Winx Confession #2: I absolutely hate Icy's new backstory. I check YouTube every now and then for season 8 clips and I happened to find a video that somehow got over half a million views in a matter of two short days. This was highly unusual considering season 8 is pretty unpopular with the fanbase (after years of letdowns, a lot of us gave up after season 7), so I clicked out of sheer curiosity and let me just say…what in hell, Rainbow? We've been waiting on a Trix Origins Story for over a decade now, and this is what we get? You can tell the creators put no real thought into Icy's story. They simply made her a reverse Daphne—she's even got the blond hair to match. I don't mind them making Icy a sympathetic character, but to go as far as to make her seem heroic? The whole 'home planet got conquered' idea doesn't align with the original storyline. Instead of aiming to take over the dimension, why didn't Icy go straight to her home planet after obtaining the Dragon Flame? Instead of seeking petty revenge over the course of season 5, 6, and 7, why wasn't she seeking out a possible way to break her sister's curse? At that point, Icy should've been strong enough to do it herself since literally every season involves the Trix obtaining a newer, higher power. It's no surprise the Trix aren't related by blood (never mind the fact the creator himself said the Trix were triplets) but at what point did they form an alliance? What about Stormy's and Darcy's backstories? This new development has earned a lot of controversy and frankly, I don't like what Rainbow did to the Trix, Icy especially. When you long at it, she's basically an evil version of Bloom now. I find Rainbow's writing to be disappointing and unimaginative. I can almost guarantee season 9 will end with something completely cliché, like the Winx forgiving the Trix.

XXX

A/n: It's literally been half a year since I last updated. A lot has happened to me since May, so I had to disconnect from my stories for a while. But now I'm back (hopefully) and with a chapter I hope makes up for my absence. Thanks so much for sticking with me; to my surprise, O Wondrous Wielder of the Winds somehow gained over 20 unique story alerts since my last update. I thought my late, almost inappropriate decision to start writing from other perspectives—paired with the fact the whole 'disappearing students' arc was kind of rocky—would be a turn off for a lot of readers. But apparently, I was wrong. I put two and two together and realized a lot of that feedback came from the insight I gave into Sky's character, mainly his situation with Diaspro. With a little bit of research, I discovered Diaspro's character (and wasted potential) is a topic of serious discussion in the fandom and this put some ideas into my head. After harnessing and piecing them together with my older ones, this chapter was born. Read on, reader, and I hope you enjoy what I've put together. If you feel up to it, please leave your comments at the end. I'd love to hear from you! Thank you, and happy holidays!


It was widely held notion that life was not perfect, but Diaspro Depuysseleyr, the dazzlingly bejeweled Fairy of Gemstones, Crown Princess of Eraklyon's wealthiest kingdom, and High Crown Princess of the realm itself, begged to differ. Her life was becoming its own fairytale, and her upcoming date with her Prince Charming was the first step toward happily ever after.

Her date. Their date.

Just thinking about it lifted the princess's spirits even higher than the clouds. Ever since she was a little girl she'd known there would come a time when her friendship with the High Prince would deepen into courtship but now that it was finally happening, now that they were of age and in love, it almost seemed surreal, like a dream. She'd actually pinched herself a few times, half-convinced this was a sleep-induced fantasy she would tragically wake from. When the pain did nothing but ground her in this rapturous reality, her elation intensified, setting her soul alight. At long last, after years of faithfully remaining at his side, the High Prince would be hers and hers alone.

Hours after her call with him, she sat cross-legged in the heart of her lavish parlor, flipping through her photo albums as a tribute to her and the High Prince's evolving relationship. Diaspro wasn't usually one to be sentimental but she allowed her cherry-frosted lips to play into a smile as she revisited old memories, swelling with a deep sense of nostalgia. Each gilded page featured at least one picture of her and the High Prince—Diaspro was in more photos with him than her own brother, a testament to how strong of a bond the two of them had. There were no words vivid enough to express their relationship; their fondness for each other was more than precious than any jewel, brighter and more valuable than even the most priceless gemstone. This affection was something they'd shared since they were toddlers, and there were pictures to prove it.

It was an effort not to choke up as she leafed through the album, watching years pass in a matter of minutes. How times flies! It seemed like just yesterday she and the High Prince had smiled for the camera at his seventh birthday ball, the two of them donning their formal finery and grinning like the carefree children they were. And even after seven years, she still plainly remembered the day they took pictures at the annual Sky Festival with their childhood friends, both of them standing side-by-side in the center of the lineup—their rightful place— as they held the hands that weren't clutching cotton candy.

