in response and Valoukai spins, heading to the clearing a few paces behind me.

Upon closer inspection, I note the boxes placed around the wide circular place and three faes are carrying wooden boards. Sunlight glints off of the silver swords and daggers.

My frown deepens as I study them.

A bulky fae, with rust-coloured skin, with a giant bald head and beady with a nose that takes half of his face, rolls his shoulders back, bouncing on his heels on the edge of the clearing. Once the faes place the wooden boards on the ground, he grabs a long sword and from the strain on his girthy arm, it's obvious the sword is heavy.

Valoukai doesn't waste any time snatching the sword from the fourth fae carrying it behind him.

His long sword is almost the same size as the claymore sword of the bulky fae.

They circle each other, holding up their swords in a fighting stance. I squint at them, noting every little detail about Valoukai's way of moving his body.

The first and most important factor in winning any fight is to know your opponent. The more the better.

"Audriea," Cyrus calls, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from snapping at him.

Reluctantly, I twist on my seat and turn to him, plastering a fake pleasant smile.

"As you know, General Morandos, your late father, was one of the few faes who could manipulate fire. Words have it, you possess the same capability. Is it true?"

I gulp and hold his gaze with ease as I craft my answer, ignoring the sound of silver clashing with silver coming from behind me. As a half-blood fae, I'm not supposed to have any of these gifts, but the Commanding Lords each came from a different court and each of them luckily has the rare abilities some of the normal folk possess.

While we were training, to everyone's great surprise, we discovered I can manipulate air, create wind and take the weather into my control. No other half-blood has ever been seen to be able to do that. Rageni's guess is my mother might have been a powerful lord's daughter.

The Commanding Lords found a trainer for me, and after I mastered the skill, each of them gifted me with their own possession. Lord Harvez gifted me with Earth powers, Lord Arberton with water, and Lord Clyton with fire.

When I withstood all the power and mastered them, it left everyone bewildered. No one has seen or even heard of anything like this before.

They tried with other half-blood faes but after a while, they lost the gift and had to be given again. Afterwards, it was of no question I'm the best candidate for being sent here.

I suppress my smug smile and reply, "I have been gifted with that power."

His amber eyes light up and Durgani nods with approval on his side. Fyla twirls a strand of her long auburn hair between her mauve fingers, slightly tilting her head to one side.

Cyrus flicks her fingers and, as though the fire is born from the friction between his fingers, dances around his palm. "Go ahead, show us how well you can control it."

He sends the small flame to me and stops it an arm's length away from me, letting it hover mid-air.

I raise my hand, even though I'm practised enough to be able to manipulate without needing to lift a muscle, just glancing at it will bow it to my demands. But these people don't need to know that.

In a gentle motion, I move my hand up and down, waving my fingers as though preparing to take part in a delicate dance.

Upon my wish, a thin strand of flame parts from the small ball of fire. The thin line of flame swirls around as it glides upwards. I'm extra cautious to not accidentally add a fire of my own to the flicker as I command it to move around in a wider circle above the Royals' heads. The tips of my fingers begin to tingle, a sense as familiar and calming as a mother's embrace.

I return the flame to the ball of fire, stealing a glance at their faces and ignoring the satisfaction swelling in me. It's so easy to fool them.

I shape the tongues of flame to flowers, petals, and thorny veins of a rose as I make it dance around all of us, being careful not to let it come close to me.

Sure, Lord Clyton glamoured me, so I won't get burned. I can't risk it. I'm not sure how strong Clyton is compared to Cyrus.

A single error means instant death.

"Marvellous," Cyrus breathes out as he gazes with wide eyes at the flowers made of fire.

"You're a perfect fit for a queen." Durgani smiles at me.

I bow my head.

King Cyrus snaps his fingers, and the flame vanishes.

"How well have you been versed in other arts?" Fyla asks, her chirping voice holding a note of wonder, but her eyes glint with mischief.

The shuffling sound of feet nearing us makes me turn.

I have to bite back a groan as Torilia sashays to us. Her teal-coloured hair is wide open and flying around her.

I glance at Fyla and the small twitch of her lips in a smirk is all the answer I need.

"Your majesties," Torilia says, bowing deep before them. The sheer blue layers of her dress move aside to show her naked olive abdomen.

Cyrus ignores her entirely, and Durgani purses her lips and curtly nods at her.

She places herself next to Reese.

"Fyla is right. Can you fight?" Durgani asks, setting her blue eyes on me.

"Of course she can, but the question is, how well can you fight?"

"Good enough to be certain my father would have been proud if he had been given a chance to see me," I answer, gulping away the bitterness settling on the back of my throat. If you people had allowed him to see me grow up... his radiant face flashes before my eyes for a moment and the familiar dull ache in my heart intensifies.

I wonder what he would have thought of me after knowing what I've become. A deceiving woman, sent to bring down a court.

But my answer satisfies them.

"We must see," Cyrus claims. Shifting on his seat, he calls out, "Val, come here."

I frown in confusion.

"Do you need to change your attire or are you comfortable fighting in those?" Durgani asks.

"Uh-I- I guess it's fine," I stammer as I get to my feet. The leather trousers are well-fitting, making them easy to move around and the sleeveless white blouse should do too.

I run my hand over my shirt as Valoukai nears us with a brooding face.

"I want you two to spar," Cyrus announces.

"What?" Valoukai's shout serves our combined surprise as I gape at Cyrus.

"Cyrus, dear, don't you think-" Durgani starts but he shakes his head.

"No, I want to see how strong she is. And weren't you the one saying the girl who shall wed our son ought to be his equal?"

Fyla's blue eyes light up and she straightens on her spot, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. "Mother, Father is right. Let's see how strong she is." She smiles at me before glancing at Torilia's scowling face.

Reese crosses his arms in front of his chest, his amber eyes glowing like never before. "How about we make it three rounds and announce a winner?"

"Yes!" Cyrus agrees with a ridiculous amount of excitement.

"And what shall the winner receive?" Fyla wonders aloud.

"One thing of their choice, whenever they desire," I say and whirl around to meet Valoukai's glacial glare. "What do you say, Prince, do we have a deal?" I hold out my hand.

A few faint gasps from the faes standing farther away come but I pay them no heed and quirk an eyebrow.

Perhaps I'm being reckless, but if I win, it can be good leverage.

Valoukai grits his teeth and glowers at my hand before meeting my gaze. "Fine," he growls and accepts my hand. "We have a deal."

A hot burning sensation erupts around my palm signalling the pact has been magically finalised.

I coyly smile at him as his warm hand lets go of mine.

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