For the fifth time that week, a team of physicians walked somberly out of the king's bedchamber, shaking their heads and muttering quietly amongst themselves. They shared theories and predictions about what would happen to the patient that they had just examined, although none of them were optimistic. A few took the time to turn to the young woman sitting in a wooden chair by the chamber door, taking one of her pale hands in theirs and expressing their condolences. The woman nodded to each doctor that approached her, thanking them for their concern and asking if, truly, nothing could be done. Every man shook his head and told her what she already knew: the great king's fall during his battle with the terrible creatures of the moors had injured him too greatly, and that he was fading fast. He would likely not survive the month, and that the king had made the right decision in looking to his advisors to find someone to take his place as ruler of the kingdom.
Leila waited until the last doctor had left the hall before letting her composed façade fall apart. She buried her head in her hands as she shed frustrated tears, thankful for the temporary solitude. If others had been around her, servants tasked with caring for the ill monarch or the advisors that longed to snatch the king's title away as soon as his final breath left him, she would have had to endure others expressing their sorrow that her father was dying. Then she would be forced to act as if that was what was troubling her: the death of a man whom she had rarely seen growing up and who had treated her like a bargaining chip for power ever since her adolescence. It was only through her father's infamous temper and his constant war with the creatures of the moors that Leila had yet to be promised to some sickly prince or widowed old king. She knew, however, that with her father's death nearing, it would not be long until she would be forced to marry. How could she tell anyone that it was this fate, not the future loss of her father, that was causing her to weep?
After having a good cry alone outside of her father's door, the princess collected herself and rose from her chair. Wiping the final drops of moisture from her cheeks, Leila made her way towards her own chambers. What she wanted now more than anything was the chance to be alone and forget about the future that would soon befall her.
"I heard it was the demon that did him in. The Angel of Death"
Leila stopped in her tracks as she heard someone speak those words from a nearby hallway. It was clear to her who they were speaking about, and the young woman slowly crept around a corner and found herself peering at two servants who were having a hushed yet animated conversation.
"Don't talk such nonsense," a cook reprimanded the first speaker, shaking her flour-dusted apron at him. "The Angel of Death is nothing but a silly superstition."
"How is it nonsense?" The man speaking with the cook appeared to be a page. "Everyone knows that those demons exist out their in the moors. You can't say that one didn't kill the king."
"You sound exactly like those pauper children that run around with cotton for brains," the cook said, shaking her head in disgust. "There are horrifying creatures out there in the moors, yes. But it's foolish to say that there's one that foretells death."
"Tell that to Catherine! You remember her, the maid who worked here several years ago? She saw the winged beast flying the day her daughter died of smallpox."
"If one of those monsters did kill the king, then it was just eager to continue this war. That's all."
"But they say it was that she-devil that did it," the page argued. "She swooped down from the sky and dealt him that killing blow!"
The cook started at this, turning a bit pale. Leila shook her head, ducking away from her hiding place and continuing towards the privacy of her room. She had heard enough.
A soft rapping sound awoke Leila that night. She opened her eyes, blinking her dreamless sleep away as the sound worked its way through her muddled brain. Her first instinct was to turn to the door to answer the knocking, but once she was more awake the princess realized the tapping was coming from the window. If she had been fully awake, she might have been disturbed to hear knocking coming from the window of her room high up on the North Tower. As it was, she simply turned to her window and unlatched the lock before pushing it open.
The sight that greeted the princess would have made her shriek if it hadn't struck her by such complete surprise. Before her was a being that seemed neither human nor beast. It resembled a person at first glance, but then Leila saw the demon-like horns that grew in a curve on either side of its forehead. The princess stumbled backwards until she fell in an undignified heap ontop of her bed, and from her position farther away from the window she could see what allowed the creature to disturb her this high above the ground. Two monstrous wings grew from its back, and they flapped gently to keep the intruder hovering by the window. When the creature leaned forward and began to climb into the room, Leila's heart leapt into her throat and kept her terrified scream from escaping.