Diaspro sighed dreamily. She and the prince were so innocent back then. Those were the days when they only saw each other as playmates, boy and girl, but now they were on their way to becoming lovers, man and woman. It was the perfect love story.

The more Diaspro marveled at their childhood photos, the more immersed she became in her romantic daydreams. Soon, there would an album dedicated to this era, characterized by photos of Diaspro and the High Prince during their young courting years. While it was on her mind, she made a mental note to get in touch with her publicist so she could get in touch with her contacts at Eraklyon's most reputed media outlets; though Diaspro would be taking plenty of pictures of her own, she wanted the paparazzi posted at every establishment the High Prince was going to take her on their big night, poised to take pictures of them the moment they made their fashionable arrival. Media presence was guaranteed to make news of their courtship spread like a wildfire and it wouldn't be long before it started making headlines, becoming the object of every blog's, tabloid's, and gossip magazine's focus. Diaspro expected nothing less; her first date with the High Prince was a momentous occasion that required nationwide attention. It would be the making of history, officializing her future role as Eraklyon's next High Queen. Her legacy would be cemented in historical textbooks, as would Isis's and House Depuysseleyr's.

Just thinking about home led Diaspro to recall her earlier conversation with her mother. Eager to share the wonderful news with someone lest she burst from pent-up excitement, she'd rung her parents the moment she got off the phone with the High Prince. She'd been so overridden with joy, fresh and faultless, she hadn't felt so much as a sting of anger when the Queen of Isis answered.

"If this is about the house, your father and I remain firm in our decision," said the Queen of Isis in a stern tone that left no room for argument, deciding a formal greeting wasn't necessary. "Now, unless you have an important matter to discuss, I must see to the end of another of your brother's tantrums—"

"That can wait," interjected Diaspro, dismissing her mother's iciness. Her relationship with her parents had been nothing short of rocky these days—nothing unusual there—but this latest development regarding the High Prince was sure to thaw the tension. The queen might've been irate with her daughter now, but she'd be fawning over her in a few short minutes. "I just got off the phone with the High Prince."

Mere mention of him was enough to earn the queen's undivided attention, as Diaspro knew it would be. The other end went silent, but she could practically hear her mother's ambitious thoughts running across the screen of her mind. The Imperial Family had always been a topic of special importance in their household because out of all the other noble houses, it was they who had the highest likelihood of becoming a part of it. "And? Is he well?" the queen asked, failing to mask the anxiousness in her tone.

Ever since the incident on Linphea, a cloud of uncertainty had hung over House Depuysseleyr like an ominous storm cloud. Because the High Prince, poor thing, had somehow gotten entangled in that mess—a troubling revelation High King Erendor and High Queen Samara had given only to those in their Inner Circle— he'd outright detached himself from Eraklyian society as a coping mechanism. This in addition to the fact he and Diaspro went to schools worlds apart gave the King and Queen of Isis a reason to worry their arranged marriage was in jeopardy. An overreaction on their part; it would take far more than distance and disaster for Diaspro and the prince to drift apart, but her parents had always been worrywarts.

Yes. And from the sounds of things, it's safe to say he's made a fast recovery." Diaspro's voice was proud, but deliberately calm at the same time. She didn't want to give away her excitement—not yet. Spiteful as it may be, she wanted to make her mother squirm a little because deep down, a small part of her was still upset. Upset that her parents were still refusing to buy her the beachfront property she was eyeing on one of Andros's most scenic coasts. In a way, withholding the information her mother was so desperate to hear was her way of getting revenge.

"As expected of our High Prince." The queen didn't sound as relieved as she should've been, as if the prince's welfare wasn't really what she was concerned about. "Did he say anything else? Did you tell him about the pageant as I instructed?"

Diaspro smirked to herself. "Yes. He wants me to withdraw from the contest," she said slyly.

This, as she anticipated, came as a shock to her mother because there was a moment of stunned silence. "What? Why?" the queen demanded once she'd recovered. "Has he lost his senses? You're his fiancé—he should be more than willing to showcase your beauty! Doesn't he realize your participation will reflect well on his court? He honestly wishes for you to squander such a favorable opportunity?"

Diaspro let her mother rant, simmer in her rage for a moment before smugly speaking up, "You didn't let me finish. He wants me to drop out of the pageant because he wants to spend that evening with me instead."

That shut her mother up quickly. Another moment of silence passed as she let this sink in. "Darling, that's wonderful!" she was suddenly gushing, "it's high time he started courting you." That quickly her attitude did a one-eighty; she sounded even more jovial than Diaspro. The queen's reaction was only natural; after all, Diaspro was the Depuysseleyr's trump card, a golden ticket to Imperial status. The moment a girl was born to them, most of their efforts had gone toward using her as a way to appeal to the Imperial family, whose newborn heir was conveniently male. Nearly two decades later, their sacrifices and hard work were finally paying off. "Where are the two of you going?"

