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Chapter Text

It was said that the king loved his first wife very much, his second wife not at all, and his third wife he absolutely adored. One could see it in the way he treated his children. 

His first wife died in childbirth, leaving him with Prince Augustin, who was raised in the palace and with every privilege. His second wife was a commoner whom he only wed, so rumor said, upon learning she was pregnant. Once she gave birth, he put her and her son in their own palace in the countryside, where Prince Caelum was raised. She died when the prince was twelve, and he remained in her palace.

The king’s third wife was Rosalia of House Perseid, daughter of the Duke of Perseid. She was young and beautiful, and gifted the king two daughters and a third prince, all of whom were raised in his palace, except for summers which they spent in the Duchy of Perseid with their doting grandparents.

King Justice al’Royce died near his sixtieth birthday, not long after his eldest son wed the ambitious younger sister of Rosalie Perseid, Veronica Perseid. 

Within her first year as queen, Veronica produced two sons, Altimus and Lucanus. While Altimus was older, Lucanus was by far the more gifted. He reached all his major milestones at a younger age, and learned to read and write before his ten-month-older brother. 

Four years later, Queen Veronica had a daughter, Alisia, as beautiful as her mother and twice as clever, so it was said.

Auri was taught all of this at a young age. It was important, as future Lady of Montessor and one not far from the royal family, that she knew the happenings of the royal family, and the lineage of her cousins. 

She was the daughter of the Earl Caelum, former Prince of the realm, and Lady Iunia, daughter of the Count of Jennings. She knew she would never get near the throne, but she was the closest age mate of the Princess Alisia, and so she would be called upon often.

Her first memory of meeting her royal cousins, Aurelia of Montessor was four and Princess Alisia was six. She stepped down from the carriage with the aid of her father’s strong, calloused hand. He smiled down fondly and she returned it anxiously, a gnawing pit in her little belly as he led her to face the three older children. 

They were eleven, ten, and six, all of them taller and more stately than she. 

“Your royal highnesses,” said her father, “allow me to introduce my daughter, Lady Aurelia al’Royce of House Montessor.”

“Why does she have the same surname if she’s of a different House?” asked Alisia, her voice still soft in the way of children with underdeveloped palates. 

“Because her father and ours are brothers, you idiot,” said the first boy in line, while the other tutted.

“Do not call our sister an idiot. Though he is right,” said the boy in the middle. “Welcome, Lady Aurelia. I am Prince Lucanus. My rude brother is Prince Altimus, and my sister is Princess Alisia.”

“Your highness,” she said, bobbing a clumsy curtsey as she had been taught.

“So you’re our cousin.” Altimus’s warm hazel eyes narrowed. “How old are you?”

“Four, your highness,” she answered, glancing toward her father to make sure she was performing correctly. He patted her hand.

“You’re a baby.” The princess made a face. “Why did they bring me a baby?”

“My daughter can read as well as you can, your highness,” said the earl. 

Princess Alisia’s brows rose. “She can read?” She turned, hands on her hips, toward the younger girl. “Can you really read?”

“A little,” Auri admitted.

“Hm. Maybe we can read together. My tutor says I need to work on my reading.” She tapped her chin. “Come with me. I’ll have Nanny fetch a book to the garden.”

Auri’s cheeks flushed red, and she nodded, letting the older girl take her hand and drag her away. “Goodbye, daddy!” she called as she stepped through the courtyard.

Thus did Auri soon find herself at a child-sized table set for tea. It was in the rose garden behind the palace, an absolutely darling setting for two noble girls to sit and read. Alisia had her nanny bring her a storybook and tested her on the words, beginning with the easy ones and slowly progressing from there until she was convinced of the younger girl’s prowess.

“And this word here?” she asked, pointing and thrusting the page toward Auri. 

“Apple,” Auri said confidently. She liked apples. She learned how to read that word from the crates the orchard brought to her estate in autumn. 

“Hm.” Alisia sipped her tea and considered her cousin. “I’ve decided. I like you. You shall be one of my ladies in waiting.”

“One of your what?” asked Auri, her brows furrowed.

Alisia clicked her tongue. “A lady in waiting. My mother has several of them. They’re noble ladies who attend another, almost like a servant, but not. You’ll see. You’re mine now, my first.”

“Alright.” Auri wasn’t sure what being a lady in waiting would entail, but she supposed this was what her father had brought her for, so it couldn’t be so bad. She was supposed to be company for the princess, and it sounded like a lady in waiting was exactly that. “Will we read a lot?”

“When it’s the two of us, yes. When my other ladies in waiting are here, I don’t know. We’ll probably have garden parties and the like. I will ask my mother.”

“I like to read,” said Auri, glancing down at the book left on the table.

“Do you like tea?” asked Alisia.

Auri nodded, her curled hair bouncing at the motion. 

“Good.” Alisia surveyed her. “You’ll have to wear all the latest fashions, of course. It’s important that ladies in waiting are high-ranking, important people, mother says.”

“I’ll tell daddy I’m your lady in waiting now,” Auri replied. “He’ll know what to do.”