The creature straightened its spine as it finished ducking in through the window. It regarded Leila with an unreadable expression, the eyes in its head cold and unfeeling. Leila looked frantically around the room, looking for something to protect herself. The creature didn't seem to have talons, either on its hands or feet, but the princess imagined that she could be gored quite easily by those terrible horns. Before she could muster the courage to get up from her bed, the thing spoke at last. "I have heard that your father is dying," it said in a gentle and feminine voice.
Hearing the monster speak in such a voice took the princess by surprise, and the pounding of her heart finally began to slow. "You killed him," Leila said from atop her sheets, not so much making an accusation as she was stating a simple fact.
The creature seemed to expect this, and did not appear embarassed or ashamed by the truth that Leila spoke. "He threatened my kingdom and made an attempt on my life. The moors will be better off once he is dead, and I do not regret what I have done." Suddenly, the thing seemed to become aware of the state of terror of the young princess, and its expression became softer. "But I can apologize for leaving you without a father."
Leila thought about telling this strange creature that she hardly felt as though she were being left without a father, that sometimes she felt she had never truly had a father at all. The words that she had never spoken to anyone itched to come out of her throat, but she fought them down out of propriety. It would hardly be appropriate to reveal her deepest secrets to this curious stranger. "Who are you?" she instead asked
"Don't you know?" the creature asked, and Leila was surprised to hear it speak with a touch of laughter in its voice. "I'm the demon that foretells death."
"So you've heard the lengeds too?" Leila asked, wondering how a monster of the moors knew of the superstitions of the human world.
The creature's smile fell, and it turned away with a somber expression when it next spoke. "I had a … friend, once, that told me of the stories humans have about us fairies."
Leila had little experience with casual conversation, an unfortunate result of being raised behind palace walls, but she knew enough to tell that the winged thing in her room was upset with her memories. "What happened to your friend?" she asked, slowly standing up off of her bed.
"He is no longer a part of my life." The creature, no, the fairy, seemed less majestic and frightening as she spoke about this friend of hers. "He chose to end our friendship to pursue power."
"I'm sorry," Leila said, trying to be comforting. It puzzled her, at the moment and later when she would reflect on this strange evening, how she ended up apologizing to the one responsible for her father's death.
The fairy gave her an odd look then, apparently just as puzzled as she was. "There's no reason for you to be. I've made peace with his decision."
Leila again knew enough to understand that this was a lie. The woman, for Leila could now see clearly that this being was very much a woman, did not want to face her when she spoke about her friend, although she had looked her right in the eye when confessing to killing the king. Leila carefully approached her and reached to place a hand on her shoulder, but stopped herself. The sight of the woman's wings in the moonlight leaking in from her open window took her aback. Leila had seen the wings of birds many times in her life, but their wings had never been as large as the ones right before her. The feathers were sleek and shiny, evidence that they had been preened and cleaned with care. "Your wings are beautiful," Leila said softly. She moved to touch one of the fairy's majestic wings, reaching out with the hand that had meant to comfort her.
The fairy pulled away quickly, making Leila jump back. When the princess looked up, it was right into the wide and surprised eyes of the fairy. Eyes that were somehow brown and green and blue all at once. Leila suddenly took notice of the fact that she wore nothing but her nightgown while alone with a beautiful stranger, and the realization made her suddenly modest. She wrapped her filmy nightgown around herself and found a spot on the floor to stare at. A movement of the woman's skirts made Leila look up, and her heart stopped for a moment when she saw that the fairy had made her way back towards the window.
"Please," Leila said suddenly, stopping the other woman in her tracks. "Is there something I can call you?"
The fairy turned back from the window, peering at Leila over her wings. "I don't see why you would want to hear it," she said simply. "I doubt we will ever speak again."
That thought hurt Leila more than she could have expected. She watched as the fairy left her room just as she'd come in. The winged woman fell from the window, and Leila ran to the ledge to watch her fall, fall, then open her wings and soar off towards the moors.