"I don't know yet; we didn't have time to discuss it because he had business to see to, but he promised to call me later me later."

This didn't seem to disappoint the queen; in fact, she sounded even more elated as she said, "Then there's a good chance he has yet to share the news with the High King and Queen. Diaspro, dear, I'll call you later; I must be the first to inform the Imperial Family about this delightful turn of events."

She wasn't the only one eager to boast about Diaspro's latest accomplishment. Within moments of ending her call with her mother, the princess had phoned two of her friends at Eraklyon Institute, insisting they drop everything and come straight to her house even if it meant walking out of a Saturday seminar. She'd even sent a Town Car to pick them up, knowing they wouldn't turn down her offer.

Waiting on them to arrive is what'd led her to the photo albums. She was still taking a trip down memory lane when there was a single knock at the parlor's sound oak door, dull and duteous. "Come in," she called, eyes not leaving the pictures of her and the High Prince having fun at the beach as the suit-clad butler entered on near-silent feet, his presence equally muted.

Nowadays, nobles—especially the belonging to new wealth—were being more lax and laid-back when it came to the hired help, but the Depuysseleyrs were traditional and firm believers in the class system. Their servants had only two purposes: to serve and submit while being as inaudible and invisible as a shadow. That's why the butler took no more than two steps inside the parlor. It was neither his place nor space to move about so freely and familiarly. "Your Majesty, an unauthorized vehicle is requesting access to premises," he reported, head bowed and eyes down. "They gave the correct entry code but—"

"That must be Kumo and Lorelle," said Diaspro, interrupting him. That was faster than she'd anticipated; she'd been prepared to wait at least another hour, as traffic around Eraklyon Institute was particularly horrible on the weekend. Diaspro's house might've been in a prime location, situated in one of the affluent residential neighbors just outside of college town, but the commute was hellish whenever classes were dismissed at EI; a drive that should've only been thirty minutes normally took two hours. Yet, her friends had gotten here in little more than half that time, much to Diaspro's satisfaction. It pleased her to know they'd defied the odds simply because she'd asked them to. With her being the next High Queen of their home planet, it was only natural they did everything in their power to remain in her good graces. "Give them clearance."

"Very good." The elder men bowed once more before taking his leave, soundlessly easing the door shut on his way out. His clipped footsteps soon faded into silence as he disappeared deeper into the house, en route to the guard post to relay the order.

Though her friends had arrived, Diaspro made no effort to go out and meet them. Not now, not when they still had to get through security. Both Kumo and Lorelle might've been old friends of the family but not even they were exempt from the clearance protocol all of Diaspro's guests were required to undergo if they wanted to foot on her property. Her safety was not something the Depuysseleyrs took lightly and as a result, her friends would have to go through the routine process of checking in and being searched at each individual security gate. It was a procedure they were used to and a fairly lengthy one at that. The pair wouldn't be cleared for another twenty minutes or so, so Diaspro was in no hurry to head outdoors and get that smell on her clothes.

Instead, she put the albums away and turned to her phone, where the group chat she'd started was just as active as it had been an hour ago. All of her friends had taken the bait and were abuzz about the "big surprise" she refused to reveal. Her inbox was inflated with individual texts from her friends, especially the ones who didn't belong to the Inner Circle; naturally, they were overly anxious to know what all the excitement was about, tickling Diaspro's amusement. She made a game of playing on their nosiness, heightening their curiosity only to sign off a few moments later, leaving it unquenched. It was all part of her plan; by purposely keeping them in the dark about her and the High Prince's blooming courtship, she was keeping their eyes trained on her until she decided it was time to drop the bombshell. The longer she kept her lips sealed, the more desperate they would become for inside information; eager to beat everyone else to the punch, to be the first one she confided in, they would practically be fighting for her favor when she returned to school tomorrow evening. She'd be the talk of Eraklyon Institute for weeks to come and there was nothing Diaspro enjoyed more than being the object of everyone's infatuation, like a twinkling gem.

Like she did every few hours or so, the princess checked all of her social media feeds and then the time. Deciding the guards should be wrapping up their inspection, she gracefully rose from her seat and made for the front porch.

Her house might've only been a temporary residence, a private place where she could relax while classes were dismissed at Eraklyon Institute for the weekend, but no expense had been spared in terms of decor. It was a modern masterpiece, defined by high ceilings, natural light, and airy spaces. In terms of interior design, its main characteristics included glossy marble mined from the Englenear Alps at her request, fabrics hand-woven from Melody's rarest silks, and glass strung from the sand carpeting the floors of Andros's holiest waters.