“Your father lets you call him that? My father would never.” Alisia wrinkled her nose. “It’s undignified.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Auri tipped her head. 

“He’s a king! Your father is an earl. It’s so childish.”

“Oh.” Auri’s hands clenched in her lap. Her father had never said anything to her, so how was she to know. She listened to her cousin prattle on, her cheeks inflamed at her embarrassment, until the earl came to tell her it was time to go.

“Good day, Princess Alisia,” she said. “Thank you for having me.” 

Princess Alisia dismissed her with a, “Good day, cousin Aurelia,” and that was that.

It was not until they were alone in the carriage that little Auri turned to her father and asked, “Is it bad to call you daddy?”

He frowned, his fashionable mustache turned down in concern. “No, not all, my darling. Why would you think that?”

“Princess Alisia says it’s not proper. She says I should call you father.”

Lord Caelum switched his seat to beside his daughter, wrapping an arm around her. “You are not Princess Alisia. You are my very own Aurelia, and I love being your daddy more than anything in this world.”

“Really?” Her big blue eyes were filled with tears.

“Really, truly,” he promised.

She considered carefully, leaning her head against his chest as they rode the long road home. “I’ll call you daddy at home. So she doesn’t make fun of me.”

“Very well, if that’s what you think is best,” said the earl, stroking his daughter’s hair. 

She snuggled against him, happy to have resolved her situation, and promptly fell asleep.

Rarely did the girl see her two male cousins when she visited Princess Alisia at the royal palace, though she learned mostly what to expect over time. Altimus was a bit dismissive toward her, hot-headed at times; Lucanus was cool and polite. That was why the incident stood out so much in her mind. It was completely out of character for how she saw the younger of the two boys.

Auri was six. It was too cold to go out in the garden, so she was relegated to the sunroom, where the princess would soon join her.

It was the off-season, so rarely did any other children join them at play. Most likely it would be just her and her cousin. 

She had been lost in her book, awaiting the arrival of Alisia, and was not paying attention to her surroundings.

That was how Prince Lucanus stumbled upon her.

Her pale brows were furrowed, and she was chewing her lip and a very unladylike way. He supposed that she was still only six; girls didn’t start becoming young ladies until they were ten at least. He was twelve, and well on his way to becoming a gentleman. 

Long hair that reminded him of a sunset was left loose around her shoulders, pulled back around her face. He wondered what she was reading that had her so enraptured that she didn’t notice the second prince of the kingdom’s entrance.

“I should be offended,” he said, and the girl startled.

The book flew from her hand, and her cup of tea spilled to the floor, cracking as the creamy liquid poured around it.

Instantly, the girl was on her feet, “Oh no, oh no, no, no.” She patted at the tea with her kerchief and began to pick up the shards of porcelain with shaking little fingers. She hissed and brought her hand to her mouth, and Luca noted a streak of crimson.

She’d cut herself.

“Let me see,” he insisted.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” Cerulean eyes filled up with tears as she finally turned toward him. “I’m sorry, your highness, I didn’t mean—”

“Let me see, ” he hissed, reaching out a hand and wrapping it around her small, soft wrist. A bead of scarlet welled on her index finger, trailing down the pale digit. He watched, fascinated. When she attempted to squirm from his grasp, his hand tightened around her wrist. He wondered… With his free hand, he pinched the tip of her forefinger, and more blood pooled on the surface before beading into a droplet. She whimpered.

“Ouch! Your highness, that hurts.” His gaze flicked toward her, inspecting the streaks across her cheeks, the contrast between the blue of her eyes and the red that rimmed them. It was quite pretty in a way. Something in him wanted to keep making her cry. 

However, that was impolite. 

Realizing the lines he had already crossed, Lucanus grabbed his kerchief and dabbed at her finger. “It’s a small cut. It should be fine.” He dropped her hand and stepped back. “I’ll fetch a maid to clean this. Stand back. Don’t attempt to pick up any more of the porcelain.”

He left the sunroom and stopped the first servant he came across. “Lady Aurelia broke a teacup in the sunroom. Someone needs to clean it up.”

“Right away, your highness,” said the woman, immediately setting out with purpose in her steps.

He, on the other hand, wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Lucanus ascended the stairs to his room, dismissing the servant who attempted to follow him in. He flopped down on his sofa, trying to think.

He knew he was at a particular age, one in which hormones drove young men to think inappropriate thoughts about women (or sometimes, rarely, other men, so he had been told). However, he hadn’t been thinking lustful thoughts, certainly not about a flat-chested, prepubescent girl. Lucanus had felt nothing but amusement and perhaps a certain appreciation for the picturesque situation he’d stumbled upon before his cousin had cut herself. No, it had been the blood and her tears that had excited him. The way both had welled, the whimper when he’d hurt her. Those things in and of themselves were fascinating. He’d wanted more. 

He tried to recall moments, dreams, anything that had had a similar impact on him. Altimus was quick to point out a nice bosom. While he could appreciate the aesthetic, it did not have the same effect. It did not rouse his blood the same way this incident had.

