Frayed Knots

by FountainPenguin

"It's not my problem if you're embarrassed, Anti-Cosmo," H.P. said as I hugged my shoulders. He scratched his chin. "Hm. I suppose there's no help for it. If you honestly and truly want to wear a hat, then you'll have to secure a high position of power so no one ever dares to say anything about it that's negative in the least." (Written August 2016 - Ongoing)

33. This Close to Heaven

A/N - For reference, H.P. has about 66 pixies at this time (This chapter takes place a few years after Origin of the Pixies Chapter 40, "Inner Workings").

Also, in the early part of this chapter, Anti-Cosmo briefly references an event in Origin Chapter 31, "From Straw to Gold" (that time he served snacks to H.P. and Anti-Bryndin), which wasn't depicted in Frayed Knots. Towards the end, he also makes a reference to the Origin chapter "A Grain of Truth" when mentioning an encounter between his father (Anti-Robin) and a young H.P.

Finally, there's a reference to a scene from Origin Chapter 33 "The Phoenix and the Courgette" when Anti-Cosmo reveals he placed a curse on H.P. that causes flowers to die within a day if they're kept under his roof. You don't need to read Origin to understand Frayed Knots, but if you're wondering when those things happened, there you go.

Final note: I don't consider "The Fairy Beginning" canon, but Cosmo's (and therefore Anti-Cosmo's) aunt and uncle are considered canon in the family tree.

(Posted May 26th, 2023)

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This Close to Heaven

In which Anti-Cosmo declares vla with Anti-Wanda, speaks with Nana Anti-Miranda, reunites with Prince Eastkal, and more in the Winter of the Scattered Whispers

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Migration season found me in Cedarcross, hovering awkwardly around the registration table where Anti-Wanda sat near the ballroom… she filling a seat I'd long grown familiar with seeing Anti-Praxis hold before his death. I didn't spy her father Anti-Buster pacing anywhere nearby… He must be off with the High Count somewhere. Which made sense… In Salalalyn's temple, Anti-Bryndin would be channelling Winni right about now. Keeping an extra eye on him wouldn't go unrewarded.

"Go on without me," I'd told Anti-Lance. "I'll only be a moment… I just want to share a thought with Anti-Wanda."

So my colony had left me, moving deeper into the mountain tunnels of Cedarcross… I waited with Anti-Wanda at the top of the twin staircases. She had paperwork to file. Understandable. Migration season is the camarilla court's busiest time of the average year, minus the Seven Festivals every turn of the zodiac cycle. I watched over her shoulder, my hands clasped behind her back, as she filled line after line with thick scratches of ink. She wrote in… Well, it wasn't an official script, but I think I'd describe it as attempted Vatajasa. You know, that made sense… Anti-Bryndin spoke Vatajasa as his native tongue. It had always been the true language of the Anti-Fairies: the one Anti-Shylinda created for us rather than one the Fairies had thrust in our direction. Vatajasa didn't fully exist in written form. Not in a way that would make sense to a modern hand. Anti-Wanda clearly knew this, but she did her best to force the pieces into place with literal transcriptions and pronunciations. She wrote some things I couldn't even translate, which left me feeling slow and dumb alongside her.

"Whatcha want?" she finally grunted at me. Anti-Wanda wore an itchy blue sweater today. This whole time, she'd been leaning her cheek against her hand. She didn't even look at me. "Did ya come to change your name?"

I blinked. "What?" Now that the rest of my colony had skimmed off, we were alone at the top of the elegant stairs. Anti-Wanda, the table, her stack of parchment, and flickering yellow torches made up the entirety of our space… The only figure that even remotely looked like another creature was the massive statue of a sheep rearing back on its hooves, which stood below us between the two curved staircases. She had to be talking to me.

"Your name. You declaring it in the papers, or are you still stealing one that don't belong to you?"

I frowned, saying nothing for a moment. "Oh, no. I see the confusion, but that isn't what I wanted to discuss tonight. Firstly, I wondered if I could get the arrival records for some relatives of mine, and secondly, I need to declare vla. It can wait until you have a moment."

"Anti-Robin checked in not long ago with the anti-pixies. Your mum's Blue Castle colony, but I guess you knew that."

I forced on a patient smile. "Not those relatives."

"Which ones, then?"

"My nana, Anti-Miranda. Possibly also my uncle, Anti-Harold Anti-Lunifly."

"Is he married?"

"Yes- To his honey-lock partner, Anti-Potter Anti-Whistlewings. All three of them lived in Oakfall Town while my mother was young, then relocated to the Far West after the marriage to Anti-Bryndin. I rarely see them. Did they arrive at migration this year?"

Anti-Wanda picked at one of her buck teeth with the flat of her thumb, frowning. She started moving scrolls and stray pieces of parchment around her registration table. I tilted my head, wondering if it would be impolite to join her. After a moment of running her fingers over scribbled names, Anti-Wanda found what she was looking for.

"Your aunt and uncle… Huh. Yeah, here's that. They lead the Anti-Lunifly colony. They's got a kid: Anti-Estella. Sound right?"

"Yes, she's my cousin. She does charity work in Thornpetal Town." That sounded more polite than calling her a soda addict who flirted with anti-wisps because she couldn't keep a partner, let alone a colony. "If I'm not mistaken, her child is living with her." Anti-Estella had only visited me twice when I was growing up, but since her son Calem was two zodiac cycles older than me, it was easier to think of him as my cousin instead of her.

"Yep. Grown into his adult wings about ten thousand years back. Says here his name is Anti-Lyren. That's a drake's name, ain't it?" Anti-Wanda waved that scrap of the scroll in my direction. She didn't try to smile, not attempt to disguise the heaviness beneath her eyes. Hm. I arched my brows, trying not to point that out.

"Yes, and thank you. Anti-Lyren attends migration every year, but I wasn't sure if his mother or grandparents would bother. They're a mite reserved and all three speak very little Snobbish. Speaking of, do you know anything about Anti-Miranda? She was born an Anti-Twigfall, though she's never been much interested in colony life. She didn't even want to pass along her family name."

Anti-Wanda checked her notes again, looking bored. "Anti-Talonstrike colony. They got here yesterday. And earlier I saw this Anti-Jasper guy with his colony of Anti-Luniflys with him. More family of yours?"

I smiled thinly. "Something like that. Anti-Jasper is my nana's honey-lock partner, but they lead separate lives. He visits me on occasion, though he's much closer to my cousin Anti-Poof; my mother was the youngest of his three children, you know, and frankly my father's father Anti-Gonzo can be a bit territorial of me when Anti-Jasper comes around. Oh, but you don't care for any of that political dribble! Ta, mate! I can't thank you enough. I have so many questions for them. You're marvellous, darling. Keep up the great work."

"Whoop de fritz," she clipped, tightening her eyelids shut. She leaned back against the registration table, digging her talons into its underside. "Praise don't mean a lot right now. This works out for you just fine, though…"

My smile faltered. "How do you mean?"

"I mean that tonight's the last time I'm working this desk job, so I guess I'm not gonna be the one who has a problem with your stolen name anymore. At least not 'til you're dead." Anti-Wanda stood then and grabbed her navy blue jacket from the end of the table. This, she began stuffing her arms and wings into. I drew back just to avoid her big, stomping boots landing on my bare toes. "Anti-Bryndin spoke with the Head Pixie yesterday to finish everything. I guess he and his pixies are taking over our paperwork now. Not just this migration, but every year after, too… A.B. signed a contract."

"Oh…" I reached my hand towards her, then pulled it back. "You seem insulted."

That was the first moment Anti-Wanda locked eyes with me. I still winced beneath her fiery pink gaze… They were a far cry from the lightly crimson eyes I'd once known to gaze at me from the other side of the Anti-Fairy enclosure in the Eros Nest. They served as an all too scathing reminder of what she'd been doing the night she stood me up on the one outing I'd ever asked her on. The dancing torches only made their colour all the more intense. Her scowl twisted, not quite frozen so much as… painted. Ick. My thumb twitched to wipe her lipstick until it smeared. This wasn't my Anti-Wanda.

"I'm livid, Anti-Cosmo! Livid!" She threw her arms in the air then, wings flapping like thunderclaps. "Anti-Fairies prolly ain't never needed another species to do migration paperwork for 'em before! Not in thousands and thousands of years! Not until it became my job to do it up here… I'm real sure the High Count don't respect me and my work at all."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that… Your ancestor Anti-Shylinda would surely be quite hurt. She always intended the Blue Castle to be a home for scholars, you know. She brought literacy to our people. Anti-Wanda, I may be speaking boldly, but I don't believe you should blame yourself for this. Anti-Bryndin has had one hand toying with the Head Pixie's belt buckle for tens of thousands of years. Don't hold this as a poor performance review of yourself… I suspect he'd have replaced any one of our scribes with the Head if he could. He's appealing to the man's pride to secure a beneficial alliance for our people. One which he hopes will stand for hundreds of thousands of years."

"'Toying with his belt buckle?'" Anti-Wanda snorted, finally getting her second wing through the back sleeve of her jacket. "He's already got one hand down the Head Pixie's trousers, more like it."

"Erm, well… I don't really know anything about that…"

"True gumdrops." She didn't seem to mind saying the word amidst polite company, though I raised my brows at her. "I heard the Head's preened with him a dozen times. Naked once, even."

"Goodness. This is news to me." It wasn't, but I thought it best to be polite and not state that I knew more than the Seat of Sky on this topic, even if I did. Anti-Bryndin had called upon me a few times in the past to prepare the preening chamber or serve platters of snacks to him and the Head Pixie when the latter came around. The High Count was testing me… That's what it was. He wouldn't pick me up by the nape of my neck and fling me from the colony by force, but he was setting boundary lines in the hopes that I'd grow fed up and leave. We're drakes. We rarely tolerate each other in the same colony. He made it clear I wasn't welcome without the actual act of throwing me down the Castle steps.

Anyway… Everyone knew the Head Pixie liked his preening, and not everyone supported the political affairs such an act represented. The reason I wasn't open about my preening experience with Mickey Peridot was largely because I was still keeping one eye on the news at the time, waiting for preening tensions to die down. Mickey had been dead for thousands of years now. I didn't want his name to surge into the public eye, collecting negative attention if I ever mentioned preening with him. Anyway, it's not like it was anyone's business besides my own.

Anti-Wanda rolled her eyes. Pulling the edges of her jacket forward, she looked at me and circled back to the reason I'd lingered behind to see her in the first place. "H'okay! You said you needed me to witness vla? I ain't doing anything else tonight… Lead the way."

I blinked, staring again. "Oh… No, I believe there's been a misunderstanding. I don't need you to witness for me, Anti-Wanda… I owe my vla to you."

"Huh?"

"For that night outside Cracklewings. You know what I mean? Um… I'm terribly sorry if I've assumed anything. The word is old Vatajasa. Vlakrina means something like one who seeks forgiveness-"

"No, I know that," she interrupted, waving her hand back and forth as though to shoo my words away. "I just didn't think you had something to apologise to me for, that's all. I mean, I'm the one who's gone and stood you up before!"