To add on to the exquisiteness of Diaspro's mansion, hanging throughout it was a series of delicate chandeliers made entirely of droplet-shaped diamonds from gem-rich Isis, a single stone alone worth more than four years' tuition at the Magix Dimension's most prestigious colleges. One twinkled overhead as Diaspro's heeled steps echoed through the foyer, radiant in all its expensiveness. The fairy didn't even notice; she was used to being around priceless things. The ruby ring decorating her slender hand winked in the sunlight as she gestured toward the front doors, both of them intricate with a lattice of ironwork, and they eased open in magical obedience, opening to a scenic landscape.

The grandeur of her front yard was enough to make her wish her property wasn't fenced off from public view just so everyone could appreciate it for the art it was. Every square inch of her three acres was manicured to perfection, featuring a variety of exotic trees, flower-dotted bushes, and walking paths that snaked through fields of lush grass.

Diaspro stepped out onto her front porch just in time to see the Town Car hovering up the stone straight that was her private drive, its grille of golden metal flashing in the afternoon light. It slowed to a halt in front of the ornamental fountain in the center of the forecourt, prompting a butler to receive its passengers.

Not waiting around for his assistance, one of Diaspro's newly arrived guests swung her door open, planting a satin slipper on the stone outside. The rest of the girl appeared seconds later, her hair flowing down to her ankles in twin streams of fluffy white. Her slanted eyes found Diaspro's and they narrowed. "This had better be worth my time," announced Kumo Moyamura by way of greeting, dramatic as ever. Being the princess of both Eraklyon's and Melody's respective sky countries as well as the ambassador of the former to the latter, she was an important figure in Eraklyian society even if she was an oddity among them.

Her hair, for instance. The fluffy white mentioned earlier was not an exaggeration; dense masses of it actually sprouted out of her scalp. Being cloudlike in nature as well as appearance, her hair had a tendency to billow around her head to the point her face was nearly swallowed up; hence the reason she always had it bound in twin pigtails, pigtails that were now secured by lilac ribbons and decorated with butterfly clips. Even for a sky princess, her "tresses" were unusual; her mother, princess of Eraklyon's heavenbound territory and her father, king of Melody's equivalent, had smooth, straight hairs like everyone else in their families. No one could ever explain why their daughter a literal cotton ball growing on her head, but it was theorized to be a result of two sky-hailing bloodlines fusing together to form one. Most people thought it was exotic, but Diaspro had always found it peculiar.

And then there was Kumo's clothes. Despite her frequenting on Eraklyon, she always preferred her traditional Melonese garments. Even now, she sported a lavender, floral-printed kimono trimmed with white floss and cinched by a solid-white obi. Under normal circumstances, Diaspro might've been insulted by her refusal to acknowledge Eraklyian culture, but she didn't even register her old friend's defiant attire.

The Fairy of Gemstones merely smiled at her. "An audience with me always is," she drawled as the butler offered a hand to her second guest, helping her out of the vehicle. Lady Lorelle Fairway, another of Diaspro's childhood friends.

"Well, someone's in a good mood," chirped Lorelle, smoothing out the wrinkles vehicular travel had left in her slim skirt. The amber-gold garment was extremely long, to the point it fanned out on the ground like the unfurled petals of a flower. Paired with a modest white blouse that had long, droopy sleeves, the best word to describe her fashion sense was old-fashioned. Still, it was nothing unusual for a lady of Thordal, the Eraklyian territory that was both historically and financially significant for its millennia-long resistance to urbanization. While the rest of the dimension was enjoying the technologies and innovations of the Seventh Era, the country of Thordal alongside its culture and citizens hadn't evolved past the dated customs of the Third Era. Hence the reason it was so popular among the tourists; roughly twenty percent of the travelers who vacationed on Eraklyian during the summer months went to Thordal. It was one of the few countries in the Magic Dimension that religiously honored the Old Ways—there were plenty of Third-Era villages throughout the dimension, but rarely did whole nations manage to repeal modernization without upheaval—and its old-world charm was why it saw more traffic than Eraklyon's majestic waterfalls. And more money.

That was why Lorelle had a spot in the Inner Circle. She might not have been a princess, but that was a small detail to overlook when the Fairways owned majority of Thordal's tourist attractions. Their annual revenue from those alone exceeded the overall fortune of Thordal's royal family and many other Eraklyian nobles. In addition to this, the family owned shares in major companies dimension-wide, earning them well over five hundred million credits each year. The Fairways might've technically been at the bottom of aristocratic hierarchy but their wealth had earned them a place at the table, the privilege of sitting among kings and queens.