He was not quite sure what that meant about him.

In the sunroom, Auri had her finger bandaged by a sweet young maid named Betilda. The woman wiped her tears and called her a darling, soothing her as another brought a fresh teacup for the child. By the time Alisia joined her, she had forgotten about the incident with Lucanus.

It would remain buried in the back of her mind for a very long time.

Chapter Text

Behind the rose garden was a well. It had dried up long, long before Auri had been born. When she first came across it as she tried to look for a suitable rose to join the bouquet she was picking for the garden party, she had only glanced in out of curiosity. 

It was, of course, empty.

At least, that’s what she’d thought. Then a voice had called her, “Little girl!” It had echoed from the well and she’d startled, jolted back around, and hung her pigtailed-head over the aperture of stone. “Hello?” She blinked down as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and then there was a slight gleam as the light shone on something.

A pair of eyes. Then teeth as the being down there smiled. Finally, she could make out the silhouette of a man. “I knew I saw someone!” he said. “Hello, little girl.”

“Hello, sir. How did you get down there?” She had not heard of a gardener going missing, nor did she see a bucket or rope in the vicinity. The man certainly didn’t look injured either; he was standing upright, just as she was.

His smile widened, white teeth on display. “I’ve been down here for ages. I think everyone forgot about me. But you must be a very special girl if you can see me. You’ll see me again, yes?”

“Daddy— my father says I shouldn’t talk to strangers, especially strange men in strange places,” she said, then gnawed on her lip. She had already clearly broken that rule.

“Oh, but it’s not as if I can do anything to you from this well, can I? It just gets lonely here with no one to talk to,” he replied.

Auri thought about that. It was a great distance from the bottom of the well to where she was at the top. He couldn’t feasibly climb it. Nor could he leap it. There was no way he could get out unless someone helped him. “Should I fetch an adult to help you?” she asked. “If you’re trapped—”

“No, no. It’s fine. Just promise me you’ll visit again.”

She squeezed the fingers of one hand with another as she considered. What was the harm? “Alright,” she agreed. “I promise. I need to go now, though, or my cousin will be cross with me.”

The man in the well laughed. “Go, then, sweet girl. I will see you soon.”

Auri stepped away, back to inspecting roses. The ones in her hands had already pricked at her palm and left little trickles of blood in their wake.

The next time Auri was able to visit was nearly a year later. She was nine now, and had begun growing awkward. Her hair, while still light enough to be the blonde of the royal family, contained more fire than any of theirs, and she did not have their tall stature. Even her father fit with them, unlike her.

She tried not to let it get to her, but sometimes she needed a break even from Princess Alisia, and so she took a walk.

It was only when she was within sight of the well that she remembered her promise.

Surely that man wouldn’t be there, right? After this long, he would be gone or bones.

Auri peeked her head over the side and called down, “Hello?”

“Well, look who it is. And I’d thought you’d forgotten.” He was sitting this time, but the eyes and the smile both gleamed in the shadows. When he stood, his face just barely reached the light, and she could see him somewhat.

He was very handsome, with hair blacker than the night, and eyes that she couldn’t make out from her distance. His skin was pale, paler than hers, but his lips were pink against the white of his teeth. She had never seen anyone as beautiful as he was, not even her aunt.

Her cheeks flared hotly as she saw him, and her tongue was heavy in her mouth.

“Is something wrong, sweet girl?”

Auri shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed, “that I took so long to come back.”

“I knew you would eventually,” he replied. “Tell me your name.”

“Aurelia,” she said, “but my father calls me Auri.”

He repeated the name, testing it on his tongue. “Auri, Auri. That’s very pretty, Auri. I like it. I shall call you that as well. Suits you, too, with hair like golden fire.”

“Oh.” She blushed. “What’s your name?”

“Call me Jack,” he answered, the smile never slipping from his lips. 

“Alright, Jack. Why are you in the well?” She had wondered this after the first time they met, until she’d become distracted.

Jack sighed and leaned back, his thumbs hooking into his trouser pockets. “Well, I was trapped.”

“Trapped? How?”

His shoulders rose. “It’s a long story. And I’ve been here alone for a long time. I’d rather hear about you, Auri. Isn’t this royal land?”

“It is,” she replied. “I come to visit my cousins. They’re royalty.”

“Would that make you a lady?” he asked.

“Lady Aurelia al’Royce of the House of Montessor. I’m lady in waiting to Her Highness Princess Alisia al’Royce.” Auri stood taller as she officially introduced herself. 

Jack hummed. “Where is Montessor?”

“To the west a little ways. My father is an earl and the younger brother of the king.”

“But you’re not only a noble, are you?” His eyes narrowed as he inspected her. “You have a way about you, something more.”

“W-well. My grandmother was a commoner. King Justin’s second wife, perhaps you heard?” she asked.

Jack tipped his head, blinking up at her. “I’m not sure I did. But if you have common blood, all the better.”

“Really?” she asked, perturbed by his attitude.

“Yes, of course. Royals are usually foul pissants. Commoners do the majority of the work.”

