Evelyn POV
As the wood crackled in the fireplace, Evelyn sat curled up on the sofa with warm blankets wrapped tightly around her. Lately, since her power had begun to slip away, she found herself growing colder at night. Wrapped in warmth, she stared into the flames, lost in thought.
She couldn't help but reflect on her life—on the choices she had made, and the moments she wished she could change.
If she could turn back time, maybe things would have been different. Maybe she would still have her husband. Maybe Willow would have grown up with a father.
Pulling the blanket closer around her, Evelyn tucked her legs beneath her and sank deeper into the sofa. That was when she heard the soft creak of the door opening. She turned her head slightly, expecting a servant or one of the guards—but instead, she saw her daughter enter the room, her face aglow with excitement.
"Mother! I'm so glad you're still awake," Willow said, practically glowing. "I have some good news!"
Evelyn frowned slightly, surprised by her daughter's enthusiasm at such a late hour. Her eyes followed Willow as she came to sit beside her on the sofa. There was a spark in Willow's green eyes, a light so full of wonder and joy that Evelyn's curiosity quickly turned into concern.
"What good news do you have, my dear?" Evelyn asked, sensing the bubbling energy inside her daughter like it might burst at any moment.
"Me and Everest… we're going to do it," said Willow, her eyes shining. "We're getting married!"
A gasp escaped Evelyn's lips.
"What?" she breathed, her eyes wide in shock. Willow was only eighteen.
"Did I hear you right?" she asked again, hoping she had misunderstood.
But Willow nodded, her smile growing brighter, her cheeks flushing with color. "I'm serious, Mother. Me and Everest love each other. We want this—we're ready."
Evelyn stared at her daughter in stunned silence. She had just spoken to her brother about this earlier today, but she never imagined it would truly happen—not so soon. Her little girl, her baby, was getting married.
She felt Willow's warm, feminine hand take hers gently. "Are you happy for me and Everest?" Willow asked softly.
Evelyn took a deep breath, collecting herself. Her eyes met Willow's, and slowly a smile spread across her face.
"I am," she said quietly, nodding. "You just caught me a little off guard," she admitted, giving Willow's hand a tender squeeze. "But yes… I'm happy for you."
Tears welled up in Willow's eyes, her hazel-green gaze shimmering in the soft glow of the firelight. Evelyn let go of her hand and brushed a lock of brown hair behind her daughter's ear.
"I can't believe my little girl has grown up so fast," she whispered. "Every day you become more of a beautiful woman."
She pulled her daughter into her arms and held her tightly. Tears slid down her cheeks in silence as she embraced her. It was the most wonderful news—news she hadn't expected, but that she had longed for in her heart. And now, seeing her daughter so full of life and joy, Evelyn knew… she was going to be okay.
Everest POV
When Everest arrived at the elven castle, he found his family gathered around the dining table, enjoying supper. The white-stone castle stood hidden across the stream, nestled in the mountains of the forest. The room buzzed with chatter and laughter as warm aromas of cooked meats and spices filled the air.
A smile crossed his face as he stepped in and saw everyone feasting.
"Everest, son, you made it!" his father called out, mid-bite into a roasted turkey drumstick.
His younger sister, Ella, spotted him and immediately jumped up from her seat. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. Everest chuckled as he embraced her back. Ella was only seven and looked up to him greatly since their mother passed away after giving birth to their youngest sibling, Olwë.
"I'm so glad you're here," Ella said, letting go.
Everest smiled warmly. "I'll always come home. I'll never leave you all."
Ella nodded, kissed his cheek, and scampered back to her seat.
"So where have you been?" his brother Driven asked from across the table.
Everest's gaze fell on Olwë, who was in his baby chair, covered in food as usual — cheeks smeared, clothes messy, his hands sticky with gravy. Everest shook his head with a grin and walked to the table, taking an empty seat.
"I was with the Vila Fairies," Everest replied, picking up his plate and beginning to serve himself.
"How's Queen Evelyn?" asked Tyron, his father.
Everest paused for a breath. "She's doing well, I suppose."
As he finished dishing up and settled back into his seat, he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He had to tell them. Willow had said yes — she was serious, and so was he. Even if she was younger, their bond was real.
"There's something I need to tell you," he said, taking a deep breath as all eyes turned to him.
"I asked Willow to marry me… and she said yes."
The room fell utterly silent.
Ella's mouth dropped open, her fork falling to the table with a soft clink. Everest's heart pounded, but he stayed calm. This was his choice — his future.