And then there was the fact they were old allies of the Depuysseleyrs. The King of Isis and Lorelle's father were long-time friends and colleagues, their partnership dating back to their college days. The families had a deep-rooted trust and as a result, Lorelle had grown up with Diaspro and the High Prince. This had always been a source of ire for many of Eraklyon's royal families—the fact that a mere lady had been welcomed into Imperial ranks rather than their own children exasperated them to no end—but Diaspro never paid much attention to their bitter jealousy. Out of all of her female friends, Lorelle had always been her favorite for numerous reasons. There was her affluence, of course, and then the fact Lorelle, like Diaspro, was the portrait of a pure-blooded Eraklyian woman. She was lovely—Diaspro would give her that—with sky-blue eyes and bright hair which, despite being pulled up on its signature bun, still fell to her waist in obedient ringlet curls that were auburn with bits of gold. She had a maidenly air about her with an etiquette to match, qualities that the nobles valued and the public treasured. But despite being beloved by all, Lorelle was reserved and in no way an attention-seeker. There was no better companion for a woman of Diaspro's stature; someone who was popular enough to be seen with but humble enough not to compete for the spotlight.

imagine this has something to do with the 'big news' you've been taunting everyone with," said Lorelle, lifting her skirt as she ascended the stairs to meet Diaspro. She and Kumo had tuned in to the group chat on the ride here. Though it contradicted their homeland's practices, her parents both agreed it was best to let their daughter have a phone while she was outside Thordal's realm of protection.

They'd just seen each other yesterday, but she and Diaspro exchanged customary air kisses. "I do have a knack for keeping people on the edge of their seats, don't I?" said the Fairy of Gemstones, voice dripping with vanity.

"More like a talent. An annoying one," said a grumpy Kumo as she joined them at the top of the stairs. "For your sake, I hope this is worth the trouble it took to get here."

Diaspro was in such a good mood, she didn't bat an eye at the girl's audacity to talk down on her. "Trust me," she said drawled, "you won't be disappointed."

WwW

"It would seem the High Prince has lost his marbles."

Diaspro, who hadn't expected her announcement to be met with such unenthusiastic criticism, glared daggers at Kumo. It was about half an hour later and the girls were lounging on the viewing deck overlooking Diaspro's backyard, the grassy expanse complete with an outdoor entertainment space, tiered gardens, and an infinity pool on the bottomost level. Beyond it, craggy hillsides spilled into the canyon, dotted with mansions and lush vegetation. "You shouldn't speak ill of him," the Fairy of Gems advised coolly. As the next High Queen, she found it inexcusably rude when people, elites especially, badmouthed her future husband so crassly. It was disrespectful, even more so when she was within earshot. "He will be your High King one day." And I your future High Queen, she didn't have to add. "If you wish to remain in his favor—" and mine "—I suggest you keep your controversial comments to yourself."

But, unfortunately, Kumo had never been one to know her place. Take now for instance. She was perched on the patio sofa adjacent of Diaspro, her pigtails piled on either side of her as she shamelessly violated Diaspro's personal space with the stench of tobacco. Kumo removed the sea-silver pipe from her beautiful mouth only for it to downturn into a frown. "Tsk," she said with a scornful, skeptical click of the tongue. "I do not need or want his favor. I will say as I please."

"That's the problem," retorted Diaspro as a spark of annoyance flickered to life inside the pit of her heart. "Your inconsideration for others is shameless."

"Coming from you, that statement is almost laughable," smirked Kumo before going back to puffing on her pipe.

It was an effort not to bristle at her audacity. Diaspro would've scowled had the expression lacked the potential to encourage wrinkles. Instead, she appraised Kumo with no small amount of irritation. She'd always had low tolerance for the halfling's offhand remarks because that was all she was: a halfling. Despite being half Eraklyian, her Melonese genes had determined her features, leaving her with a swanlike neck and slanted pair of eyes that made her look like a complete foreigner in comparison to the rest of them. Everyone she came across called her beautiful but, to be completely honest, they all saw her as nothing more than an exotic object in the most cliché, crude way possible.

That was the only reason Kumo, who not only lacked the pure blood that was Diaspro and the other elites' pride but shamelessly renounced the little she had, was allowed to mingle with Eraklyian nobles. She was allowed in their ranks not because she was particularly valuable, but because she was fetishized. That was why Diaspro had little patience for her and undesirable personality. Considering her lesser status, she was lucky to even be sitting in Diaspro's and Lorelle's presence, yet here she was condemning the High Prince, the last person she should speak against.