Mm… True. My memories of that part in my life began to swirl. Like how Anti-Kanin had already replaced me as his favourite little squeeze… Like how I'd felt worthless and miserable and as though nothing could pierce through the swirling blackness in my chest. But that wasn't the worst of it. I rubbed sharp tears from each eye, one at a time, one and the other and the one again. I sniffed. My wings curled with every beat.

"No, no, please. I'm the one who should apologise. You see, I'm thoroughly embarrassed by the way I acted that night at Cracklewings." I leaned back my head, still trying to clear the tears with blinking lashes. "You were with your, um… boyfriend that night. It wasn't my place to come onto you. Anti-Wanda, if you'll take me… I wish to submit wholly, completely, as your vlakrina. Only during migration, mind you; I'm forbidden to linger at the Castle… But if I had the High Count's permission, I'd stay on your toes every day."

I drew in cold air, eyes closed, then opened them again and ensured they stayed directed at her feet. My claws twitched up to scratch my arm anyhow. Cautiously, I stepped forward. Anti-Wanda didn't move towards me, but she also didn't move away. "We're a people who believe in resolving conflict, my dear. Your instincts know this. I wronged you years ago, lashing out at your drakefriend… I acted in jealous rage at Cracklewings… because I wanted you."

"Anti-Cosmo, I… Gee, um…"

And the rain clung again behind my eyes. I flicked up my gaze just enough to drink in her stunned expression- held out my hands, palms upturned, a panicked swell in my core when I again stepped forward, my shirt nearly brushing hers, and she still didn't complete her half of the gesture. Um. She'd done this with me before…

How exactly am I meant to take this?

Through our shared core, Fairy-Cosmo swivelled his attention my way, asking in silent question if I needed a burst of freshly filtered magic to keep myself functioning. I made the mental backhand signal to assure him I did not. I'd rather he use the cleanest stuff to keep us breathing.

"I- Um… Yes, it's true… though I am ashamed to admit it. I desired you carnally, wishing to touch your body in lust instead of care. Yes. It crossed a line."

Nuh-uh, said her face. As in No way did you actually want me like that then. Then she did receive me. She unclasped her belt buckle and tugged up the hem of her shirt. Her blue slip - a much darker shade than my own undergarment so as to better represent Sky instead of Water - fit perfectly against her body. To my own surprise, the sight of it didn't fill me with lust the way it once might have when I was young. I mean… n-not that the Cracklewings incident was that long ago, and not that time excused me from repenting of my actions…

I placed my hand against her stomach, the black claw of my thumb resting against the buttoned opening that blocked off her pouch. My throat pounded as though my core had dropped from my head to my mouth. I lifted my eyes to meet Anti-Wanda's. Waiting. Waiting for one more signal to proceed.

Anti-Wanda's eyes combed downwards until they fell on her boots. She pulled a face with her tongue jabbed out, then bent down to pull them off- without bothering with the laces. This movement forced my hand away from her torso. I watched her pry one foot free of its cover, then the other. Once they were off, Anti-Wanda looked at me again without straightening up.

"You mean at roost… Right?"

"U-um… It doesn't have to be. I know some damsels can be sensitive when the tone swivels to vla. We can stay on the floor if you're more comfortable that way. You can, um… leave your garment buttoned, if you prefer."

"That's a choice?" Anti-Wanda stared at me, thunderstruck, and looked at her shirt with brand new eyes. Her forehead crinkled up. "Huh. I gotta get a new guide to living outside the Nest."

I blinked. She stepped out of her boots, but made no attempt to fly up to the ceiling. No matter. I held out my hand. Anti-Wanda accepted it. I lay my free palm against her side, drew in a careful breath, and twirled with her in a circle. Her claws tightened in my skin. I tightened mine right back. See, the issue with standing together was, Anti-Wanda stood notably taller than I am. That made it more than a little tricky to see myself as a charming gentledrake.

"In the spirit of vla, I need to apologise for that night at Cracklewings. The need for it has been wrecking me inside, weighing on me with the deepest sucking of the Darkness in my soul. I… forgot to see you as a person… I did not comfort you. I did not serve you as I should have in my role that night. Instead, I desired a damsel's body at the expense of her mind, and I did so in a place inappropriate to express that desire. This goes against our Zodii ways, and I've insulted both you and the spirits. I hurt you. I hurt someone you loved, all in my selfishness. For this, I'm sorry. And I apologise for our argument when you called me out for taking Anti-Cinder's Vatajasa name."

… She wasn't responding. Her stomach should be pressed tightly to mine at this point. She'd started in that way, loosening her shirt, but now that the moment was here, Anti-Wanda seemed hesitant to complete the action. Confused. I bit my lip, asking myself in silence whether I had presumed more of her understanding of our people's culture than she actually had. Perhaps her experiences in the Eros Nest hadn't been as authentic as I'd thought. I continued turning her in circles as though on a ballroom floor, though I felt mighty foolish in the process: me in my untucked shirt, my bare feet… Not that Anti-Wanda and her messy pegasustail looked particularly polished, either.

Does she not understand how vla works?

"Um… Yes. So that I might make it up to you, I submit myself humbly and unquestionably at your beck and call for every service you require, as long as you shall have me. A-and, well… Again, I'm afraid I can only be of service during migration, which is horribly unprofessional of me I know, but there's nothing to be done about it; Anti-Bryndin would nip my ear if I tried to follow you home. So until I satisfy your wishes, Anti-Wanda, I am not but your most obedient servant. This I swear… and so ends my request for vla."

Anti-Wanda's eyes studied me, her eyes petal-soft. I couldn't quite tell with what. Pity, maybe? Or was it genuine? Without a responsive touch, it was difficult to tell. I drew our "dance" to a close, reluctant to remove my palms from her body. This hadn't exactly given me the peace of mind I'd been hoping for. Not yet, anyway. Anti-Wanda set her hand on my shoulder.

"Golly. That's sure a long way to say 'Sorry,' ain't it?"

She said it like the word vla didn't carry an ounce of weight in her mind. I curled my fangs against my bottom lip. "You're new to the High South region, then."

"Guess so," she said, flicking a spiral of blue hair over her shoulder. "Well, I accept. Y'all can be my friend, okay? As long as you wanna be. And I'd really like it if we set up the tutor plan again. You promised me magic lessons once, teaching me how to really use a wand. Don't think I forgot. I know it fell aside, but I'd like to fix that up and try again. If you feel okay with that."

I waited a few wingbeats just to see if she would continue. When she didn't, I brought my hand to my chest. "Aha… ha. No, you misunderstand. A vlakrina is one who seeks genuine repentance and absolvement from guilt. It isn't really a friendship, darling… It's one-directional. I've a debt to repay, services to offer. You need form no lasting relations with me. I ask only for the chance to right my wrongs again. Use me for your pleasure as you will. I shan't resist."

Anti-Wanda smiled the whole time I spoke, and halfway through I realised it quite likely that my words were soaring over her head like paper birds. When I finished, she told me, "You turned out a good drake, Anti-Cozzie. Can I call ya Anti-Cozzie?"

"Um… I'd rather you didn't, if I'm quite honest."

"Anti-Cosmo, then. It's good, y'know- being honest." Anti-Wanda clapped her hands and rubbed them briskly together. Her eyes gleamed in the dark. "If magic lessons ain't enough to make you feel like you's forgiven, I know another thing I can get ya to work with me on too. I'm learning reading… In Snobbish, I mean. That's really why the High Count's got the Pixies coming in: they're translating old Vatajasa into shorthand Snobbish. You can be my extra tutor. Help me practise my reading for a couple migrations and I'll say you're out of debt when it's done. Say… by the end of the zodiac cycle? That's a good couple turns."

Could I really be free of my guilt in a few years' time? Thoroughly forgiven? No longer plagued by my anxious thoughts at night? "Oh," I said. "That works wonderfully, actually. You see, my betrothed wouldn't have been happy if I tangled with another damsel. I didn't want to place pressure on you and I would have dealt with any uncomfortable situation you required of me. I remember our former deal… That night, you offered to teach me how not to come across as a stand-offish, high and mighty boob when I speak to others. I won't hold you to that proposal, but if you can offer me any advice to better my speech in a way that won't alienate my peers, then teaching you both magic and to read Snobbish sounds like a perfect trade-off to me. In spite of the circumstances which brought me here, I am honoured to be your vla."

"Great, then! I'm really lookin' forward to it."

And she kissed me, right on the head below the ear. Her lips lingered perhaps a little too long, and perhaps I sort of let them. Staring at the breasts peeking from her shirt and waiting to feel something again. Anything at all again.

I felt nothing this time. How strange and cruel. In the Eros Nest, I'd pictured Anti-Wanda while I flirted with Anti-Wendy. But seeing Anti-Wanda's skin… I couldn't help imagining Anti-Wendy in her place.

Or maybe Blonda Prime.

I gazed perhaps a little too long at those breasts, just willing a flood of interest to seep into my mind. But it didn't. Staring at her this way, trying to force those feelings to come, felt like slamming a puzzle piece into the wrong spot over and over again. In my memories, Anti-Wanda was playful, teasing, and a fantastic ice dancer who knew how to work her legs and tail end in the rink. The Anti-Wanda before me was polite… yet mechanical. And irritated with her paperwork, and exhausted, and unable to bring herself to perform even basic sociosexual behaviour. This wasn't fun for her. I didn't know what to say. I felt as though she and the dame in my memories were too entirely different people, which only made things confusing for my brain.

Thinking of Anti-Wendy brought up images of a shy smile, the gloves she often wore when gathering plates, our walks through the courtyard, her scarlet eyes before they lightened to rosy pink, and the way her body had felt against my own. And thinking of Blonda socked me at once with the memory of her desire to court me, and how badly I'd wanted in that moment to take my wand and nudge down the collar of her shirt to see the goods that lay beneath.

Oh, why did I feel more anxiously attracted towards them than for the dame in front of me? That's hardly fair! It's not…

Then, like a flower petal, Anti-Wanda pulled away. She gave me a parting nod and floated past me down the stairs. I watched her go, my eyes on the swinging puff of her pegasustail. You know, that might have been the first time in my life I stood behind her and never sized up her wings or drooled over her perky rear. How… strange. Had I grown out of my hormonal adolescent passions? I didn't feel like much of an adult, no matter how much I wanted to be. Had my promise of monogamy to Mona been more sincere than I'd intended, and now my body would not betray my tongue? Had the spirits taken my feelings away in punishment for how I'd treated Anti-Wanda at Cracklewings long ago? Did Tarrow wish for me to suffer in silence, at a loss for conversation topics without the goal of flirtation bundled in? Had she simply aged ungracefully?

Why didn't I feel sparks rushing through my veins any longer?