She giggled, covering her mouth as she did. It was rare for anyone to speak so candidly to her, as she was both nobility and a child, but she enjoyed it.

“Lady Aurelia!” a voice called from beyond the garden.

Auri glanced up, seeing a servant in the distance. “I must go. They’re searching for me.”

“Come visit sooner next time, sweet Auri,” said Jack. 

“I will,” she promised, then turned toward the garden, lifting her skirt so she could hurry.

This time, Auri did not forget. When she next visited her cousin, she made an excuse to go out to the garden by herself. She said it was for flowers for her mother’s grave. Guilt tugged at her, but she told herself she would gather a few afterward, so it was not quite a lie.

“Jack?” she called down into the dank well.

His smile appeared in the shadows. “Little Auri, hello, there.” He had an apple, though she did not know how. Apples were not yet in season. However, he had a shiny red one in-hand, throwing it up to catch the sunlight and catching it in the same hand.

“How did you get that?” she wondered.

His smirk widened. “This?” He bounced it off his elbow and into his other hand. “Oh, I just happened to find it. Do you like apples, Auri?”

“Mhm. Green apples are my favorite,” she said.

“Green apples,” he repeated. “Green apples. I’ll keep that in mind. Should I come across any green apples down here, they’re yours.”

She laughed, suddenly and unexpectedly, and covered her mouth in embarrassment. 

“Don’t hide your laugh, little lady. A good belly laugh is nothing to be ashamed of,” Jack assured her.

“It’s not ladylike,” Auri confided.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Her lips quirked shyly. She liked Jack; he was clever and funny, and kind to her.

Then she thought of something. “You know, I asked my cousin about you.”

“Did you?” he asked. He took a bite of his apple, the crisp crunch of it reaching her ears, and gestured for her to continue.

“Alisia said this well is empty, has always been empty. When I asked her if she’d ever heard of there being a man in the well, she looked at me as though I’d gone mad,” Auri informed him. “She said anyone who fell in this well would probably die if they weren’t found by her gardeners.”

“Mhm, mhm.” He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “I suppose she’d usually be right. But I’ve been down here longer than her gardeners have been around.”

“Have you never asked any of them for help?” she asked.

“Can’t say as I have.”

Auri’s brows furrowed, mouth turned down. She couldn’t understand him. Why did he stay down in the well when he could get someone to help him leave? Perhaps it was some strange punishment. Perhaps he’d get in trouble if he didn’t stay in the well. 

“Do you get bored?” she asked, curious as to what he did all day.

Jack shrugged and took another bite of his apple. He answered once he’d thoroughly chewed. “Sometimes. That’s why I like your visits, little Auri.”

“I can’t stay long,” she said. “I have to gather flowers for my mother’s grave, and then go back to Princess Alisia.”

“I suppose you ought to be getting on with it. I’m sure I will see you soon.” He flashed his bright smile up at her.

“Goodbye, Jack,” she called down.

“Goodbye, Auri.”

Chapter Text

Auri became an orphan three months after her tenth birthday. It was a hunting accident, she was told. 

It had begun as a normal spring hunt. Earl Caelum of House Montessor brought his daughter to the capital to remain with her cousins, the other children who were too young to participate, and the ladies who would remain behind while the men went on. 

Princess Alisia, twelve and blooming into a lovely young woman like her mother, gladly received her. “Well met, cousin.” The two girls embraced.

“Your highness.” After the embrace, Auri dropped into a curtsey, which Alisia waved off. “Don’t be so formal today. I’m too excited. The boys will both be on the hunt this year.”

It was the first season in which the princes of the nation were of an age to hunt. The first prince had been a month shy of joining his father the year before, but now they would both go. 

Lord Caelum had been asked to go, as he was in years passed. He was not much for hunting, but as his daughter was a companion for Princess Alisia, he joined with his favorite mount, a sweet-tempered chestnut mare who was as reliable as the days were long. 

“Alright, my love, I will see you soon.” Lord Caelum dropped a kiss onto his daughter’s temple before mounting up. Auri thought he looked very handsome in his hunting coat, that it brought out the blue of his eyes. It was a trait they both shared, otherwise, his hair was more of the general blond of the royals, his skin more golden than hers. So she loved the eyes that they had in common.

“Have fun, father,” said the ten-year-old as she settled beside the princess at the table.

They would await couriers throughout the day for news of the hunt, as was traditional. 

It was not long into the day when the queen herself joined them, Veronica Perseid al’Royce. The two girls rose and curtsied, though Veronica immediately embraced her daughter. “My love, have you been waiting long?”

“No, mother,” Alisia answered. “Cousin Aurelia and I were just about to have our first cups of tea. Would you join us?”

Veronica gazed at the little table, its four seats set despite only two being occupied, and nodded, taking up one of them. “I shall. Will you pour, Lady Aurelia?”

“Of course, your majesty.” Unused to being in the presence of the queen, Auri was nervous, but she tried not to show it. She often poured tea for herself and Alisia; this should be no different. So she picked up the teapot and began with the queen. “Do you take cream and sugar? Or perhaps lemon and honey?”