"His timing is a bit odd," chimed in Lorelle, comfortable in her chair across from Diaspro's as she pulled her needle through the fabric of the shawl—skirt?—she'd brought along with her. Sewing, a hobby Diaspro didn't particularly approve of. Though it was preferred highborn learn a hand-orientated craft for tradition's sake, needlework was for women of lower rank. Lorelle was a little too modest; she acted more like a lady-in-waiting than an actual lady.

Diaspro lifted her chin. "Sky is a very busy man; with all of his responsibilities as a student, warrior, and High Prince, he rarely has the time to call. To my knowledge, ever since he left for Red Fountain, he's had more dealings with me than his own parents." It delighted her to know how much he prioritized her.

"Yes, because unlike them, you nag him as if the two of you are already married," sniped Kumo, wisps of smoke escaping her mouth and lacing the midday air.

Diaspro dismissed the snarky nature of her comment. "After the unfortunate events on Linphea, it's only appropriate I check up on him. And put that pipe away; I don't want the smoke to stick to my clothes."

"Yes, well that's why deodorizing charms are for." Kumo made a point of taking a long drag and then inclining her head toward the sky, exhaling a slow stream of smoke.

"While we're on the subject, how is Sky doing?" wondered aloud Lorelle as the maid—though she'd been in the employment of the Depuysseleyrs for ages now, Diaspro didn't bother remember her name—returned with a tray of refreshments, head down and eyes downcast. "I've been asking around, but no one's heard from him. Has his condition improved?"

Though Kumo said nothing, feigning indifference to the situation as usual, she couldn't hide the curious light in her deep purple eyes. It gave Diaspro gave pleasure to know that her friends, like everyone else in their circle, had to turn to her if they wanted to be in the know about Imperial affairs. That in the end, regardless of what they may say behind her back, there was no denying the fact they needed her far more than she needed them. Lorelle, Kumo, and a few of their mutual friends wouldn't have even known Sky had been involved in the Linphea Incident if she hadn't been gracious enough to tell them.

Seeing she had their full attention, Diaspro decided to drag out the suspense and made a show of leaning back in her seat, crossing her legs, and taking a slow sip from the glass of sweet, sparkling grape juice the maid had just poured for her. Speaking of the maid, she took her quiet leave after laying out the refreshments. Diaspro waited until she disappeared inside the house to say, at last, "Yes, tremendously. He sounds like his normal self again. But if you ask me, he's still a bit rattled, poor thing. Clearly the professional help Red Fountain hired isn't as professional as we were led to believe. I offered to hire a personal psychiatrist for him, but he keeps insisting that isn't necessary." The elite had access to a special group of lawyers, physicians, and other licensed professionals that were so seasoned in their line of work, they didn't offer or even advertise their services to anyone who didn't make seven figures. Quarterly.

Diaspro sighed dramatically. "Sometimes I feel like he doesn't understand just how much I worry about him." And that was true—she often found herself wondering about how he was faring in the Capital Realm, if he was safe, if Red Fountain met the needs and expectations of a man of his stature. She wished he'd think reasonably and transfer to Eraklyon Institute; there, not only would he be under the protection of their homeland's national guard, but Diaspro would get to see his handsome face every day. But alas, he was concrete in his decision and being her superior and fiancé, Diaspro was expected to honor it. That didn't mean she had to like it, though. Being the High Prince, it was only logical he attended college in his own realm like everyone High Prince before him. That way, he could receive an education that would best prepare him for his role as future High King of Eraklyon. It'd also give him the opportunity to make connections and predetermine which of his countrymen would make good assets to the crown. Not to mention he and Diaspro would be elevated to power-couple status with their childhood friends established as their official Inner Circle.

"What about his parents? Have they calmed down yet?" Lorelle had traded her needle for a pair of scissors and was not cutting away at the spread of fabric she'd unfurled across the table. Diaspro made a mental note to tell her not to bring along her "projects" whenever she was invited over.

"Hardly," the princess scoffed, recalling how livid High King Erendor had been when she was just recently invited to the Imperial Palace, her future home, for dinner with her future in-laws. "They're considering not paying his next tuition installment."

At that revelation, Lorelle, whose attention had been fixated on her work this whole time, looked up.

This even shocked Kumo, whose pipe froze halfway to her mouth. "They're going to have him withdrawn from Red Fountain?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise. This was big news; they'd all been there to witness Sky's yearlong endeavor. It'd taken him that long to persuade his parents to let him attend that school in Magix City.

"They have every right to. Seeing how things transpired, it's obvious they're not protecting him like they should."