I sighed and turned away, shaking my head. Well. As much as some part of me wished I could see the alternate fate path I knew I'd just turned from, thank gods I'd lost all attraction to her now. As long as it never came back, it would make our vla/vlakrina relationship so much less awkward. Tutoring her should be a breeze. And if she did change her mind before my debt was repaid, at least I could pleasure her and still devote my every thought to Mona.

I mean Mona! Mona!

… Did I say Mona? Oh, thank gods… For a second there I thought I'd had a slip of the tongue, ah ha ha…

To be honest, I had limited interest in contacting my aunt and uncle. Uncle Anti-Harold was far older than my mother and they'd never been very close. Nana Anti-Miranda was my target of the evening. I didn't know how long my grandmother intended to stay in Cedarcross, though I suspected it wouldn't be long. I think she "tolerated" other Anti-Fairies at best… She'd lived beneath the blue skies of Fairy World and I don't think Hy-Brasil ever did anything for her.

Anti-Lance had timed our arrival perfectly tonight. As a colony, we were to meet up again in the grand dining room at dinner, after which I was expected to stick close to my crechemates while we settled roosting decisions at our assigned array. We had nearly two hours to socialise before then. If I moved quickly, that should give me more than enough time with my nana.

I did find her. It took longer than I would have liked, as seeking her out required me to start multiple conversations with strangers and elbow my way through a very packed crowd, but I did narrow down her location in the end. That dame staring through a tall window, dressed in a spidery black dress with extra spikes on her shoulder pads, was her. My grandnana floated in silence, alone, with her wings only gently beating. I kicked my own wings into a sprint, practically shoving my way across the dining hall towards her. How funny that she didn't look at all like me. She had black hair like my mother, not dark blue like mine. And her fur looked so incredibly pale… No doubt she'd been born in Fairy World, back before the war split the skies. Her smoke had certainly not been bottled up at birth like mine.

"Nana Anti-Miranda! Grandnana! It's me! Your daughter's son, Anti-Cosmo!" This didn't get a reaction out of her, so I tried again as I flew close. "Ben'argenta, Nana Eliza! Lo'rika Julius, tor po-lisa!"

Hearing me introduce myself in Vatajasa as her grandchild made my nana turn her head, but it won me no smiles. I pulled up beside her, beaming in the most charming way I could, and watched her eyes move from my face to my feet to my face again.

"Oh, look," she said in Vatajasa. "You're alive. I thought the Fairies threw you in the Eros Nest for unleashing a dragon on Faeheim. You nearly killed a lot of us with that stunt, you know."

This type of greeting was, of course… quite typical. If hurtful. As a rule, my species did favour small talk, but no one had ever started a conversation with me by scoffing that I'd nearly murdered a large amount of Anti-Fairies by proxy. I lost my hopeful smile, instead propping my elbow on the stone windowsill. Wind blew between the bars, bringing with it the light chill of a cloudland winter. "I wasn't involved in that, actually… It's my counterpart who released the dragon." I relayed that information as plainly as I could. My Vatajasa wasn't advanced enough for nuance, which made my words choppy and somewhat irritating to decipher, and that didn't put my nana in any better mood.

"I presume that story isn't the only reckless adventure you've had as of late… I've heard quite a few things about genies, gangrene, and internships in Fairy World."

"I attend a Fairy school."

"Are you behaving?"

I shrugged. When Nana Anti-Miranda didn't immediately prompt the conversation again, I took the reins. "Nana, if you would be so bold, I had a question to ask you about your old Fairy partner."

"Lucas?" That sparked either her interest or her wariness. I couldn't quite read her mood. Ah, what I wouldn't give for the sweet senses of a Fairy.

"Yes, the very same. I've always heard stories from my mother… Well, not many stories seeing as Mother never knew him personally, but I've always carried your tale close to my core. Now that I'm older, I wondered if I might pry out a few details that were… not possible for my mum to answer." As I said this, I clasped my hands and batted my eyelashes. Nana stared back at me, arms folded. Smoke, she looked unmovable… Like an upright coffin. She turned her head slightly, watching other Anti-Fairies mill about the dining room. She extended one ragged wing to clearly indicate a request for privacy to everyone else. She leaned over me then, nudging me gently closer with that wing's edge.

"How serious are you about pursuing members of the Seelie Court, Eskel?"

Hmph. Eskel. Really, I don't know what I expected. She was Far Westian. Of course she would call me by my Vatajasa crown name. Frankly, I'm surprised she knew it. I certainly didn't reveal it any time I didn't have to.

"I…" What an intriguing question. I considered it briefly, toying my hands back and forth. "I'd very much like to sing with Fairies, if I knew a way. Their wings really do it for me… They're crisp and delicate and carry rainbows as they swish and whirl… It's an incredible sight to behold. In fact, when I fantasise at night… In my youth, I fantasised of Fairies and Anti-Fairies equally. Now, I think my fascination with Fairies is growing all the time. It's the newness of it, maybe. I've already sung with half a dozen Anti-Fairies by this point in life, but my dome has only unlatched for one of them. It was just under a year ago now. She won't be here tonight, but Il d'ijärv was her name. It's, um… Well, it was easier to, ah…"

How exactly did I want to say this? It wasn't something I'd really confessed out loud. I rubbed behind my neck, glancing off at the party guests milling around the dining room, exchanging greetings and small talk with lightness in their wings. Nana watched in silence, gently holding my arm. I puffed my cheeks, then exhaled.

"Nana, I'll come clean… I think my dome only unlatched that night because I was practically feral at the time. It was in the Eros Nest. I was placed under arrest for the dragon situation in Faeheim and the Fairies threw me in there. As the months passed, I began to lose my mind. Then spring season hit and I saw her. Not even my self-pleasures have gotten me that far before. I've experienced flashes of attraction towards my fellow Anti-Fairies here and there as I've grown, but they're fleeting in nature in a way I don't understand. Even with my betrothed, I feel like I hardly know her well enough to feel cool and fuzzy inside- or perhaps I've grown familiar and disenchanted. But I think… I think Fairy wings do it for me better. Once Fairy wings are in the picture, it's so much harder not to lean back and admire a swaying rear passing by, or sweaty muscles on the field, or breasts rising like bread dough from the depths of a low-cut shirt… You know what I mean?"

I couldn't be sure how much of that came across in Vatajasa. I may have practised this language since I was a child, but that didn't mean I'd fully grasped the less common words or that it comes easy. Still, my nana nodded, twirling one coil of black hair around with her fingertip.

"Lucas… had a stunning pair of wings. Powerful ones quite fitting for his muscular frame. Every fairy has different veins along theirs, you know, but the Rainwings family tend to pass down a certain pattern… One that gave them the appearance of dewdrops present all hours of the day."

"It sounds like he was beautiful."

"He was. Never much for the workforce, but he spent his time at home. Good father. Loved kids."

"I would have liked to meet him," I told her honestly.

"He wouldn't have liked you. You're disobedient. Keep too much to yourself."

Hmph. "I would have liked him," I insisted, stubborn now.

Nana Anti-Miranda shrugged her wings, leaning back without further argument. "Are you at all interested in trying Anti-Fairy intimacy again?"

"Yes, considerably!" I had to fight to keep my voice down. "Both the concept of Seelie and Unseelie romance appeal to me. I just… don't know how I feel when I reflect back on past experiences and remember I was still counted as fresh and inexperienced after half a dozen attempts to sing seriously. I had to be taken completely out of modern Anti-Fairy World in order to crack it open at roost." For extra emphasis, I tapped my finger twice against my head. "I might not be able to do that again without proper stimuli… You know what I mean? Did you ever worry about that with your anti-fairy partner?"

As I said to Anti-Wanda, my biological grandfather's name is Anti-Jasper. I rarely ever see him. I heard a rumour once that his mother is actually an Anti-von Strangle, but the only time it's ever been tossed around is when I'm mocked for my short height. Purebred Anti-Fairies are small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.

Gods, I hope we aren't related… I sort of like admiring Jorgen Prime's tough, raw muscles from afar. I'll be all the more uncomfortable with my fantasies if it turns out he's some sort of distant, secret cousin of mine after all.

This earned me a shake of her head. "A honey-lock always continues to the point of unlatched domes. If it didn't, it simply wouldn't end. See, that's the joy of it, Eskel. The Fairies often scoff at the honey-lock for stripping us of supposed consent, but when it's something you've grown up with, I think it's quite enjoyable to know you're guaranteed a few moments of being turned on throughout your love life. After all, my relationship with Lucas was limited in some respects. The thrill of the honey-lock coursing through my veins is the only time I ever liked touching Anti-Fairies."

I tsk-tsked, tapping my foot against the air. "Hm. I'll have something to look forward to, then. I admire the fun of the honey-lock, but it takes so dreadfully long to arrive… My counterpart is far too tame. It's terribly unfair. Have you any advice for my own love life while I wait? Specifically in regards to… you know… cross-Court affairs."

"If glittery fairy wings get your dome open, try costumed play," was her short response. "Stick with Anti-Fairies and be done with it. Fairies aren't worth an aching core."

I pulled sharply back. "What?" This advice from Grandnana Anti-Miranda, of all people? She had to be joshing me.

But she wasn't. She stared back at me. Her gaze bit my skin like acid. Even my eyelids.

"Rhoswen syndrome is a cruel sentence to wish on anyone… It isn't a poetic term, Julius, and the obsession it leads to isn't to be taken lightly." My nana was no longer smiling. Not at all. She squeezed my arm, pinching with her talons. I winced. "I know the Seelie don't like favours as a species. But if you truly do care about the drake or dame that you've been seeing… the kindest favour you can do for them is keeping the 'no touch' boundary clear and firm. Never crossing it."

"But surely you and Lucas-"

"Lucas and I don't see each other anymore. We kissed very little in our younger years, as I was sensitive of the acid in my saliva. But as time went by, Lucas insisted he wasn't frightened. Those were wonderful days… but when we touched, Rhoswen syndrome became too much for him." She shook her head, fangs nipping at her lower lip. "He grew wild. Dangerous. Not like himself. Once Rhoswen syndrome takes hold of a Fairy, it's like the honey-lock commands their world… They'll try to reach their affected partner, but the powers of the universe don't run in their veins. Not like ours. Barring a reunion with their match, they'll throw themselves at any Anti-Fairy they can, weeping and lashing out until the effects fade away. I rarely get to see Lucas now. When I do, I visit him knowing I must deny him my touch. Even if he whines for it. That's the thing, Eskel… He didn't see himself in that crazed and hungry state the way I did. He remembers it all, but like the honey-lock, Rhoswen syndrome holds a powerful effect on the mind. He never felt he was acting out of character. He's overlooked the details. He's overlooked the hospital visits. He's overlooked his behavior… I wouldn't wish that life on anyone."

I snapped my mouth shut, flapping my wings anxiously against my back. My nana ran sharp fingers through her stylized black hair, gazing down at me with a sigh balanced on her lips.

"Rhoswen syndrome to a Fairy is as irresistible of a siren call as the honey-lock to Anti-Fairies. They lose their will and become only creatures of desire… but the cruelty of this world is that, unlike the honey-lock which will fade after domes unlatch, cross-Court desire cannot so easily be satisfied. It haunts you. Corrupts the mind. Lucas became lost. Do you understand?"