"You asked Willow to marry you?" his father repeated, trying to absorb the news.
Everest nodded, swallowing hard. "We've known each other almost our whole lives. I can't imagine anyone else. I want her to be my wife."
"You asked a fairy to marry you?" Driven said sharply. "Why not one of our kind?"
Everest clenched his fists under the table, biting back his anger. "One of our kind?" he echoed through gritted teeth. But his father intervened before tension could rise.
"There's no need to fight," Tyron said firmly.
His father's dark blue eyes met his own. "Son, are you serious about this? Marriage is sacred to our kind. We do not take it lightly."
"I know," Everest said. "I know Willow isn't of elven blood, but I'm willing to make that sacrifice. I love her."
Everest looked away as Ella's small voice rose beside him, her big blue eyes brimming with tears.
"Are you not going to live with us anymore?" she asked sadly.
His heart broke.
He leaned toward her, gently taking her tiny hand. "When Willow and I are married, you'll visit us all the time. I'll still be part of your life. Always."
He wiped away her tears and pulled her into a hug. "I'll never forget you, Ella. You'll always be my little sister."
After a long pause, Tyron finally spoke. "Son, if this is what you truly want, we won't stand in your way."
Everest looked up to see pride in his father's eyes, though Driven still scowled.
"I don't understand you," Driven muttered. "What's wrong with our elven women? Why marry someone from a different species?"
Everest sighed deeply. His brother had always clung to tradition.
"I know Willow is a fairy," he said. "But her kind — the Vila Fairies — are dying out. If we marry, her mother can pass on the power of the Vila, and Willow will become their queen. It's important — not just for her, but for the forest. Their kind is tied to our nature, and their survival matters."
His father rubbed his forehead, processing the weight of it all. Silence returned to the room, broken only by Olwë blowing bubbles at the end of the table.
Finally, Tyron spoke. "If you marry her, you will become king to a nation of women. You'll need your own castle — your own village. Some of our men may join the Vila to live there."
Everest nodded solemnly. "You're right. I'll start looking tomorrow for a place where Willow and I can build our new life."
Elijah POV
After supper, Elijah invited his old friend Dorian to join him by the fireplace for a cigar and a glass of whiskey. It was Elijah's favorite way to end a long day—one cigar, one drink, and good company.
The fire was already burning, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room as they entered. Elijah walked over to the wooden liquor cabinet and retrieved two crystal tumbler glasses. He poured them each a measure of fine whiskey.
"So, how are things at the kingdom?" Dorian asked, stepping closer to the fire to warm his hands.
Elijah set the crystal decanter back in its place, walked over, and handed one of the glasses to Dorian.
"Things are good," Elijah said with a nod. "My son Mathew is preparing to take my place soon. Then, perhaps, I can finally rest a bit."
He sank into the tall leather armchair, his glass in hand. From the small humidor beside him, Elijah took out two cigars. He lit them and handed one to his friend.
"Here—have one with me. Like the old days," Elijah said with a nostalgic smile.
Dorian chuckled, accepting the cigar. "Like the old days," he echoed.
Elijah settled into the other leather chair, set his glass on the small round table beside him, and took a long puff from his cigar.
"The last time we had one of these was when my daughter was born," Dorian said quietly.
Elijah took another puff, then glanced at his friend. Dorian's face had changed—shadowed, solemn as he stared into the fire.
"That day still burns in my memory," Elijah said softly. "Mathew was only three when that fire broke out in the forest of the witches. What caused it, we never truly learned."
Dorian let out a heavy sigh beside him. "You know how many times I've wished I could go back? To do things differently… to get my wife and daughter out. To save them."
Elijah saw the tears in his friend's eyes, the pain still raw after all these years.
"Why did you come back?" Elijah asked gently. "I know you left because the pain was too much, but what brought you here again?"
Dorian's eyes met his, and Elijah could see the weight in them.
"My daughter... if she were alive today, she'd be eighteen. But that's not why I came back," Dorian said. "My parents asked me to go with them to visit the gravestone we put up for them in the mountains. I came to pay my respects."
Elijah's throat tightened. He picked up his whiskey and took a slow sip, the burning liquid warming him from the inside. He remembered those dark days—the endless search for Dorian's wife and daughter, the silence that followed. Nothing had survived. The fire had consumed everything—fairies, animals, trees. Even the kingdom bore its scars. It took years to recover.
"You're welcome to stay as long as you need," Elijah said quietly. "The guest house is yours."
A faint smile touched Dorian's lips. "Thank you, my friend."
