Cresting a gentle slope beyond the lake, the Spring Land Acropolis came into view, its magnificence taking Renya's breath away. It was as if she had stepped into a vision of Ancient Greece, reimagined and brought to vibrant life. Before them stood an enormous palace, its ivory columns reaching towards the sky. At its base, nestled between twin columns supporting a burnt orange roof, sprawled an open-air market that assaulted the senses with a riot of colors, scents, and sounds.

The air was heavy with the aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg, cloves and citrus, creating an intoxicating blend that made Renya's head spin. Her eyes darted from stall to stall, trying to take in every detail of this feast for the senses.

A grand marble staircase led up to the acropolis, its handrails interspersed with exquisitely carved stone figures. Renya's eyes widened as she recognized some of the statues—Diana the huntress with her quiver of arrows, Dionysus with his overflowing wine glass. The presence of these Greek deities made her wonder just how intertwined the human and fae worlds truly were.

As they ascended the stairs, the sounds of the marketplace surrounded them. Children's laughter mingled with the animated bartering of shopkeepers and customers, creating a tapestry of noise that spoke of life and vitality.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Renya found herself in the heart of the marketplace. A fruit vendor's stall caught her eye, its wares a mix of familiar and utterly foreign produce. Alongside recognizable apples and pears sat what appeared to be purple and green oranges, and star-shaped fruits in every color imaginable.

Across from the fruit stand, a silk merchant displayed his wares—an array of fabrics so fine and varied that Renya had never seen their like. Gauzy cottons light as air hung beside heavy brocades and sumptuous velvets. Hats adorned with delicate veils and crowns woven with fresh flowers completed the display. Renya couldn't help but think of Selenia, imagining her friend's delight at such a treasure trove.

Though she longed to linger, to sample the exotic fruits and run her fingers over the fine fabrics, Renya hurried to keep pace with Grayden and Phillippe's long strides. Cyrus walked at a more sedate pace, and she fell into step beside him.

“We have a similar market in the Sun Realm,” he told her, his eyes following a woman carrying a tray laden with sugar-spun pastries.

“Really?” Renya asked, her gaze drawn to a turquoise, flower-shaped cake that made her mouth water. “Is it really just cloaked?”

Cyrus nodded, a hint of weariness creeping into his voice. “It is. It takes large amounts of my magic to keep it hidden, which is why I'm currently no match against Cressida. Luckily it held when I was trapped in the human realm, but the strain aged me greatly. Between cloaking the Sun Realm and the Snow Lands when we arrive, I'll pretty much be overextended. Even when and if we lower the cloaking, it will take some time to gain back my powers. That's why we desperately need your aunt. Between the two of you, I think you'll be able to take on your mother and her army.”

Renya felt her stomach clench, anxiety bubbling up at the thought of the inevitable confrontation with Cressida. The weight of the prophecy settled heavily on her shoulders—she would be her mother's downfall, but at what cost? She had thought sacrificing herself in the Twilight Kingdom would fulfill her role, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.

“Is something the matter, dear?” Cyrus asked, his face lined with concern as he studied her.

Renya forced a smile, not wanting to burden him with her fears. “I'm fine. Just nervous about what's to come.”

Her father took her hand in his, patting it gently. “All will be alright,” he assured her, his voice warm with affection.

The simple gesture brought tears to Renya's eyes. While Grayden was her protector, confidant, best friend, and lover, having a father was something she had never truly realized she was missing. The sudden rush of emotion caught her off guard, and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

Grayden glanced back over his shoulder, catching Renya's eye. A small, understanding smile played at his lips, and through their bond, she felt his happiness for her newfound connection with her father.

As they approached another set of columns, even more intricate and impressive than the last, two guards stepped out from their posts. These pillars were a work of art in themselves, the stone carved in spiraling circles with miniature figures of animals—both mythical and real, or perhaps all real in this realm—placed at regular intervals.

The guards were imposing figures in their loose tunics and black leather trousers. Their boots were crafted from supple leather, and instead of swords, each carried a bow with a quiver of arrows slung across their back. Both men sported long, flowing hair—one brown, one blond—adding to their ethereal appearance.

“We are here to see Queen Samatra and King Thesand,” Grayden announced, his voice carrying the authority of his position. “I'm King Grayden of the Snow Lands.”

“So, you gave yourself a promotion, did you?” Phillippe teased, earning himself an elbow to the ribs and a glare from his brother.

Grayden cleared his throat, addressing the guards once more. “Please let them know we are here.”

The guards bowed low in unison before straightening. “We'll take you to the receiving room,” the blond guard said, his tone respectful.

As they followed the guard deeper into the Acropolis, Renya marveled at the architecture. While the marketplace had been open to the elements, this section—which she assumed housed the royal family's quarters—was more enclosed. However, large windows and terraces allowed ample light to flood the space, creating an airy, open feel.

The receiving room they were led to reminded Renya of an enormous parlor. Chaises were arranged around wooden tables, and flowers adorned every available surface. The floral scent was intense but enchanting, a symphony of fragrances that tickled her nose. Several of the blooms were larger than her head, some standing nearly four feet high.

One arrangement, in particular, caught Renya's eye from across the room. It was a massive bloom, its petals forming a perfect circle with every shade of blue imaginable, like a pantone blue rainbow. She resisted the urge to cross the room for a closer look, reminding herself of the gravity of their situation.

The guard directed them to a low table surrounded by four chairs. “They will be with you shortly,” he said before turning to rejoin his companion at the entrance.

Renya took in the circular room, her eyes drawn to the soaring ceiling several stories above. Every sound echoed in the vast space, prompting them all to remain silent, not wanting their voices to carry.

Don't worry, everything will befine, Grayden's reassuring voice sounded in her mind. Renya smiled, drawing comfort from his unwavering support.

“Renya!” A familiar voice rang out, echoing throughout the chamber. Renya stood, her heart leaping with recognition.

“Esmeralda!” she exclaimed, surprised and delighted to see her friend. The two women rushed towards each other, embracing warmly.