Hrrm. We would see about that. I don't claim to be perfect, but when my energy highs flare to the extreme, I've been ravaged with thoughts of sexual desire insatiable. At those times, it didn't matter who I sang with. Attraction was irrelevant. Even following my amorous encounter with Il d'ijärv that mating season in the Eros Nest, the one and only time my dome had actually cracked in the wake of a partnered pleasure I'd never felt before, I wouldn't have minded another round. I don't think I've ever been satisfied at roost in my life. I'd simply never found a partner who could keep up with my endless manic energy.

If anyone needs a Fairy who's infatuated with them to the point of endless desire, it's me. I have the wildness for it. I'll leave them satisfied. Perhaps all along, what I really needed in my life is a partner whose sexual desire ran equal with mine. Maybe that's why I felt uncomfortable courting Mona at times my energy dropped.

I bid my nana farewell, although I respectfully disagreed with her advice to deny my own attraction. Blonda wanted me. She'd told me so quite plainly. Blonda desired an Anti-Fairy's touch against her bare flesh someday. And I wanted her! When there are others in this world whose cravings are easily met without the bat of an eye, why should she deny herself that?

Instinct pressured me to believe she'd been asking for it sooner rather than later, though I don't know how much I read into that situation… Common fairies mate for life, after all, so I presume she wasn't really moving things along so fast…

She only wanted an affair. That's what it would be, between us. Just a harmless little affair that satisfied us both. Mona wouldn't mind if I only saw Blonda on occasion. The reason she feared losing me is because she fretted that another damsel would dominate my time. If I only spent a night with Blonda on occasion, I saw nothing wrong with that. Mona could have the other 29 days in my month.

Blonda craved the intimate touch of Anti-Fairies. If she didn't get it from me, she'd go on to seek another Anti-Fairy who wouldn't hold back. Yes, I know those of us who find Fairies alluring are few and far between, but I'm not stupid enough to believe I'm the only one in my generation who exists. And if she went and found a new partner, where would that leave me? Struggling to remain her study partner while another drake kissed his or her way up her dainty arm every night? I don't think so… I'd hate to disappoint my dear friend.

Hmph… May as well burn together if we must burn at all.

Mark my words… I would be the one to show Blonda Fairywinkle a randy time! I simply had to show her a good time that no one else could give. Oh, yes… and if confronted, I had to sway Mona into believing it would be a good idea. Tch… She wouldn't be happy if we didn't talk it through. She and her monogamy… She and her rules…

As I floated across the dining hall, I happened to glance towards the archway that led into the kitchens. Anti-Wendy herself floated there, carrying a tower of shiny black plates. Several other Eros Nest drakes and dames came out alongside her. I frowned, tracing my claws through my scruffy blue hair. CAN Anti-Fairies mate with Fairy dames? I'd always heard the answer to be no, but if you could…

I made a decision then, leaned back against the nearest wall, and plucked out my monocle. This, I tapped against my fangs. I watched the way Anti-Wendy flowed like silk, fluid as water between the tables as she set out shimmering plates by hand. When she turned, I admired the curve of her wings as they led into her back… and the curve of her spine, the bend of her legs.

See… I'd already told Mona about my experience in the Eros Nest. Vaguely, anyway. I'd left out some of the details I thought might upset her, but I'd told her directly that Anti-Wendy and I had proceeded all the way to Stage 10. Mona hadn't left me yet. As far as I was concerned, she and I were in agreement that I considered Anti-Wendy a high-level relationship. I couldn't officially use the 'Stage 11' title without a dome crack, but the act of notable physical touch was present all the same.

Because I'd already served my duty in keeping Mona informed of my relations, Anti-Wendy was free for me to slip away to any hour that I pleased, yes? And if she didn't mind Anti-Wendy, why should she mind Wendy Prime, who used the Blonda name?

Did both counterparts have the same curves and shape to their bodies? Perhaps I could prepare for my encounters with Blonda by experimenting with Anti-Wendy while she was here. Perhaps not in winter, mind you, but when our paths crossed at Maplefeather Point next spring, it would be the dawn of Anti-Fairy mating season…

Better act soon, I thought then, scoffing inwardly. A dame whose eyes are already lit immediately draws the attention of every noble who's trying not to spread the virus far… She's more desirable because of it now than she's ever been before. If you want her, Julius, keep her carefully beneath your wing.

She caught me gazing at her then, blushed, and ducked her head. My wings thrummed. She blushed for me. She still liked me! I replaced my monocle and smiled back at her, which she noticed when her eyes flitted up. She quickly turned away. Her companions giggled, bumping her with their wings as they went about their work, setting the plates on the dining tables.

After Anti-Wendy returned to the kitchen to find more dishes, I flew to the upper part of the temple to check the courtyard sundial. The sky remained bright, sort of orange and pink. That's when I found myself in a scowling predicament. I didn't have enough time to unpack my clothing and possessions into my assigned ledge nook in our room… but I also had too much time to sit and wait at a table until my knees grew sore. Not that it was even my decision where we were to sit anyway…

A small commotion on the other side of the temple roof signalled Anti-Bryndin was in the area. Some of our weary visitors, it seemed, wanted the chance to meet and speak with him personally before he stepped inside the temple again and Winni overtook his body once more. Large pups clung to the legs of the adults, blinking at me curiously. No common anti-fairy pups, however. Of course not. Sigh. I technically wasn't the last of them, for a few more pregnancies came and went before the ban was final, but it does stink sometimes to be counted as one of the very, very youngest of your subspecies in existence, you know what I mean?

Well. In this cloudland colony, anyway. Who knows how many common anti-fairy babies are born in the other colonies every year.

I closed my eyes. If my plans went the way I hoped, Mona and I would have a child - a hosting counterpart child - of our own soon enough. Not quite yet. I couldn't do anything until Cosmo Prime could get me honey-locked, and a Fairy wasn't likely to marry until age 200,000 and above. Even then, since traditional common fairies paired for life, it would take time for Cosmo to commit to a partner he knew he'd cherish.

Soon… but not yet. Give it another 50,000 years. Someday, I would hold a child of my own against my shoulder… loving him and everything that goes with it.

My eyelids tightened a bit more. I prayed as I always did that Cosmo would fall in love with a damsel… because if he fell for drakes alone, I may have to interfere and tell him 'No.' Hopefully I wouldn't, but I couldn't research any nuance between honey-lock variations until I had the chance to see them play out. I'd come too far to give up my dreams over something silly like love. I had the patience for love as much as anyone, but if it got in the way of my goals, I'd have no problem snipping it from the equation.

I just needed the baby mandate lifted. Just for a short time. I needed Cosmo to pair with a damsel without any form of contraception. Any damsel; love was irrelevant. Perhaps even a drake would work, though I couldn't yet confirm. I needed Saffron Prime to pair with a drake at the same moment so that three months later, I could mate with Mona instead of my intended honey-lock partner. With both our fertile states switched on, if we were near each other, I imagined we could choose each other instead of our honey-lock partners. I'd simply ignore the siren call if it drove me towards anyone else. In that way, I could father my own biological child. In doing so, he'd be born before his Fairy match. The first soul of a new generation of hosting counterparts.

Then I would be happy.

I was just over 160,000 now… Not much longer, Julius. Not much longer. Just keep your patience a shred of time longer.

I decided to poke around for my mum. I thought it wouldn't be difficult, seeing as Anti-Bryndin was obviously on the opposite end of the temple roof and would certainly have his private guard nearby. However, after elbowing my way through the crowd of folks who both stood and hovered around the High Count and place in the rock garden, I was met with only disappointment.

Firstly, I could now see that Jorgen was here. I didn't particularly care about him; he was acting under orders, so he wouldn't likely get in my way. In the centre of the circle, Fairy-Coleen floated before Anti-Bryndin with an open box bearing several exquisite gemstones for the tongue. Only the finest offerings from the Fernfire Prime family and their sparkly mineral mines… Who would get to wear the High Count's favour now? How interesting. My curiosity pulled me forward, but I dug in my heels and didn't interrupt.

I didn't see my mum anywhere. I turned to go. But Anti-Bryndin saw me then and spread his arms. "Anti-Cosmo, it is perfection now! You are a noble of high enough rank for this task. You can please show Eastkal, prince of fairies, downstairs to his space."

I spun around again, gawking openly. "I'm sorry?" Prince of fairies? Show him downstairs?

"Eastkal," Anti-Bryndin repeated, as though that were a completely normal name to speak aloud during Anti-Fairy migration season. "Prince of fairies. I ask that you take him and Jorgen, Keeper of Da Rules, to the room where they will stay throughout their time in Cedarcross. Is this okay?"

"Um…" I leaned sideways to get a better look at the situation in front of me… Not that it made any difference. The crowd of Anti-Fairies floating in the rock garden was already shifting around to look at me, which meant they revealed the fairy prince in the process. Eastkal hadn't changed since I'd rescued him from Snowball the dragon, although now he could stand and his wounds had healed. He still had the same buttery yellow-brown hair that I remembered, plus his two-toned eyes in red and green. His moustache had grown faintly thicker. Most of his body lay hidden beneath a black cloak that didn't quite hug his figure, though it showcased his muscles well enough. They weren't as impressive as Jorgen's, but then, no one's ever would be. Eastkal stood straight on his own two legs with his arms folded, so I assumed he'd recovered magnificently since our last encounter in Faeheim.

Jorgen? He was still Jorgen… Purebred and massively tall because of it, easily able to pick me up in one hand and squeeze me by the throat. Gods, I swear he bulks up even more every time I see him… I averted my gaze from his well-muscled arms. You know, it's such a pity he had to be born the Keeper of Da Rules. It would be good fun to play around with him.

"Oh," I said. "That… is actually Prince Eastkal." How exactly was I meant to greet him? He was on our turf, and not only that, but I'd also heard that non-fairies didn't have to treat him like royalty. I mean… You know. We still extended respect to him as a member of a highly powerful family in the cloudlands, but we weren't under obligation to bow. Although now that I think on it… I'm not even sure fairies bow, really. Royalty is a fickle thing and frankly, the Fairy Council has always stood higher than them all.

Anti-Bryndin nodded, motioning for Eastkal to step towards me. "Anti-Florensa did take King Northiae down to the chamber for fairy travellers. Room 777. Anti-Cosmo, you can take the prince and Jorgen there. Is this okay?"

… Shouldn't that be Anti-Buster's job? Or at the very least, someone with more skill in combat than I? I'm not quite sure Anti-Bryndin grasped the fact that being my mother's son didn't guarantee me any of their self-defence skills.