“I prefer my tea with a touch of honey only, thank you,” said Veronica. She was so beautiful it was almost hard to gaze upon her. Her hair was nearly white, it was so pale, and her eyes also pale. Her skin was as fair as Auri’s. Yet all of her children had the royal golden skin and enviable green eyes. She wore green so that it brought out the yellow sparks close to her pupils.

“There you are, your majesty,” said the girl as she finished her pour and added a teaspoon of honey, mixing delicately. There wasn’t a single chime of metal against porcelain, and she was proud.

Veronica smiled. “Thank you, my dear.”

“And you, Princess Alisia? Will you take your tea as usual?” she asked. Alisia nodded, and she tended to her friend before moving onto her own cup.

Often they had a servant for these matters, but Auri didn’t mind pouring for herself. They had fewer servants in Montessor, so she did many tasks on her own. They did not have as much wealth as the royal family despite her father’s rank; her mother had not brought much from her family as it was a love match, and not one for political gain.

The cups were all pretty, gilded things with floral paintings on them. She felt quite ladylike sipping from one, and eating the crustless cucumber sandwiches that a maid had brought out when the sun reached its zenith. Auri ensured not to get mayonnaise on her gloves, letting the crumbs fall to the grass instead of on the pale blue of her gown. It was much plainer than the brocaded patterns that the two royals wore, but it was a light, breezy, pretty dress for early spring, and she loved it. 

Both the queen and the princess wore green, though Veronica’s was a pale ivy and Alisia’s was emerald, both heavily embroidered with gold. The queen wore a small tiara, while Alisia had a jade and gold hair comb holding back her ashen locks. They made a lovely pair, a matched set of beauties, while Auri felt like a misfit beside them. 

She hadn’t felt it when her father was with her, despite the entirety of the royal family being present. The two princes were both also very handsome, with their green eyes and their blond hair, mixtures of their father and mother, picturesque in forest green. But Caelum had worn grey to better match his daughter, and though he fit well with the royal family, it was also apparent that she belonged to him from the way she smiled to his clear dottage over her.

“When did your mother pass?” Veronica asked Auri when they had moved on to macarons. 

Auri set down the rose macaron she had just picked up. “When I was four, your majesty.”

“Ah yes, when your father asked if we might be interested in having you as a companion for Alisia,” said the queen. “She fell to pneumonia, correct? Such a delicate woman.”

“Father told me pregnancy was very hard on her, that she never fully recovered,” replied the girl softly.

The queen nodded knowingly. “They say girls steal all a mother’s youth. Alisia was particularly difficult on me. It’s why the king and I have chosen not to have more children since.” She reached out and touched her daughter’s cheek fondly. “Though I would not give her for the world.”

It made Auri wonder how her mother felt, if she felt the loss of her vitality was worth the scant few years she had with her daughter and her early demise. She had few memories of Iunia, but in all of them, her mother was just as loving as her father.

Iunia had been a woman with hair as bright as fire and eyes of cerulean blue. Her father said Auri took after her more than him. She was beautiful and vibrant despite her poor health. All of the memories Auri had of her felt touched by roses.

What would life be like Iunia lived until today, she wondered. Would she have joined them at tea with the queen? Perhaps she would have worn sapphire, and spoken words of love about Auri. 

As she mused on this, another courier came with news from the hunt. This one was hurried, frantic, unlike his predecessors. He swept off his mount in front of the queen. “There has been an accident. We need a healer and a medic.”

One of the servants took off at the queen’s gesture. 

“What happened?” Veronica’s voice was laced with concern. Her husband and sons were out there.

The hunting party itself was quick on the heels of the courier, and there was one horse that carried two individuals, the others all surrounding it. Auri caught a glimpse of grey amid the frenzy. She leapt up from her chair, slippers kicking up dirt as she tried to see better over the heads of the dismounting adults. 

“Who is that?” she asked as the men carried forth the injured one. 

She tried to peek through them, but they made a dense crowd. Auri ducked and hopped, skipped and dove as she wove through others to get a glimpse. “Father?” she called.

Altimus had the reins of his horse, so she went to the mare. “Your highness, where is my father?” He glanced away from her. 

“Father?” Her heart began to race in truth then, as her cousin refused to meet her eyes or speak to her. She tore back into the crowd. “Daddy?” Auri wove through a brief parting to see a blond head resting on a furred cloak on the ground. The healer knelt by his head. “Daddy!”

Arms encircled her, dragging her back.

“Get her out of here!” cried the king, who was forefront watching the proceedings.

Auri elbowed and pushed at the one who had her, hot tears beginning to track down her cheeks. “Daddy!” She didn’t care for propriety in this moment, didn’t care that her cousin lifted her from the ground, her dress flailing around her legs as she kicked in her attempts to get back to the man she’d seen on the ground. That was her father, the only person she had left in the world. “Please! Let me see him.”

