Page 11 of Accidentally Ever After
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, the moonblooms in the pool were glowing so brightly they illuminated the entire grotto like daylight.
“That was…” I started, then faltered, unable to find adequate words.
“Indeed,” Caelen agreed, looking as dazed as I felt. His hand was still on my waist, his wings still partially curled around me.
“Is this the magic?” I asked, needing to know.
He shook his head slightly. “The magic may enhance, but it cannot create what isn’t there.” His thumb traced my lower lip, still sensitive from our kiss. “This is us, Blake. Simply us.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to surrender to the attraction that had been building since I first saw him at the wedding. But a part of me still resisted.
“I need time,” I said finally. “This is all happening so fast.”
To his credit, Caelen immediately withdrew his wings, though he looked reluctant to do so. “Of course,” he said, composing himself with visible effort. “I promised not to rush you, and I meant it.”
The loss of contact was both a relief and a disappointment. My body still hummed with desire, and the taste of him lingered on my lips.
“We should return to the palace,” he said, rising gracefully and offering me a hand. “The evening meal will be served soon.”
I took his hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. As we left the grotto, I glanced back at the pool. The moonblooms were slowly closing again, their glow dimming, but several remained open, tracking our movement like silent observers.
The walk back to the palace was quiet, both of us lost in thought. Occasionally our hands or arms would brush, sending smaller versions of that electric current through me each time.
What am I doing?I wondered.Kissing fairy princes in magic gardens? I should be looking for a way home, not… whatever this is.
But as we reached the palace and Caelen turned those incredible eyes on me once more, I had to admit—maybe being stuck in the fairy realm wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened to me after all.
“Until dinner?” he said, more question than statement.
I nodded, already anticipating seeing him again despite my better judgment. “Until dinner.”
As I watched him walk away, wings slightly extended in what I was beginning to recognize as contentment, I realized I was in serious trouble. Because fairy magic or not, I was definitely starting to fall for Prince Caelen.
Chapter 3
“The proper greeting for a lesser noble is a quarter bow, maintaining eye contact,” Instructor Thaelon droned, demonstrating with the stiffness of someone who’d been teaching the same material for several centuries. “For those of equal rank to yourself—which, as consort to the prince, includes only the highest ministers and visiting dignitaries—a slight incline of the head is sufficient.”
I mimicked the movement, trying not to yawn. We’d been at this for three hours already, and my brain felt like it was leaking out my ears.
“No, no, Consort Morgan,” Thaelon sighed, his pale blue wings twitching in disapproval. “The angle is critical. Too deep and you diminish your station; too shallow and you give grave offense.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, not for the first time. “How about I just wave and say ‘what’s up?’”
Thaelon looked horrified. “Absolutely not!”
It had been a week since my arrival in the Autumn Court, a week since the moonbloom grotto and that kiss that still invaded my dreams. Caelen had been true to his word about not rushing me, but also determined that I learn how to function at court without causing an international incident. Hence, daily lessons with Instructor Thaelon, the court’s etiquette master and possibly the most boring fairy in existence.
“Let us move on to proper wing greetings,” Thaelon continued, extending his gossamer blue wings. “While you lack wings yourself, you must understand their language to interpret the intentions of those around you.”
This, at least, was interesting. I’d been fascinated by how expressive fairy wings were—how they reflected emotions their owners’ faces might conceal.
“Wings held high and fully extended indicate aggression or territorial display,” Thaelon explained. “Folded tightly against the back suggests submission or deference. A partial extension, like so—” he demonstrated, “—indicates interest in conversation but maintained personal boundaries.”
“What about when they kind of… flutter?” I asked, thinking of how Caelen’s wings sometimes trembled when we were close.
Thaelon’s face took on a pinched expression. “That would depend on the context. In formal settings, it could indicate impatience or disagreement. In… personal situations… it might suggest other emotions not appropriate for this lesson.”
I bit back a smile. “Got it.”