Nonetheless… I bowed my head. "Yes, High Count." I knew Room 777. We rarely used it, the number considered far too lucky for most of us to bother with. I did not point out the fact that if I already knew exactly which room Eastkal, his father, and Jorgen would be staying in, every other Anti-Fairy on migration did too. Personally, I wouldn't want to tangle with the Keeper of Da Rules, but there's no guarantee every member of the Unseelie Court out there feels the same. It's a little strange to stay a few days in the centre of a huge gathering of Anti-Fairies, isn't it?

Then again, I suppose I can't fault them for visiting us in winter. In the old days, January and February were our months of torpor. Cedarcross is a calm and collected environment. They won't want to be near us when mating season kicks off in May.

Jorgen resisted any urge to call me puny, though one exchange of glances with him was more than enough to tell me he wasn't happy to be here. One of his relatives must have sent him on assignment. His mother Adelinda, most probably. I held back, hoping one of the two fairies would take the lead so I myself didn't have to walk with that massive star-tipped staff at my back… but alas, twas not to be. Both fairies stared at me until I moved my wings. Sigh. I much prefer to follow behind.

"Hmph," Eastkal muttered though, pulling his hooded cloak a little farther over his eyes. As we moved back into the tunnels, he said, "Your High Count just brushed me off for a few gemstones… I'm prince of the common fairies, and nearly a fellow ambassador on the Council. He could show me a little more respect."

"I'm sorry, sir." I didn't volunteer anything else. I kept my eyes forward as we floated down the stone passageway, lit with low-burning torches. If the prince needed someone to comfort his emotions, Jorgen was right there to do so. That wasn't my job.

"The High Count called you Anti-Cosmo. You're the anti-fairy I met in Faeheim."

Oh, come off it. Was he trying to get me thrown back in the Eros Nest, only a few months since I left that place? I grit my fangs. "I do seem to recall our paths crossed near the Water Temple, yes. I go there sometimes to meditate and reflect." Anti-Fairies are allowed to visit the zodiac temples. They're ours, after all, from before the war that split the sky. It would be far more suspicious in Jorgen's eyes, I think, if I denied my involvement entirely. I decided to switch subjects before Eastkal could ask me anything else. "Pray tell, if I may ask… What brings you and your father to Cedarcross this year? I don't believe I've seen you here before."

"I never got to thank you."

I stopped walking, my arms frozen at my side. Eastkal nearly ran right into me. I heard Jorgen's signals in the energy field shift from the sound of stacking toy blocks to fingernails on wood. "What's this?"

"Oh, no, not that," Eastkal corrected. "I just meant… You showed me how to navigate the Water Temple."

My fangs bit into my lower lip. I knew I shouldn't turn around. I knew it. But I did. Eastkal watched me with his two-tone eyes stretched wide, pleading at me, while Jorgen stood behind him looking hesitant and confused. His mouth has twisted down, but his brows had shot straight up.

"It was a favour, Prince… Let's not speak of it here."

"Fairies don't like open-ended favours, and I'm the prince. I'm honour-bound to return it."

"… Ah. I should have known. Um… I brought along an old traveller's cloak with a tear along the hem. Would your debt be repaired if I were to bring it to you for mending?"

His moustache twitched as he wrinkled his nose. "I should think not! After all, you saved my life, and that deserves the highest payment I can give. I'd have been dead if you hadn't intervened. You became a dragon for me."

I whipped full around, my jaw dropping open. Jorgen stared right back at me, absolute shock bleeding across his well-chiseled face. "Please don't tell!" I blurted. My hands flew up, clapping across my mouth. "Oh my gods, Eastkal… Please… Prince, I beg your pardon, but this mountain is full of Anti-Fairy ears. If… if they choose to believe that thing you said, I could be cast out of my colony. Every colony!" Hadn't I warned him of that when first we met? Hadn't I requested he keep his praise for me completely private? I wracked my brain, fighting for the scraps of memory, but the pounding of magic in my veins distracted all my thoughts. I shook my head, but that didn't stop the swirling questions.

Eastkal studied me for a moment, then bowed his neck to me. "You have nothing to fear, Anti-Cosmo… You saved my life, and I don't intend that thanks to go unrewarded. Jorgen is a common fairy. He answers to me."

I wasn't so sure about that. Anti-Fairy culture is strict about its shapeshifting laws, because to change into improper forms is to insult our Chimera ancestors. Not only them, but also the Cycling Hen who first created us and the Great Universe Queen Whose Names Anti-Fairy Tongues Do Not Speak, who provides the physical forms we hold- for without Her, we would all be not but dust and smoke and mist.

My culture is ruthlessly stringent with its traditions and customs. Even in modern times, nearly everyone curls their lip at a poor sap whose fagiggly gland has gone good. Should your counterpart's organ fail them, your days as a respectable Anti-Fairy can be numbered on one hand. Anti-Lance told me once that while I was trapped inside Liloei's lamp, an intern of the Anti-Fairy Council had her gland go good and then lost every ounce of political progress that she'd made. I don't know what happened to her. I hear she didn't get a gland transplant and was eventually trapped in the shape of a hand mirror: frozen in that state and unable to reverse the spell.

And now my secret wasn't even honoured by the common fairy prince? Why, look at who was standing with us! Jorgen would be Keeper of Da Rules after his mother Adelinda someday, and he served the Fairy Council. The Keepers who'd arrested me hadn't listened to my protests of innocence. They'd dragged me to the Eros Nest and wiped their hands clean. Personally, I felt like I had an abundance of worries weighing on my mind.

My hands began to shake. I slid them down my neck, pressed them to my chest, and tried to narrow the amount of magic I was drawing from Fairy-Cosmo's core. Not too much. Not too much. "Are you well?" Eastkal asked, watching in some surprise.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I can't stop…" As my panic grew, my body writhed in desperation for more and more of Cosmo's magic. No, no… The thought of wasting it - wasting our limited life force on trivial hyperventilating - only made me panic harder. I tried to slam my mental hands over the spout, but magic leaked around those invisible fingers and flooded beneath my skin. No, no, no! Prickles ran up my arms. I could feel my body pulsing, twitching, as my veins guzzled up all that they could reach. Eastkal put his head to one side like he didn't know what to make of me. Royals, I'm sure, enjoy such unfathomably cushy lives with their high magic supplies that they rarely get stressed out. They certainly aren't burdened with my plight.

But Jorgen at once realized what was up. He made a small tube with his right hand and blew sparks of magic from his palm in my direction. I think he would have liked to put his entire hand over my face, but he restrained himself in Eastkal's presence. I clutched my hands near my chest, mostly, occasionally alternating them to my forehead, until I calmed down a few minutes later. My wings still fluttered at my back, but I couldn't just up and waste the prince's time… I couldn't just stand in the hall…

"Y-yes… I'm all right."

But are you? Fairy-Cosmo seemed to ask inside my head. I felt him stretch ethereal fingers my way, groping for a touch, and I'd never felt more grateful in my life for the advanced link with him my adult wings had brought me. I felt him so much more clearly now than I had while in our youth. My brain stirred. I felt his posture. Felt the cricks in his back, the strain on his wings from a long day of work, and the heavy tiredness in his eyes. I felt myself slipping towards an Anti-Fairy mind-meld right then and there. I could taste peaches on his tongue.

Was I really fine? What an interesting question. I took a moment more to fiddle with my shirt sleeves, trying to pat and cool my face. Fairy-Cosmo hovered on the edge of my consciousness. His workday exhaustion would not stand in the way of him taking the ladle to pour more sparks in my share of our magic pool. At least, I think that's what I read in him. I focused on Cosmo - on the shape of him, the tremble in his muscles, the dryness of his lips - and used that to ground myself in a more focused reality. It began to work. I reached a mental hand towards him, which he grasped in his own. We held each other and I slowly steadied out.

I'm okay.

Dame Cosmo hadn't paid either of us a lick of attention, but then, she very rarely does. Adulthood is funny that way; since Fairy-Cosmo is our host, I'd always been aware of his physical and mental health and the secondhand effect of it on my life ever since I was a pup (albeit to a limited degree). Adulthood had changed that; now, I never went a day without the feel of Fairy-Cosmo's emotions ragged beneath my skin. I don't know if it works the same way for Fairies, but I'm certain he'd say the same thing about me.

But feeling Dame Cosmo's stress levels spike was still rather new to me. I'd heard Refracts tend to be stuffy as a species, so maybe that's why she didn't answer. We never got a response from her unless her adrenaline shot from 0 to 100. I'm not quite sure what she does with her life, but when she bursts into motion, she always comes across as thrilled. Not afraid. I think Fairy-Cosmo and I both find some sick pleasure in the thought that at least one third of our soul likely doesn't have to run and hide from Keepers and their flashy blue uniforms. She must be doing all right for herself.

Another several minutes passed. After I'd regained my composure and we'd exchanged a few words to confirm such, Eastkal reached out for my bare hand. I looked at him, reluctant, then extended it palm-down for his examination. He seized my fingers in his own.

"My desire to repay you isn't something I can easily ignore. I know you may wish to refuse me for the sake of your pride… I understand that. But I am honour-bound by Da Rules I faithfully hold myself to, so I extend my request regardless."

I blinked, twice. "Oh?" Just the thought of juggling the prince's needs would get me stressed again soon enough. Did he know that? He nodded, but not in reply to my stuttered thoughts.

"I have multiple tasks to accomplish in spending a week among the Anti-Fairies, but it was the hope of seeing you again that spurred my wings to visit this year in particular, before the memory of what I owe weighs upon me in guilt. Before you reject my offer, please set an appointment to dine with me… or walk through the gardens if you prefer. I owe you my life. We can discuss the details of my favour then."

To owe a favour can be a dangerous and powerful thing… but to own another's favour might be even more so. I stared down at our linked hands, then carefully eased mine out of his grip. "I'll think about it, Prince Common Fairy… I appreciate the kind invitation. And whatever answer I choose, I'll be certain to let you know so you aren't left wondering if I will."

There.

The remainder of our walk through the corridor was shaky, but uneventful. I brought the two fairies all the way to Room 777. This is where I was introduced to King Northiae, as well as reunited with my mother. The king treated me with light respect, but though I remained tense, he didn't acknowledge if he knew me. He didn't even reference Fairy-Cosmo when he saw my face. Eastkal walked in a circle around his room, swishing his wand… Perhaps checking it for hexes, though I'd never seen someone use magic to find them. Then he nodded.

"This will do. Please send my anti-fairy up so I may speak with him as soon as is convenient."

Um… What? Time stretched around me, warping my concentration. My skin felt as though someone were dragging thick fingernails down my arms, cutting into me like butter. I blinked. My lashes may as well have been passing through honey. "Er…"

Was… was I still allowed to speak to him directly now that my mother was in the room? The High Count's personal guard outranked me, so ordinarily the proper thing to do would be to relay my message in their ear and they would relay it to the royals on my behalf. Prince Eastkal, however, was now looking directly at me. So I drew my effervescence in close and spoke with care.

"No, Prince Eastkal. I'm sorry."

The prince adjusted his wings. He didn't seem particularly bothered, but he asked me why not anyway. Um. For a moment, all I could do was stare at him. Even my mother looked undeniably taken aback, and I'm sure all three fairies in the room knew it. I mean, what good is it to read the shape of someone standing behind you if you can't put it to use when it matters?

