Page 37 of Accidentally Ever After
“Beginning now,” Faelan said grimly. “In the Crystal Chamber.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said, following Caelen.
He paused, turning to me with concern. “The High Council is traditionally closed to consorts until they are formally presented.”
“I don’t care about tradition,” I said firmly. “This is about our bond. I should be there.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Very well. But stay close to me, and let me speak unless directly addressed.”
We followed Faelan through the palace corridors at a pace just short of running, passing startled servants and courtiers who flattened themselves against walls to avoid our hasty procession. The Crystal Chamber was in a part of the palace I’d never visited—a tower that seemed to be made entirely of clear, faceted crystal that refracted the late afternoon light into rainbow patterns.
Inside, the High Council was already assembled—twelve of the highest-ranking nobles from the Autumn Court, seated at a round table with King Orion at its head. Lady Ellaria stood at his right hand, a satisfied smile playing at her lips that made my skin crawl.
All eyes turned to us as we entered, conversations halting mid-sentence.
“Ah, my son,” King Orion said, his tone falsely pleasant. “How convenient that you should join us. We were just discussing your… situation.”
“So I’ve heard,” Caelen replied coldly. “Though I find it curious that I, as the subject of this discussion, was not formally summoned.”
“An oversight,” the king said dismissively. “Please, join us. Though I’m afraid your… companion… must wait outside. This is a closed council.”
“My consort stays,” Caelen said firmly, his wings extending slightly in challenge. “As this matter concerns our bond directly.”
Murmurs rippled around the table. One elderly fairy with silver wings cleared his throat. “The prince is within his rights, Your Majesty. Tradition allows for the presence of affected parties in matters of bonding.”
The king’s expression tightened momentarily before smoothing into practiced neutrality. “Very well. Be seated, both of you.”
Two empty chairs remained at the table. Caelen guided me to one, taking the other himself. I was acutely aware of the stares from the assembled council members—some curious, some hostile, a few seemingly sympathetic.
“Now,” King Orion continued once we were seated, “as I was explaining to the council, concerning information has come to light regarding the formation of the consort bond between Prince Caelen and the human, Blake Morgan.”
“What information?” Caelen demanded.
The king gestured to Lady Ellaria, who stepped forward with a scroll. “Our court historian has been researching precedents for human-fairy unions,” she explained, her musical voicecarrying easily in the chamber. “While examining the archives, she discovered this.”
She unrolled the scroll, revealing text in a shimmering script I couldn’t read.
“The Covenant of Seelie Bonding,” she translated, “states clearly that for a consort bond to be valid, both parties must enter into it with full knowledge and consent. Any bond formed through deception or coercion is inherently flawed and subject to dissolution by order of the High Court.”
My heart sank as I realized where this was going. Caelen’s hand found mine beneath the table, squeezing reassuringly.
“And your point, Lady Ellaria?” Caelen asked, though we both knew the answer.
“My point, Your Highness,” she said with exaggerated patience, “is that your human consort did not knowingly consent to the bond. By his own admission, he believed he was signing a catering invoice, not a marriage contract. This constitutes deception, rendering the bond invalid under ancient law.”
Murmurs broke out around the table again, some councilors nodding in agreement.
“If I may,” Caelen began, his voice controlled despite the tension I could feel radiating from him, “the initial signing may have occurred under unclear circumstances, but the bond has since been validated through multiple traditional channels. Most notably, during the Festival of Lights, where we experienced a full convergence, witnessed by hundreds.”
This revelation caused a stir among the council. Convergence during the festival was rare and considered deeply significant.
“A physical reaction does not negate the flawed foundation,” King Orion countered. “The Covenant is explicit on this point. Initial consent must be informed and freely given.”
“Then perhaps,” came a new voice from the chamber entrance, “we should ask the consort himself.”
All heads turned to see Lady Sorcha entering, her sunset-colored wings glowing in the crystal-refracted light. She approached the table with confidence, bowing respectfully to the king before addressing the council.
“Forgive my intrusion, but as Keeper of the Covenant, I believe I have relevant perspective to offer.”
