As Doverel and I walked down to the palace courts, no words passed between us.
In the palace courts of the Love Fairies, each fairy took their turn to report the number of couples they had united in the past month. We queued at the back, standing in line. Then, she broke the silence.
"I know what you must be thinking," she said.
I paused, glancing at her. Was she onto me?
"I would feel useless too if I had only made one couple," she said, her tone oozing condescension. "If it helps you feel better, you have a nice dress. And if you tried not sitting on your hands next time, you could become the most improved Love Fairy."
I blinked slowly. "I'm so disappointed that these were your words to me," I replied, unable to conceal the anger in my voice.
Doverel ignored me entirely, turning instead to speak to the fairy in front of her. For some reason, I still harbored the foolish hope that someone might see how ridiculous this all was. How wrong.
"Yes, I'm sure you did your best," Doverel said, that infuriatingly pleasant voice of hers back in full force.
Then she turned to me again, her tone dismissive. "At first, I thought you were so full of potential, but did you even try?"
I sighed. Loudly. "Doverel, what happened to you?"
She tilted her head, smiling like it was nothing. "I decided to embrace my potential."
Then, with a smirk, she added, "Don't tell me you spent the whole day on Edna's bed being sentimental—when you could've used that time to boost your score."
My fists clenched.
Was this really Doverel? The same fairy I thought was my friend?
"You seriously think it's right to pair people together like this?" I asked, my voice cutting through the hum of the room.
"Scar, you can't say that," Doverel replied, her tone suddenly cold and mechanical. "There's an order to things."
"And we're just mindlessly following orders? Like chickens with their heads cut off? Come on! I am sure you see it too!" I snapped, rolling my eyes in disbelief.
"Say what you want, Scar. But this is why you're falling behind despite your potential. We have a duty. You neglected it." She said curtly, then pointed to my hair. "Also, the king's not going to like that hair of yours," she added quickly, pulling a headscarf from her pouch. "Wear this. You'll be in trouble otherwise. You know we aren't supposed to be near those purple flowers."
I glared at the scarf and tossed it aside. "Why does he get to decide what I do with my hair? He's seen it before—when he passed us the wands."
"Fine, Scar… be stubborn all you want. But really, no one wants to hear about your magic. The one you tried to show me." Her voice softened just slightly, but the edge was still there. "Someone needs to tell you the truth. I'm only warning you because we're friends."
"Friends?" I scoffed. The bitterness in my chest flared. "You ran off to the higher-performing peers the moment you had the chance!"
"You would too, if you were in my shoes," she snapped.
"No, I wouldn't," I shot back. But she just rolled her eyes in disbelief.
"Why should the king dictate how I use my magic?" I pressed, my voice rising. "Why should I be silent?"
A hush rippled through the queue. Other fairies turned to glance at me, eyes wide, whispers rising.
"You're making a scene," Doverel hissed, stepping out of the line to join a newer group at the back.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I could feel every pair of eyes on me. Oh crap.
Elder Arisa's eyes burned holes through me from across the court—disapproval, sharp and immediate. And the King of the Love Fairies… His stare was worse. Quiet. Cold. Unmistakably angry.
It had been just a little titter-tatter. Just a conversation. But somehow, I had ruined the harmony—the damned, pretentious, mindless harmony.
A small part of me wished I could take it back, but it was too late. The harmony was gone.
I had no idea what would happen next, but I was certain of one thing: I had just made myself a target.