Elijah raised his glass. Dorian mirrored him, and the two sat in silence, sipping their whiskey, smoking their cigars, and watching the fire crackle and dance before them.
Willow POV
In the early hours, before the sun had fully touched the earth with its golden light, Willow was gently awakened by the soft clicking of a bird's beak at her window. She stirred beneath her covers, slowly adjusting her body upright, and blinked against the pale morning glow. On the wooden window ledge, a beautiful, colorful bird perched with something small in its beak.
Curious, Willow frowned slightly and rose from her bed. She padded across the room and opened the window, the cool air brushing her cheeks.
"Hello, birdy," she greeted sweetly.
The bird tilted its head, then leaned forward. Willow carefully took the small white envelope from its beak, and just like that, the bird took flight and disappeared into the sky.
A sense of wonder filled her as she studied the envelope. It was sealed with red wax, delicate and neat. She broke the seal quickly and unfolded the parchment inside. The paper smelled faintly of jasmine and was soft to the touch.
On the center of the paper, written in familiar handwriting, were the words:
"Meet me at the top of the place where we used to play when we were kids.
XOXO, Everest."
A smile lit up Willow's face. Everest .
The place he spoke of could only be the open field by the cliff, near the waterfall deep within the forest. Surrounded by white wild daisies and flitting butterflies, it had always been their secret haven—a favorite spot of the fairies, filled with laughter, light, and endless memories.
Taking a deep breath, Willow turned away from the window and began to get ready.
She chose her favorite floral dress, the one that flowed like petals in the wind, and placed her delicate flower crown atop her head, its blossoms fresh and fragrant. She looked like a being of nature itself—almost like her dear friend Flora, whom she reminded herself to check in on later today.
Once she was dressed, she stepped outside and, instead of walking, decided to take flight. With a soft rustle of her wings, she lifted into the morning sky, embracing the gentle breeze against her skin and the scent of dewdrops on the forest air.
The promise of seeing Everest again made her heart flutter. And as the trees below swayed and the field neared on the horizon, she felt like a child again—chasing magic, memories, and something more.
The wind brushed softly against Willow's skin as she soared through the forest, her wings slicing gently through the morning air. Soon, she spotted the clearing—their special place. She steadied her wings and slowed her descent, landing gracefully. Her toes touched the cold, damp grass, and the familiar scent of wild daisies filled her senses.
A smile crossed her lips as she took in the scene. Just like old times.
She, Flora, Everest, and his younger brother had spent so many carefree days here, playing and pretending the world was theirs.
Willow inhaled deeply, her eyes drawn to the sound of rushing water. The waterfall shimmered in the morning light, and she began walking toward it when suddenly—warm hands gently covered her eyes from behind.
She froze, heart skipping. Then the scent reached her—leather, early forest dew, and cinnamon.
"Everest ," she breathed, a smile already forming on her lips. She could never mistake that scent—it was his and his alone.
The hands slowly lifted, and she turned around. Her breath caught in her throat.
He stood before her, those deep ocean-blue eyes gazing into hers, the golden sunlight dancing across his long blond hair, turning it almost silver.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked, a warm smile spreading across his lips—one that nearly made her knees buckle.
"I just knew," Willow replied shyly. "Your scent... it's unique. It's you."
A faint blush colored Everest's cheeks, making him look even more irresistible. Her heart swelled with affection.
Without a word, his warm hands found hers, and he gently pulled her closer. She let out a soft, playful giggle as he wrapped his strong arms around her waist.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, time stopped.
"Do you still want to marry me?" he asked, his voice low and thick with emotion. A smile touched her lips, and her cheeks flushed as she looked up at him.
"I still want to," she whispered.
Her heart pounded so fiercely, she thought it might leap from her chest. And then—before she could catch another breath—his lips found hers.
She melted into him instantly, their kiss igniting a thousand butterflies inside her. Her hands found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if afraid the moment would vanish.
Their lips parted slowly, and he rested his forehead gently against hers. Willow's breath hitched as she gazed into his ocean-blue eyes, shimmering with sincerity.
"Willow," he whispered, "I love you."
She froze—not out of fear, but awe. No one had ever said those words to her. She had never had someone to say them to. But now, looking into his eyes, she could feel it—the truth in his voice, the depth of his heart.
And in that moment, she knew.
"I love you too," she whispered.
Then, without hesitation, she kissed him again—pouring every ounce of feeling into it, every bit of love and longing she had held back until now.
Everest was the first man she had ever told "I love you."
And she meant every word.