"I can extend an invitation," I managed to say. That gave Anti-Eastkal the opportunity to accept or reject the meeting. I just hoped Fairy-Eastkal wouldn't look down on his counterpart if Anti-Eastkal didn't want to come. Shortly after this, I excused myself from the room. My mother said they would meet me in a moment. I didn't care. I hurried through the cold stone corridor, making my way towards the grand dining hall.

'Send my anti-fairy up…' Who does this drake think he is? I shook my head. Eastkal was prince over a single subspecies of Fairy. There are many people in the cloudlands equally as powerful as him… Anti-Bryndin alone holds a far more powerful title, speaking for the Anti-Fairies as a whole on par with the Anti-Fairy Council.

Prince Eastkal may live in the Pink Castle, he may inherit the common fairy seat on the Council someday, but that didn't give him any right to order us around. His counterpart was not his shadow. Anti-Eastkal had his own rights and independence too.

When I reached the next hall, a POOF! cloud thick with grey dust popped into existence right in front of me. I jerked back, shocked by the sudden use of hot and stuffy magic, and coughed on sparkly dust. Flecks of it hit the black rug beneath my feet. What in smoke? How did he do that? I thought starpiece magic didn't work inside the temple! Did he draw from a different source? To chase me? When it cleared, Jorgen stood in front of me: thick legs spread for balance, both hands clutching his massive star-tipped staff.

"Anti-Cosmo…"

"Jorgen," I wheezed around my itching throat. Jorgen held out the staff to bar my way. I enjoyed a face full of brightly glowing star, then slowly turned my attention to his eyes. Once I did, he moved the staff away from mine.

"I want the full story of what happened to Prince Eastkal in Faeheim. Is it true?"

Oh, that bumbling… I pressed my tongue tightly to the roof of my mouth, counted to five, then released the tension in my limbs. "Is what true, old chap? You'll need to be more specific. I haven't the foggiest idea what you're referring to."

"Were you the silver dragon that saved the city?" His voice came out more softly than I would have anticipated, considering his size and the muscles that he wielded even back then. I gazed back at him, silent, with my hands clenched down by my sides.

"I think you already know the answer to that question, Jorgen… and you know just as well that to transform outside my family name is forbidden. I'd prefer we didn't speak of it."

Jorgen blinked. "I ventured inside the Cave of Destiny. I saw what was done to Snowball the dragon. The presence of ice-cold Anti-Fairy magic was unmistakable. So it was you who disabled the beast's central head… and your counterpart who first unleashed it on the city in the first place. It only makes sense that you were pulled there to keep the balance in the area, and bring good luck in response to the bad luck caused by Cosmo himself."

Good luck. Bad luck. He threw around the terms incorrectly, not truly understanding what they mean. My eye twitched. I turned my head slightly to one side. The tips of my claws bit against my palms. "Don't sound so surprised… You did show up when the Head Pixie and I were enjoying the view and practically order us to get involved or else abandon Faeheim altogether. I don't know why I bother, really… I wasn't thanked when I did. Or if my getting arrested was my thanks, it's a bloody cruel way to receive it, you know what I mean?"

Jorgen stared down at me, feeling for words with his oversized mouth. I stared up at him, my brows drawn tightly over my eyes. Finally, the fairy broke eye contact. "Let me say it back… to ensure I understand. You saved the common fairy prince… and the Keepers threw you in the Eros Nest for illegally sneaking across the border to do so? … A crime should never go unpunished, but a favour is a powerful thing. You saved a life in choosing to step in. This is not the justice I've come to expect from the Fairy Council."

"Well, I was ruled innocent at my trial, so I heard. The Head Pixie spoke in my defence and even hired Mary Black to be my lawyer. I can hardly fault the holding cell for being what it was."

"Then you were the silver dragon," he checked, squinting down at me.

"I am the second to youngest descendant in the line of Her Glory Cadmea, who is the Teumessian fox, and the youngest descendant of His Glory Perez, lord of the rats. I bear the Anti-Lunifly name. Why should I betray she who passed her shapeshifting down through my bloodline? To become anything besides a fox would be a disgrace to my ancestry."

I thought my words rather touching and poetic. Jorgen, however, glared down at me with his teeth set like a viper's. He nudged his massive staff a little closer to my skin. I leaned away. The magic crackling off the glowing tip would leave a notable burn scar on my face. Of that, I was certain.

"I know it was you, Anti-Cosmo."

"No, you don't. You won't get a confession out of me, darling. All you have to draw upon is Eastkal's testimony. And quite frankly, I think he was wounded and delirious at the time."

I moved to walk around his thick leg. Jorgen did not try to stop me. My steps were a little slower now, a little more anxious, and it wasn't long before my mother joined me. They fluffed their tall black curls in one hand and drove straight into the hard-hitting questions. Lovely. I hadn't even caught my balance after Jorgen's demands yet.

"I saw your disgraceful goody-goody brother sneaking about with another colony today. Even that Anti-Rose dame he used to fawn over was nowhere to be found. Please tell me at least that one of my sons is a creche father now… You still are, aren't you, Anti-Cosmo-lo-lo? Or did that change between the last time I saw you and tonight?"

Ugh. I fingered the edge of my monocle, mainly because in doing so I could partly block my view of my mother's piercing blue eyes with my hand. "Yes, I was… and still technically am, but Anti-Lance and I have an arrangement… See, his father doesn't believe he's worthy to be future creche father of the Anti-Sundive colony, so for paperwork reasons, I am registered as one of his subordinate drakes while on migration. There are more drakes than damsels in Anti-Lance's colony, believe me, and I wish to support him as much as I believe he would support me if the tables were turned."

Scoffing, "That's not the point… Bending for another creche father is disgraceful. Why, what would your grandfathers say? By the time he was your age, Anti-Gonzo had seven damsels and a follower under his wing. Even my father Anti-Jasper had at least three dames I knew of. For smoke's sake, look at Anti-Bryndin as a role model… He had eight of his own when I married him, not even counting those he was destined to inherit upon his father's death." They shook their head. "Don't slack while you're young or you'll struggle down the road. You don't want to end up like your snivelling kitchen maid of a father, mind."

Granddad Anti-Gonzo didn't bother providing for his own sons. He left them with Grandnana Anti-Starling in a traditional Fairy World estate until the war broke out and he had no choice but to step up. "With all due respect, Mother, I'm doing my best as I see fit. You don't know what it's like to be an Anti-Fairy drake. Three quarters of our population is made up of damsels- it makes it so much more difficult to find drake friends you can trust. I like Anti-Lance."

This earned me a whack of their bo staff on my buttocks. I sprang forward, throwing my hands up to block my face. Through my fingers, I could see my mother staring back at me. Surprise etched into all their features. Then it smoothed over into a hardened mask. They thunked the butt of their staff against the stone between us.

"Well, don't think life is particularly easy for damsels, either…"

Oh? I rolled my eyes. "Yes, it must be so difficult to flit around your entire life and have your every whim catered to, all without needing to find work or cough up a single coin. What a terrible life you must live as someone who must only manage their own needs and not the needs of a dozen others at the same time. You must truly be suffering as a person not expected to attend Anti-Fairy Academy courses more complex than cooking, planting seeds, dancing, and sewing. And of course, forgive me for not expressing condolences over the fact that you so impressed Anti-Bryndin after whipping his tail at the Festival of Energy, he leapt at the chance to take you as his bride. Forgive me for the lack of sympathy I have shown to someone who sings with the bloody High Count himself every night he pleases! The second most powerful damsel in all of Hy-Brasil! Your life must be so astoundingly hard."

My mother's face went purple. The colour emphasised the burn scars across the right side of their face, and in a sudden panic, I wondered if I'd gone too far. Had I? Their bo staff came swinging at me again, this time whacking hard against my shoulder. I flinched, not getting my hands up quite fast enough to defend against the second smack that came the other way.

"Fate has been kind to me, Anti-Cosmo… Why, is it so wrong for a single mother to wish the same success upon her sons?"

"Fate wasn't kind to ME!" In perhaps the most impulsive thing I'd ever done in my life, I grabbed the bo staff out of their hand and threw it aside on the floor. It hit the black rugs, at least, and didn't snap. My mother, startled, drew back with a flap of their wings. They pressed themself against the wall. I flung my own wings to either side, upturning my claws. "The only reason I'm even in Anti-Lance's colony is because I'm away at a Fairy high school- I'm Anti-Bryndin's guinea pig, testing the waters of Fairy opinion for his son and daughter! Anti-Phillip shouldn't even be the High Count's heir! It would have been me! ME!"

Was I screeching? Oh gods, I was screaming… My mother crept forward with arms outstretched for physical touch, their eyes tiny pricks of pale blue. No. I fell backwards, clapping my palms to my own eyes, and groaned as I rubbed them around.

"Don't think I don't know it, Mother… The Head Pixie told me all about it. The inheritance laws shifted following the War of the Sunset Divide. Why, if we'd still used the Fairy legal system at the time of my birth shortly thereafter, then as the eldest offspring of Anti-Bryndin by marriage, the colony and castle would have gone to Anti-Robin… and then to me if he were disinherited upon becoming estranged. A pixie confirmed it. A pixie! Don't talk to me about the cruelty and kindness of fate. Losing my inheritance by a shift in a border line… Living under the same roof as my father, but only learning his identity after he went to smoke… The tremendous joke that was my betrothal night… Trapping myself inside a genie's lamp for the majority of my childhood… Losing my job at the chocolate factory… Arrested in Faeheim… Fate's never done a bloody kind thing for me."

My mother… said nothing for a moment, staring at me with hands clutching empty air. Then they looked away down the hall. "I… did often wonder if accepting Anti-Bryndin's invitation to the Blue Castle colony was truly the best option for me and your unborn brother. The High Count was a prince back then. Your father conceived during the Seven Festivals. I had a mere 13 days to adjust to that revelation while simultaneously trying to balance my own life and prepare. Accepting Anti-Bryndin's proposal meant leaving my mother and brother in the Far West region. And if I'd said 'No'… then both of us would be leading much different lives. I sometimes wonder if frayed knots line my karmic weave… if I changed my descendants' fates for the better or the worse because I said 'Yes.'"

I made a face. Describing the threads of their karmic weave to their own child seemed… in poor taste. I didn't particularly want to know how many braids wove between their weave and Anti-Bryndin's. "You don't understand what it's like to be this close to heaven, Mother. I have damsels at my door, begging me - nay, throwing themselves at my feet - for the chance to sing with me, and a soulmate who insists on clutching me close with monogamous chains. I have intellect unparalleled in Anti-Fairy World or perhaps the cloudlands as a whole, yet very little chance at gaining an invite to the Fairy Academy when I leave Carl Poofypants behind." I shook my head, long hair bouncing at the back of my neck. It had spiked out as magic crackled beneath my skin. "You don't understand… You've already risen as high in status as you can go, second only to Anti-Elina. You don't know what it's like to live day in and day out knowing you aren't even welcome in your creche father's colony, let alone welcome as his heir."

