The next day, I didn't want to speak to Doverel.
Not after what I had witnessed. Not after seeing how shallow she'd become.
She flitted about with a posse of fairies, her laughter and exaggerated smiles echoing across the courtyard. "No… anyone can do it too!" she chirped, flashing a smile that felt more rehearsed than genuine. Was popularity all that mattered to her now? Was she really that brainwashed?
This was Doverel—the same fairy who once mixed light magic with love spells, the one who had excitedly told me that love magic was like glue, something that could bind the soul. I saw potential in her, once. I thought she might be different. But now? She wasn't. She had chosen conformity. She had become just like the rest.
I was disappointed. In her. In Arisa. In all of them.
But maybe this was for the best.
With both of them too busy wrangling couples together with their frivolous spells and grinning for attention, at least they'd leave me alone. Doverel probably didn't even miss talking to me. She had her fans now, cheering her on, lifting her higher with each meaningless number she racked up.
And maybe that was what I needed—no distractions. Just focus.
I couldn't afford to stay weak.
Power didn't come to those who waited. It came to those who burned for it. Those who gritted their teeth and kept pushing, no matter the odds.
Rage.
Rage at myself for not being able to protect Edna.
Rage at the betrayal of my own kind.
Rage at being locked away and forgotten.
Rage at this ridiculous new generation of Love Fairies who thought their duty ended with a matchmaking score.
I would make my voice matter again. No one would dare ignore me next time.
So, I trained.
Day after day. Week after week. And still, that same Dark Fairy kept watching me from afar.
He never spoke. Just sat there—perched like a raven on the twisted branches of a poison apple tree, his presence as constant as dusk.
By now, I recognized him easily.
Curly black hair. Pale skin. Grey eyes that seemed to burn right through me, even from a distance. We hadn't exchanged a word. Maybe we never would. For a Dark Fairy, he had an unsettling allure. But it didn't mean anything.
I wasn't drawn to him—not in the way you might think. No. It was more like he was an enigma, something I couldn't ignore, even if I tried.
Sometimes, I imagined him as a twisted guardian angel—one I couldn't approach without risking everything. His kind were killers, after all.
Still, something about him felt different. Too calm. Too still. He wasn't like the others.
But what did he think of me? Did he see me as a threat, or just some curiosity worth observing?
His gaze had become part of my ritual. A silent, unspoken presence, like a distant star—too far to reach, too bright to ignore.
Too close, and I might burn.
Too far, and I might forget he was even there.
But I wasn't fooling myself anymore. He was part of this now. Part of the rhythm I had come to rely on. A reminder of the power I was learning to wield.
More than that, he was a symbol. A symbol of what I was claiming.
No longer bound by old titles. Not by crumbling systems or empty rituals.
We are what we choose to become.
And I was choosing strength.
I was ready.
But nothing could've prepared me for Arisa's nagging when I returned.
"Scarlette, were you on holiday all this time? Why haven't you reported making a single couple?" she barked, her voice grating against my nerves.
I rolled my eyes. "I didn't report because I didn't make a single couple."
It was plain. Honest. Brutal. And it shut her up.
Her face twisted in fury. "You'll answer to the King if you don't show progress," she snapped, storming off before I could say another word.
As if I cared.
She hadn't even blinked when Edna died. How could someone so high up in our system act like everything was fine?
Her threats meant nothing now.
If anything, they just sharpened my resolve. She had no idea what I was preparing for. None of them did.
They obsessed over numbers—over keeping the kingdom's polished illusion intact—but I wasn't playing their game anymore.
Let the King wait.
The real battle was coming. And when it did—I'd be ready.
If they thought I would bend, they were gravely mistaken.