“Calm yourself, cousin,” murmured a familiar voice. The arms around her tightened, bringing her to the ground so she could struggle no more. She saw a glint of green eye from the corner of her own, silken hair a similar color to her father’s. It was Prince Lucanus. “Let the healer work.”

She whimpered, attempted to push off his hold, but it was to no avail. His grip was tight. His father had given an order to keep her away, and he would obey it.

There was a murmur from the crowd; it was like the energy within it began to fade, a heaviness blanketing those surrounding. Eyes began to turn to the girl, where she was covered by her cousin’s hold. He slowly sat up, releasing Auri. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, fear coating her nerves and reluctance taking hold of her legs as she stood and walked toward the center of the parting hunters and other guests.

“I’m sorry,” said the healer, a youngish woman in the plain brown cloth of one dedicated to the forest gods. “There was nothing I could do. He was already fading when they brought him to me.”

Auri dropped to her knees, her small hands going to her father’s cheeks. They were already ashen from the loss of blood. He hardly looked like himself, yet she would know him anywhere. “Daddy,” she murmured, stroking his face as though to bring life back to them. She fell into his chest and wept.

“What will happen to her?” It was Alisia’s voice, filled with a sorrow of its own at seeing her nearest companion so distraught, and at the death of her uncle.

“She has a palace of servants,” said the queen.

“Should she not stay with us instead?” This was Prince Lucanus. “It isn’t healthy for a girl so young to stay alone.”

“Can she, mother?” Alisia sounded hopeful. “It would mean so much to me, knowing she’s safe and cared for.”

The king and the queen exchanged a long look. It was not a secret that the king and his brother had never been close. Moreover, his other siblings were often at the castle, and they had especially disliked his brother, commonborn, but closer to the throne than they. It was not until the birth of Altimus that they had ceased treating him ill.

However, the king adored his three children and would hardly deny them anything. And he doubted his siblings would much care about an orphan child who was several places removed from inheritance of anything but a mildly interesting earldom.

“Very well, as long as she doesn’t make trouble,” the king answered at last.

Thus did Aurelia move into one of the lesser quarters in the palace. It was still as nice as those she had at home, but could not compete with the princess’s for opulence. She hardly noticed either way, too bent on her grieving to see past the tears in her eyes.

Chapter Text

Aurelia soon became known for her long walks. She was a creature of sorrow following the death of her father, and spent many hours in solitude. It was on a walk perhaps a month into her stay in the palace that she decided to see if Jack was still in his well.

First, Auri glanced over the side and into the darkness. It was early morning, so no sun peeked into the well just yet. She stared down, wondering if he might be gone, or perhaps resting. If she might be about to disturb him.

“Little Auri, hello! What a pleasure to see you so soon.” His teeth shone in the darkness.

“Hello, Jack,” she replied.

She could not rightly tell, but she thought he might have frowned then. “Why so glum, sweet child?”

She sighed and laid her head on her arms. “My father died. I now live in the royal palace.”

“Oh, you poor, poor, girl.” The man stayed silent a moment. “I cannot imagine your pain. But know that I am here for you, and I will remain here so long as you keep coming to see me.”

“Why are you here, Jack?” she asked, fingers straying against the stone.

“Mayhap I’ll tell you one day, sweet thing. But let’s talk about you. How is the palace?” he returned.

Auri hummed and thought. “It’s alright. I miss home, and my father, but the princess is very kind to me, as is the queen. I don’t see the others as much.”

“Well, if we’re to be spending more time together, why don’t you bring a book with you now and then. You like to read, don’t you, sweet child?” There was a smile in his voice.

“Yes,” she replied. “I do. I would enjoy reading to you. Perhaps it would help you pass the time as well.”

“I think it would be marvelous,” he replied. 

“Then that’s what I’ll do.” Auri lifted herself to her feet. “I’ll bring a book next time we meet. Thank you, Jack.”

“Of course, my dear.”

Auri stepped away from the well, much cheered by her short conversation. It always seemed Jack lifted her spirits when they spoke. There was something about him. She touched some of the budding roses as she passed, happy to see the time moving forward. Soon, the garden would be in full bloom.

Then her heart sank as she remembered it was around this time last year when she delivered roses to her mother’s grave. She would be able to do that now, as her mother’s grave was on her father’s land, and she did not live there now, would not return until she was an adult and set to inherit. That was, of course, if she was not wed before then, going to her husband’s home instead.

“What has you frowning, cousin?” 

Auri startled at the voice, lifting her gaze from the closed buds to the figure in front of her. She hadn’t realized anyone had approached, but here was Lucanus, handsome in gold and forest green. “N-nothing.” Her hands went behind her back, her eyes widened. She felt as though she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t, though that was not the case.

He took the few steps toward her to close the distance, his hand cupping her cheek. “There must be a reason. You look sad. Were you thinking of your father?”

She glanced down toward his feet. “I was thinking… I cannot visit their graves. They are at Montesso. I would like to bring them roses when they are in bloom.”

“I am sure that can be arranged,” Lucanus responded. “I’ll escort you there myself if I must.”

“”You are too kind, your highness,” Auri replied.

“When it is just us, call me Luca.”