"If you envy Anti-Bryndin so much, you should perhaps think long and hard about the reason why I named you Pag-sün d'eskel, of all things."

It was my turn to flush furiously and yank my arm away. "Of course it would be you, Mother! I always knew it was really you… Your family speaks Vatajasa and Anti-Robin didn't even recognize me as his when I was born. Oh, how I despise that name… My own children won't be forced to carry a moniker they're embarrassed to speak aloud, mark my words."

My mother gazed at me a moment… Potentially with pity, while I steamed and stewed on heavy wings. Then they reached out to cup my cheek in their hand. "Don't hate the war for depriving you of a Blue Castle inheritance, Anti-Cosmo-lo-lo. Blame the war for depriving you of a grandparent, me of the father I never knew, and your grandnana of a fairy husband she dearly loved. Hate the war for depriving you of life in Esterale."

I lightly smacked their hand away with the back of my own. "I'll hate the war for whatever reason I damn please. Don't baby me with cutesy names… I've never liked a single one you've given me. At least your counterpart had good taste."

"'Conceived under milbark trees' is a perfectly fine Vatajasa name. And your brother's is equally nice: 'Thousand kisses of the birds.'"

"Hmph. Naming me 'Conceived by a man who wasn't king' would be all the more fitting."

They shoved their staff at me, head bowed, and stormed off without so much as waiting for me to spurt an apology. I rubbed my still-stinging arm, frowning after them, but didn't try asking what line I'd crossed. You never really knew with my mother.

So that was my first afternoon in Cedarcross. Downstairs, I met up with Anti-Lance, Mona, and the rest of my colony in the dining hall. At least there I could stand on familiar ground. Old friends of mine - Anti-Julian, Anti-Edmin, Anti-Kyler, and even my cousin Anti-Poof - sat with them around our table. But I stopped moving when I saw the anti-swanee kneeling on the cushion between Anti-Lance and Anti-Saffron. Horns still covered beneath the traditional winged hat of his species- despite his high rank as prince, he did not outrank his father, the High Count, so they remained tucked away for now. Alas… The inevitable return of Mona's dear friend and confidant, who really shouldn't have surprised me at all.

Anti-Phillip…

Anti-Blade apparently sensed my ping of alarm in the energy field and identified the sound as me. He rotated towards me and caught my eye. When I stared at him, trying to convey shock and disgust with my eyes, he nodded back. At the same time he shrugged in distress, gesturing towards the prince with one wing.

I didn't invite him, he seemed to be saying, and now we're BOTH at risk of losing the dame.

I ground my fangs. I ask you, where does this drake get off repeatedly charming my betrothed? Does he think that I don't notice? Does he think she hasn't told me of him before? To clarify, I'm referring to the prince. At least Anti-Blade was honest in his dealings. He didn't hide it from me. I nearly left the dining room then just to take a moment to myself.

It never really bothered me that Mona allowed Anti-Blade to flirt with her. I understood his interest in her: she was a literal reincarnation of his past life's partner. In the face of that truth, I could hardly compete. But Anti-Phillip? The nasal-voiced little shrew who struggled so much with regular conversation, he drifted towards the pixies whenever they were around? He'd asked twice in the past to court her. Mona had refused, as she should. What could she possibly see in him?

The fact that he's a prince comes to mind.

It hit me like a whip of thorns. My wingbeats faltered. I landed on the floor and walked the remaining steps to the table. Mona had always valued status. I mean, all damsels do, but… you know what I mean. Mona always encouraged my ambition, requesting I seek a higher position in life than that of a lowly castle servant. She pushed me to join a bachelor's colony. Becoming a follower drake wasn't good enough for her. Would I even hold her attention if I became creche father the way my mother wanted me to be?

Whatever is the point in trying? So long as she can have a prince… Why would she choose anyone else?

Perhaps I was being unfair. When Mona previously told me at Maplefeather Point that she'd rejected Anti-Phillip's advances twice in my absence… I did admire that. She'd been clear with me this month, too, when she'd warned that the attraction she felt for Anti-Blade was pressing back against her intentions of lifelong monogamy.

If Mona doesn't want me… At least let her choose Anti-Blade. Losing her wouldn't hurt so badly if I knew she did it out of love for an old flame, not the temporary temptation of a prince who dared flirt with her behind my back.

Crossing my arms, I took the last seat at the table next to Anti-Poof. My cousin offered me a smile, so at least I had that. Thankfully, the supper conversation was tolerable. We discussed school, mostly, along with the Castle and my friends' bachelor colony experiences. Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina called all attention on them for their traditional migration speech, then we feasted. I stayed for appetisers (mine without cheese), hot soup, and salad, but left while the meat dishes were served. After Anti-Binky's abuses in the Eros Nest, it just wasn't my thing… and I didn't think it ever would be again.

I rejoined for the palette cleanser and first round of dessert: strawberry yoghurt. This was one of our lighter sweets, and after this point, the wine we'd been sipping throughout the night would be replaced with soda upon request. An entire banquet table of candy bars, sweets, and cookies would be wheeled out on the far side of the room.

As I watched Anti-Phillip lean his head close to Anti-Saffron's, asking her some unimportant question he didn't need the answer to, I decided to intervene before he could begin blaming his flirtations on growing sugarloaded. The moment the cleaning staff collected the yoghurt dishes off our table - and before Anti-Phillip could start up a new conversation or find an excuse to leave - I stood, walked around the table, and butted my head directly against his cheek. Hard, in fact. He frowned back at me, rubbing his face.

"A-Anti-Cosmo? Sh-shouldn't you… Um…" He flicked his eyes towards Anti-Lance, then back at me. When I didn't move, he added a bob of his head. "You know…"

"Shouldn't I what? Voice my request of settling terms to my creche father and wait until he relays them to you rather than approaching you directly? Come off it… We grew up in the same colony. As a Water year, I outrank you. Let's not forget colony structure, the zodiac, and the Aurora Fairyalis predate modern titles of nobility."

Anti-Phillip's frown deepened. Nonetheless, he made the universal two-fingered flicking sign for Let's take this to roost. Gladly. We flew up to use the metal bars installed along the arched ceiling. I spoke to him while the cavern below us bustled with the noise of flapping wings, chattering voices, with mothers and creche fathers shepherding youth out of the area so they might find another spot to "go play" for the rest of the evening.

For a Soil year, Anti-Phillip backed down quick. He's always sort of been a people pleaser. I suppose he gets at least some of that from his father, but without the Communication spirit to lace his words with charm. I tried to hold my anger steady, tried to remember that Anti-Phillip was a follower drake, and that it had always been acceptable in Anti-Fairy culture for a follower to seek damsels under another creche father's wing… but I'm allowed to set boundaries. I didn't want him anywhere near Anti-Saffron.

"Are you married?" he asked me once, as innocent as could be.

"… No. Not yet. I soon will be." I knew exactly what he meant. Marital ties would be respected, to a point. But what the prince requested, the prince could have.

After we parted, the prince didn't return to his seat with us. I followed Anti-Phillip with my eyes all the way back to the high table, then groaned behind my fangs. Evidently, Anti-Bryndin's honoured guest - the Head Pixie - had arrived tonight. Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, Anti-Wanda had told me the High Count signed a contract with him to allow pixies to file our paperwork. Pixies!

The man sat in Anti-Bryndin's usual winged chair, which told me all I needed to know about him maintaining equilibrium since last we met. He sipped from a goblet while watching me with the most disinterested expression I had ever seen. I tried to tell myself he was only keeping one eye on the prince, but prickled embarrassment still caked my skin as I reflected on how venomous my reaction to Anti-Phillip had been. My mother sat at the high table too, equally watching me with fingers folded over their mouth.

I looked away from them both and tugged down the hem of my shirt. I don't care if Anti-Phillip is the prince. He shouldn't try seducing my dame.

When I returned to my seat, Anti-Lance glanced at the Head Pixie, then at me again. "I can't stand that guy," he muttered, sitting back with folded arms.

"Who? The Head Pixie? I didn't realise you two were acquainted."

"I haven't spoken to him myself, but I've read all his public statements and sometimes he speaks loudly when I'm nearby during the Seven Festivals. He claims to support Anti-Fairies by voting for the Shadow Bridge and Night Bridge to be rebuilt, but despite managing several businesses, I don't see him donating a click to us. He can't even respect our ceremonies or speak properly about the zodiac." Anti-Lance lifted one hand slightly to give it a wave. "Earlier this evening, I was talking to Anti-Elina about school. Then the Head Pixie came in and called some of the anti-pixies by their anti-names. He acted like he didn't hear us when we corrected him. The Head Anti-Pixie just let him walk by. Apparently, he and the High Count are working on some project that requires a great deal of paperwork. He must be paying a great deal of cash if the High Count is putting up with this kind of disrespect, and I don't like that about Anti-Bryndin either."

I leaned back to survey the dining room. The Head Anti-Pixie was incredibly easy to pick out of the crowd with his bright green colour and clashing outfit. He sat in the corner because no one else would linger near him, apart from my brother. I spied several anti-pixies playing on the floor nearby, including Ennet, though Ennet knelt at the table with his face buried in his crossed arms. "Hm," I said. "I can't speak for the Head Pixie, but perhaps we shouldn't judge him too harshly, you know what I mean? He's raising an extraordinary amount of pixies, after all. I think in their species, all that work gets piled on the dominant drake. He's like their creche father, only instead of marrying wives and concubines to assist him with the childcare duties, he's chosen to work alone. It's because he's so pernickety about keeping organised. The pixies you see with him are all his nephews, you know. I think his brother went to dust when Ennet's counterpart was young."

This comment earned me a long scowl from Anti-Lance, though several of the others at our table dropped their gazes to their hands. "Nephews, my crown," he seethed. "He's just addicted to one-night stands and casual affairs. There are no other adult pixies. Start doing the math and you'll realize all the little ones are born on a schedule that lines up eerily with the common fairy reproductive cycle. I swear he shows up with a new one every 500 years, and that can't be a coincidence."

Anti-Lance had me going for a moment, but then I scoffed and shook my head. "No, surely not. I won't believe it. It's the Fairy drakes who grow pregnant, darling! If he were expecting, we would have seen it in the papers. I've heard from his own mouth that they're his nephews. Mister Sanderson, at least."

While Anti-Lance twitched his wings, Anti-Poof reached into the center of the table to turn all eyes his way. Quietly, he said, "I don't see how they could possibly be born from affairs… All the young pixies look alike. Surely their looks would differ greatly if he were a serial lover. I think the Head Pixie is just private about his personal life. He's a high-profile individual. It's not unusual for a drake like that to keep his wife out of the public eye."