"So does that mean he'll be attending Eraklyon Institute next semester?" asked Lorelle, eyes wide.

"I doubt it," huffed Kumo, regaining her bearings as she turned her face to the hilly horizon. "If he's adamant enough, he will remain where he is. His parents have always let him have his way, and he knows it."

It was true. Their Imperial Highnesses Erendor and Samara did have trouble saying no to their only child and for once, Diaspro wished they would stand their ground, refuse to let

Sky have a say in the matter for his own safety. He'd have no choice but to come to EI and everything would be as it should. None of this would've happened had he been there all along.

"Wouldn't that seem a bit suspicious though?" Lorelle cocked her head thoughtfully, her curls settling on her shoulder. "If the prince shows up at Eraklyon Institute right after what happened on Linphea, people might suspect there's a deeper connection, especially since the reports say a few Specialists were involved."

Diaspro waved away her concern, the scarlet stone that was her ring catching and reflecting the sunlight. "No one will think anything of it. They'd just believe he finally came to his senses, that's all." Her gaze briefly flickered downward when a hulking figure appeared in the expansive yard below. Security patrolling the premises. Even though Diaspro only resided here on the weekends, her house was under constant surveillance. When you were one of the most important people on the planet, no safety measure was too extreme.

Kumo expelled another jet of smoke. "Things are never that simple," she chastised, "and controversy is unavoidable, if not from the people then the High Court of Linphea." Yes, because unlike the public, High Queen Rachel of Linphea actually knew the identities of all the individuals who'd been present during the Frelorn Fire, which historians were already labeling one of the worst catastrophes in Linphean history. No evidence pointed to Sky or his squire but according to Princess Krystal, a good friend of Diaspro's and the heiress to Linphea's High Throne, her mother and the court were now side-eyeing Eraklyon. The queen was inclined to believe they had a bigger role in the destruction of Frelorn, that is was no coincidence the High Prince of Eraklyon as "conveniently" on sight when one of Linphea's most sacred forests happened to go up in flames.

When Diaspro found out about this, she'd been tempted to call Rachel a fool to her daughter's face—she'd dare excuse the Imperial Family of sabotage? If Sky had orchestrated the fire as she so ignorantly suggested, he wouldn't be stupid enough to see to its execution. He wouldn't have even done the job himself, not when he could've easily hired someone to do it for him—but refrained from doing to preserve her relationship with Krystal, the next ruler of the dimension's most historically significant realm. Instead, she dutifully, respectfully defended her prince and like a good friend, counseled Krystal, who'd been crying over the damage done to Frelorn.

Diaspro hadn't heard from her since, though she suspected Krystal's silence was out of grief rather than spite. Even now, weeks after the fire happened, the Linpheans were still taking the tragedy rather hard. When the Depuysseleyrs flew to Linphea a few weeks ago to offer their condolences to its Imperial Family, it'd been an effort not to roll her eyes at how hysterically the Linpheans had balled their eyes out. Only a quadrant of Frelorn had been razed—the rest was still intact—but everyone was acting like it was a whole city that'd succumbed to the flames instead. Treehuggers, dramatic as always.

"Let's not discuss politics," insisted Diaspro, refusing to let them spoil her mood. Now was not the time for such talk; she'd only invited her guests over so she'd have someone to listen to her enthuse about her upcoming date with Sky. "We're here to discuss more important matters, like, for instance, what should I wear for my date?"

Lorelle's face lit up. "You can wear one of the dresses I made," she offered excitedly.

Diaspro would've gladly given her the honor had she possessed more status as a designer. Because, while she'd admit Lorelle had the talent, she couldn't be seen wearing the works of a no-name, especially while she was on the High Prince's arm. It would be an insult to them both. It was childish of Lorelle to even suggest such a thing but Diaspro decided to spare her friend's feelings—somewhat. "Nothing you have really speaks to my sense of style," she insisted dismissively, and Lorelle's face fell. "I think I'll have my personal designer commission a new dress for me. Sky hasn't told me where we're going yet, so I'll have him design a few evening gowns just to be safe."

Lorelle frowned her disapproval. "There's no way he'll have them done by then."

"He will if I tell him to. Besides, he'd had stricter deadlines. Have a little faith; unlike yours, his methods are more...efficient," said Diaspro, eyeing Lorelle's sewing kit pointedly.

Thanks to magic and modern technology, little more than five percent of clothing was handmade.

Lorelle's hobby had been on the receiving end of Diaspro's criticism far too many times for the lady to take offense. "Any idea where he's taking you?"

Diaspro had been wondering that all day. "I imagine someplace upscale," she said, swelling with pride, curiosity, and excitement all at once. "Knowing Sky, he probably went out of his way just to impress me." It gave her great joy to know that he was finally giving her the recognition she deserved.