Her cheek warmed under his hand. He had never been so friendly before in their short interactions. “Luca, then. Thank you.”

He smiled, his thumb smoothed over cheek, then his hand dropped. “The roses should be in full bloom soon. We’ll have the May festival soon, and perhaps we can have your visit to the earldom after that.”

“I would like that,” Auri said.

“You’ll be handing out flower crowns this year, yes?” Lucanus asked, walking with her on the path back toward the palance.

Auri nodded. “Yes. It will be my first year joining the princess in that. I shall have to practice making them.”

“Make one for me,” he said as they reached the doors. “I will be sure to wear it.” 

“Of course, your— Luca.” She bobbed a curtsy and they parted ways, leaving her slightly puzzled, but far less sad. He had been so kind to her, and for no reason. Though she supposed that they were cousins and she lived in the palace now; they were bound to run into one another more often, and it made sense to be on good terms. 

Yes, Lucanus was known as the kinder of the two princes, while Altimus was more brash. They balanced one another well. It was already falling out that Luca acted as Altimus’s advisor, the level head to the latter’s temper. 

Altimus rarely acknowledged her presence when they passed, not that Auri minded. 

She rounded the corner, heading for her quarters, her thoughts much lighter than before.

The gown sent to her bedroom for the May festival was a deep blue, much darker than her eyes. It was quite pretty, with flowers in white embroidered around the neckline and the sleeves. She thought it would suit her well. When her maid came, she braided Auri’s hair into a crown for ease of placing her own flowers when she was finished weaving them. Once her slippers were on and she had a pretty gold chain with a simple sapphire teardrop necklace around her throat, she was ready to meet the princess and begin picking flowers from the garden.

Alisia was already at the area set up for the day’s festivities, adorned in a velvety pink gown that flattered her fair coloring greatly. “Auri! Good morning, cousin!” They exchanged a cheek kiss.

“Good morning, your highness,” said Auri, mindful of the company joining them for the day. There were young ladies of marriageable age down to Aurelia’s own. The elder were here in hopes of catching the eye of one of the princes, while the younger girls had been invited as a formality or because they were considered high enough ranking. 

“You know, there is only one bush of blue roses.” They were rare, as they were born of magic; the palace had a gardener with magical ability, and so he had coaxed the single bush into bloom. “I think you should be the one to use the flowers there.”

Auri blushed as she saw others take note of the princess’s proclamation. “There is usually only enough for one full crown. Are you certain, your highness?”

“Yes,” said Alisia, nodding her head in affirmation. “It will look striking with your hair and with your gown. I am sure.”

“Then I will endeavor to use the blue roses, your highness. Do you know what you will do for your crown?” Auri asked as they surveyed the immaculate rows.

Alisia pointed to a few specific flowering bushes. “I will do mine in those and those, and perhaps a few of those as well. Shades of pink, to match my gown, with a hint of yellow for the gold. What do you think?”

“I think it will look lovely on you.” Auri smiled and imagined a crown made up of the fragrant pink tea roses, the larger pink-and-white roses, and the pink roses with their subtle golden edge. It would be much lovelier and livelier than a simple blue crown.

There was a stir in the garden as the princes arrived. They were seventeen and sixteen now, and neither of them engaged. The May festival was a prime courting event. Young ladies would make flower crowns often for themselves or family members, and occasionally for the boys they might have a mind for. Or that was how it was done in Montessor. Auri, too young to take part in the festival proper, always made one for herself and one for her father, as many younger girls were wont to do.

At ten, she was finally an age where she was allowed to start partaking in basic festivals, though no one would expect her to have an interest in courtship for some years. Usually, that was left to the girls fourteen and older. 

Accepting a crown was polite, tactful. Wearing it was stating interest, or a familial bond.

Auri wondered whether her cousin would choose to wear the one she made for him this year. She took the clippers handed to her and went into the garden with the other girls, making her way through to the blue roses.

They were toward the back of the garden, which reminded her of the other project she wanted to accomplish. There were, as it turned out, six blue roses that were blossomed enough for use in a rose crown, and she plucked all six, then made her way toward a rose of crisp white. These, she picked nine of, and finally, she went to the red roses and found the darkest blossoms, the Black Magic Roses. Despite their name, they required no magic to grow other than sunlight, water, and grace. Three of these went into her basket, and then she finished with the roses and wound her way back to the tent where blankets were set on the ground and baskets of materials to weave the crowns dotted them.

She took a careful seat at one of these and began to weft together a crown of blue and white roses with a white ribbon. This one would be for her cousin. He’d worn black and white today, perhaps to allow for any color rose to be used. For his crown. Auri wondered who usually made one for him, whether it was his sister or whether he chose one from the many to lift for the day.

Altimus was already talking to one of the older girls, a crown matching her own on his arm. His eyes kept darting to her breasts. Auri smothered her chuckle.

“How many crowns are you making, Auri?” There was a flurry as the princess came into the area and settled beside her favorite lady in waiting. She had a basket brimming with roses. 