Kumo blew another ring of smoke, a canyon breeze carrying away the clouds. "I would not get too excited if I were you. Something smells odd."

Diaspro's nose twitched. "Perhaps you've just now realized tobacco has an odor?"

Kumo glared at her sharply. "Do not play games with me. You know what I meant."

Oh, Diaspro knew alright. "You know? It sounds to me like you're jealous," she said slyly and smugly. She swelled with satisfaction when Kumo's eyebrows shot up in what was a fusion between surprise and rage.

"Then you are a fool," the Melonese-Eraklyian princess spat, "I would never settle for a starry-eyed idiot like him."

Now it was Diaspro's turn to be insulted. Sky was the best suitor any Eraklyian woman could hope for and in no way an idiot. "You dare speak down on the prince?" she snapped, sitting straighter. "You may be a princess but you're still a half—"

"Wait, isn't your date the same day as the Miss Magix pageant?" Lorelle suddenly spoke up, unfazed by her friends' clash.

"Yes," replied Diaspro coolly, half-heartedly, not breaking Kumo's glare.

Now Lorelle looked confused. "But aren't you supposed to compete? I was under the impression big events like that ran into the night."

"They do. That's why I withdrew from the contest."

"What?" If they hadn't been taught to avoid making such unladylike reactions, Lorelle's mouth surely would've fallen open. "What do you mean you 'withdrew?'"

"Just as I said. The contest conflicts with the High Prince's plans so I contacted the registry and informed them I won't be participating this year."

To say Lorelle was baffled was an understatement. "But…you've already made so many commitments. You're just going to cast aside all of your hard work?" It was she who'd sat through all of the sessions Diaspro had with her professional pageant coaches; having witnessed how much the Fairy of Gemstones had dedicated herself to the pageant, this latest development was one she hadn't been expecting to hear.

I'll just enter next year," said Diaspro dismissively.

"I'm sure the Hornet will be pleased to hear that," smirked Kumo, referring to another princess in their circle. They'd dubbed her 'the Hornet' because she was a pest, always sticking her nose in everyone's business and buzzing around in your ear no matter how many times you shooed her away. Few could tolerate her and Diaspro wasn't one of them.

Diaspro snorted. "It's not like it'll improve her chances of winning. Besides, when she hears why I'm not competing, she's going to wish I was." It was a well known fact the Hornet had a thing for the prince—who didn't? Her parents had unrealistic hopes that he would break off his arrangement with Diaspro so their daughter could marry him. When the Hornet discovered that the prince intended to court Diaspro instead of her, she was going to be absolutely livid.

"I imagine you'll tell her personally," said Kumo, smiling ever so subtly at the conniption the Hornet was sure to have.

The thought was enough to bring a smile to Diaspro's face as well. "Her name will be the first on the guest list," she assured, letting go of over anger at Kumo. When it came to the Hornet, they were unified in their aversion.

"Guest list? You're throwing a party?" asked Lorelle, perking up with an excitement that made her forget all about the pageant.

"In a sense. The start of my courtship with Sky is an occasion worth celebrating. I want to make the announcement in front of everyone we know." To witness the reactions of all her rivals firsthand.

Kumo raised an eyebrow. "How do you plan to keep it a secret that long? Your mother's no doubt told everyone by now."

"Only Sky's parents," corrected Diaspro. "I've already asked her to refrain from telling anyone else."

"Even Reiff? You plan to leave him out too?" The disapproval in Lorelle's voice was faint but there.

"I'll get around to calling him."

"Knowing your cousin, he'll probably be skeptical of the High Prince's intentions," said Kumo.

"For good reason. Being my guardian, it's only natural he makes my safety his top priority."

"Will he be guarding you on your big day?" asked Lorelle curiously.

"But of course. Sky and I are two of the most important people on this planet; security is of upmost importance. High King Erendor will have his best men watching our every move."

"You speak as if you're impervious to circumstance," noted Kumo, studying Diaspro closely.

Diaspro lifted her chin. "Because I am," she said haughtily, "when you're as wealthy as me, you can hire whole task forces of bodyguards. I'm untouchable."

Apparently, that tickled Kumo's sense of humor because she gave the faintest of grins. "We shall see," was all she said.


I was daring and decided to give Diaspro a surname. I did that a year ago, so I'm happy I finally got to implement it into the story. Also, I don't own Lorelle; she's a character I simply took from the comics and have a surname. However, I do own Kumo. I was a bit uncertain about adding another OC, but I gotta do something. Winx Club has a very limited range of characters...