“Three,” she said as she put aside the first. It looked well enough, she thought, if a little simple. There were girls who put so much effort into them that, were they dipped in gold, they could rival the crowns of emperors.

“For whom?” Alisia’s interest rose as she began the second also in blue and white, this one with sapphire ribbon to match her gown. 

“This one is mine,” she replied. “The other is for… family, and the third is for–” She did not know how to explain without making herself sound mad. “The fae,” she settled on. It was not unusual to create gifts for the fae, and perhaps that was what Jack was. He’d given her such a common name, and he lived in seemingly impossible conditions. Surely, he was not a normal human. It may as well be true.

“What a devout girl you are, giving to the gentle folk.” Alisia smiled and began picking through her basket, admiring the blossoms. “I’m making one for father, and myself, the boys as well, though only Luca ever wears it. Altimus likes to flirt too much. And one for mother since she says they should be made by maidens.”

It was not long before she was on her third and final crown, and this one she wove with red ribbon. Auri thought it would suit her friend, and perhaps she would be able to see it better from the top of the well. She thought of her strange friend and how he lived in the shadows as she braided the crown together, white and deep red roses alternating. As she absently trimmed the stem on one, she pricked her finger, bringing the finger to her mouth on instinct. Auri blushed, glancing around to find everyone intent on their practices, and she turned back to her own task.

Once finished, she placed her crown carefully atop her head. “I will go deliver my crowns,” Auri told Alisia. The princess waved her away, and the girl darted through the laid blankets and to where the princes stood amid their group of young gentlemen who had secured an invitation to the festivities.

The crowd parted when they saw a girl with a crown, waiting for her to bestow it upon one of them. She was young, of the age most would be handing a crown to a brother or father, yet most of the young men who recognized her knew she had neither. Thus was it a surprise when she stopped before the princes and dropped into a curtsey.

“Prince Lucanus,” Auri said. 

“Cousin Aurelia, to what do I owe the pleasure?” His green eyes danced with amusement, a fair few crowns already hanging from his forearms, if not quite as many as Prince Altimus. 

She rose and presented him with the blue and white roses that matched her own. “I made this for you.”

“Indeed?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, as though he did not know he told her to make one for him. He bent toward her. “Would you place it for me?”

There was a soft hush as the prince proffered himself to the girl. With shaking hands, she placed the crown that she had made on his golden head. When she was sure it was set right, Auri stepped back. The prince stood up straight and smiled at her. 

“Thank you, Lady Aurelia. I shall treasure it.” Luca’s fingers brushed the petals of one of the roses. “It seems you have another to deliver. For whom did you make it?”

Her cheeks burned as she fiddled with the ribbons of the last crown. “It’s for one not entirely of this world, your highness.”

Luca’s amusement returned. “Go, then. I would hate to deny one of such power.”

“As you say, your highness.” She curtsied again, then walked through the garden, the scent of cut greenery hanging heavily in the air. No one was watching the garden now, all having gotten their flowers and intent on their tasks and the social implications of the day. It was easy for Auri to slip to the back, to the well that was lonesome behind the rows of roses.

Auri held the crown in her hands as she peeked over the side of the well. “Hello? Jack?”

“Auri, what a pleasure. My, don’t you look lovely today.” He appeared from the shadows, smiling up at her from the depths.

Auri played with the ribbons falling from her head nervously. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” Jack’s eyes gleamed. “What’s that?”

“Catch.” She tossed it lightly down.

He snatched it with careful hands and began to inspect the roses, the ribbons. “Is it May already? And you made Jack a crown, what a sweet child you are, little Auri.” It went straight atop his head; Auri had been correct that she could see the ribbons well.

“You look quite handsome,” she said, smiling down at him.

“Thank you, Auri. Tell me, are those blue roses I see atop your own head?” Jack asked, squinting up at her.

Auri nodded. “They are. I made both myself and Prince Lucanus crowns with them.”

Jack leaned against the inside of the well. “Prince Lucanus, huh? How old is the younger prince now?”

“Sixteen,” Auri answered. “He’s been kind to me during my stay so far.”

“That’s good.” Jack’s mouth was a straight line as he considered her. “And the others in the palace? I hear the king’s sisters, your aunts, come every summer.”

She had never met the women, nor her other uncle. The uncle had taken over the Duchy of Perseid, his sisters often staying there with him when they were not with their own families. 

They’d never had a desire to meet with Caelum’s daughter, had disdained their common-born brother. It was well known the former king had only married the woman because she became pregnant with another potential heir. With the births of three additional children, he was redundant.

Then he had wed someone of little noble standing and further dragged down his bloodline.

Auri knew what they thought of her, and did not look forward to meeting them.

“I suppose I will meet them in time,” Auri said, sighing and leaning her head upon her hand. 

“Just remember that you always have me here to discuss your woes, yes?”

“Thank you, Jack,” Auri said. “I should go back to the festivities before they come looking for me. Alisia will think me mad if she finds me talking to an empty well.”

“Of course, love. I will see you soon enough.” He waved up at her and she walked away, back to the tent where she had last seen her cousin.