"Yes," I said, remembering another fact then. "He was raised by a common fairy father. The common fairy subspecies considers serial monogamy as something sinful. If he does have more than one lover, he must be keeping such things secretive to avoid his father's disrespect. But, as Anti-Poof said, it seems peculiar that the young pixies look so much alike. One glance at the anti-pixies makes it clear that Anti-Fergus's genes are strong, but even then, I imagine variation would exist if he were seeing other partners. I say we don't worry about the Head Pixie's wife or wives, if any. He'll share his life when he's ready to do."

"Well," said Anti-Lance, "I don't hold it against him if he wants affairs. I just have a hard time believing he's not politically motivated. I've never known so many offspring to be born to a single individual in history. It seems to me that he's acquiring a following. His offspring are almost all drones, too. I don't trust a gyne who doesn't support Waterberry v. Reddinski. If he doesn't even respect the rights of his own children, I doubt there's a single redeeming thing about him."

I didn't have an answer to that. A cold, hard pill settled in the bottom of my throat. Was that true? I'd heard once that the Head Pixie nearly killed Reddinski in a gyne fight a few millennia back, but Reddinski fled rather than accept his fate. I'd just assumed the Head Pixie supported the Waterberry ruling. Jack Waterberry cared about the rights of drones.

The Head Pixie paid for Mary Black when I needed a lawyer… and he kept my secret transformation under wraps better than Prince Eastkal did.

It didn't sit right with me that a childhood hero of mine might not be everything I thought he was. I'd have to do a little research on this.

"And that's another thing," said Anti-Lance, snapping me back into the conversation. When I looked up, he was staring right at me. "You've had a few 1 on 1 encounters with the Head Pixie, haven't you, Anti-Cosmo?"

"Yes…?" I'd first met him at the chocolate factory I worked for when I was young. I'd recorded his behaviour on ethograms during my internship at the Eros Nest, though there were always at least two other cherubs with me at the time. Occasionally, when he came to visit Anti-Bryndin, he'd speak to me about his pixies. That was mainly because Anti-Bryndin regularly tasked me with keeping tabs on them, as I was a drake and that was an expected request to give me as I got older and showed no signs of leaving the colony. Chores are burdened especially high on those the creche father politely wishes would leave. My most notable encounter with the Head Pixie was likely the time he'd spoken to me about the inheritance laws and the unfortunate timing of my birth, but we'd had other conversations, too.

My friends spent more and more time outdoors when we were young bachelors or focused on their Anti-Fairy Academy studies. Being an introvert, not to mention the son of the High Count's personal guard, I was regularly asked to keep an eye on hallways when Anti-Bryndin and the Head Pixie entered them together. The Head Pixie called me out multiple times for eavesdropping on those conversations, but I never did any harm. When he's in a foreign home, he should anticipate guards and certain policies. And of course, he and I had spoken when Snowball the dragon was ravaging Faeheim. Neither of us knew the other would be in the area, but I'd stayed near him because, well, he seemed to have his own safety under control. Why fly into danger when I could stay there and trust he had my back?

I'd had 1 on 1 conversations with him, but I didn't quite understand Anti-Lance taking issue with that. At least, not until the next words came out of his mouth: "The Head Pixie is at least 350,000 years older than you, yet I've actually watched him pull you into a side hall multiple times so he can talk to you 'in private.' I've literally seen him bring you flowers. Don't you think that's a little weird?"

I was just over 160,000 at the time of this conversation. "If you're implying the Head Pixie considers me an easy piece of tail," I replied, my face smarting purple, "then I thank you for your genuine concern, but I assure you I can take care of myself. He's older than my mother and he's never tried anything on with me. He brings me flowers because I told him once I placed a curse on him that will kill the flowers in his home, and he's a petty man who insists on reminding me I did that."

No one else at the table was looking at either of us, their gazes locked on their dining bowls. Anti-Lance tilted his head, stretching one wing. "I've seen him come up to you during Seven Festivals ceremonies. I wouldn't be shocked if he approaches you while we're here on migration. He seems to single you out specifically. Why does he keep cornering a drake who's still new to his adult wings and talking you up alone? And giving you flowers is because 'He's petty'? I can't see a single appropriate justification for that behavior, and especially not across the border in Fairy World. We might be adults in Anti-Fairy World, but we're both counted underage over there. I don't think he's scouting out a new business partner."

"My father met the Head Pixie in person once. He was younger then, nowhere near becoming Head yet, but he did a favour in providing my father food when my uncle Anti-Hawk's counterpart fell ill. The shopkeepers in the area wouldn't allow an anti-fairy to purchase goods, but the Head Pixie stood up for my father back then. Anti-Robin repaid this favour by showing kindness to the Head Pixie's outcast counterpart. You remember Anti-Fergus. Even now, my brother provides nanny care to the anti-pixies. The Head Pixie knows me because he knows my brother and father. He knows me because my mother is a very well-known individual. He knows me because I was raised in the Blue Castle colony, and this is a location he visits to speak with the High Count for political reasons. He remembers my blue hair, monocle, and green irises."

My looks were unique in many ways. I had the colored eyes of nobility. The light hair of my father's family. A unique piece of eyewear. The Head Pixie spoke with me because he recognised me. He wasn't being weird.

I tightened my claws then against the table's edge. "I won't deny the Head Pixie struggles to be culturally sensitive. He's had too many odd slips of the tongue to be innocent. But in a way, I think that proves my point. Blue hair is uncommon in our land, and especially in the High South region he most often visits. He speaks to me because he recognizes me. He speaks to me because few drakes make their home in the Blue Castle, and the damsels there are forbidden to speak with him. He addresses me because he wants to. It doesn't mean he's taking advantage of my youth. Never has he invited me to spend a private moment with him and attempted to touch or sway me into doing something wildly inappropriate. He addresses me only to ask about my family, his pixies, and my future. Let us not speak of this again."

Anti-Lance resisted. He held up two fingers to indicate his intent to speak his honest reply, and my core sank as he frowned at me. "Anti-Cosmo, I don't mean to be insensitive. I really don't. But you didn't recognise Mickey's blatant flirting back in middle school, so how can I be sure you aren't oblivious to red flags in this situation? As your creche father, I think I'm reasonably concerned."

A thin flare of ice swirled across my cheeks. "I don't find it appropriate to bring up Mickey in the presence of our current companions, actually."

This time, Anti-Lance dropped the subject, though I suspected if it weren't for the dessert course, he would have liked to push the issue. He had strong feelings, Anti-Lance, about our elders and their attempts to sway the young. I think it's because he wants to go into politics. He analyses others in search of intended manipulation. He means well, really.

Out came the tables piled high with sweets, floating forward on grand display. The black tablecloths rippled and snapped against the air. The floating table stopped first by the high table, allowing them to have their pick of everything on it, before it and several others floated to different corners of the room and settled down. As the two resident creche fathers, Anti-Lance and Anti-Julian both rose to take orders for their respective colonymates. I asked for a slice of lemon pie and snickerdoodles. It's one of my favourite combinations. And I decided I may as well try a sip of cherry soda, provided it was very small. I hadn't liked my first taste of soda, but that was 10,000 years ago. I was older now. I may as well give it another try.

A moment after the two creche father's departed, however, I felt a cold and bony hand land on my shoulder. "Anti-Cosmo," said Anti-Buster. I looked up to find both him and Anti-Bryndin standing over me. With a sinking pit in my stomach, I realised the High Count likely didn't want to take the way I'd spoken to his son sitting down. Anti-Buster tilted his head towards the nearest arched doorway. "May we speak with you privately for a moment, sir? It won't be long."

"Oh," I said. A dozen clashing thoughts spun circles inside my head. Had my sideways glances at Prince Anti-Phillip been too harsh, too obvious? Had I crossed a line in touching him? Or was this unrelated, brought forward only now that we were in a lull of standing in line and gathering food?

Had my mother told their husband what I'd said to them in the corridor? I was only expressing my honest thoughts. I'm allowed to do that. Or was I at fault for dumping that on them without raising my two fingers to request it first? Had I offended Prince Eastkal? Had Prince Eastkal told of my dragon transformation after all? Had Jorgen? Or, seeing as Anti-Buster was Anti-Wanda's father, perhaps she had passed information regarding our vla to him, and now he was jealously seeking punishment? Though, that wouldn't explain Anti-Bryndin's presence necessarily…

Was I simply being asked not to return to school in the spring? Now that Anti-Phillip was getting older, had my usefulness reached its end? To be perfectly honest, I'd dropped out of school for 30,000 years. Maybe he'd been attending in my absence all that time. They may not need me as their guinea pig to test the waters anymore.

Perhaps someone overheard my questions to Grandnana Anti-Miranda on how to mate with a fairy… Now that I thought about all these things, my wrists began to shake. Maybe I shouldn't walk around with so many dark marks upon my head. Carrying frayed knots in your karmic weave isn't so glamorous when they start to build up so notably, the First General can see them from afar.

As Anti-Buster led me towards the doorway, I eyed the red cloak flapping at his heels. Tarrow's sacred garment allowed the wearer to view people in their karmic weaves at all hours of the day. Did he count knots every time he saw me? I preferred not knowing how many might be there.

In the corridor outside the dining room, Anti-Buster released my shoulder and turned to me. Anti-Bryndin stopped in the doorway with his wings slightly spread, blocking the lantern light from reaching my face. The corridor was lit with only torches. I blinked, shifting my eyes between them both, and bowed my head.

"High Count… First General."

They were not smiling. I lowered my ears, shifting my gaze between them, and pinched the hem of my shirt more tightly in my fists. Finally, Anti-Bryndin leaned towards me. He stood with arms folded, claws biting through his sweater to his skin.

"What the smoof, Anti-Cosmo? Stealing karma from the Head Pixie, of all Fairies? Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

I blinked at the low sound of his voice, lacking any trace of a high-pitched Vatajasa accent. In my anxiety regarding Anti-Phillip, I'd forgotten it was Winni, not Anti-Bryndin, who would be using the High Count's body while inside Salalalyn's temple. "What? I… I beg your pardon, Prince of Breath? I didn't steal the Head Pixie's karma."

Winni rolled his eyes. "Don't bother defending yourself. Now that I know a few karma crystals are drained, I know exactly who became the silver dragon in Faeheim. I know, I know… It's against your culture to take that kind of form, but I don't care about that. I'm a nature spirit, not an Anti-Fairy. I won't breathe a word of this to the High Count, and the First General won't either if I order him not to. So? Answer my question. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

I blinked again at the nature spirit, saying nothing for a few tense seconds. "There are no dragons who helped our early ancestors. To take a dragon form is forbidden."

"I don't care if you were the dragon. Why did you take so much of the Head Pixie's karma? More than necessary for your shift."

"Um. Because… he gave to to me." I didn't like the idea of lying before a spirit. I squirmed my wings.

"Did Sunnie order you to do that?"

"N-no… I've never heard Sunnie's voice."

Winni scoffed, leaning back with wings beating hard. "I knew it was you… I can feel every sip my medium takes from another's karma and every sip he gives away. There were several more crystals drained than I expected when I tasted his weave today. If the Head Pixie is sharing his karma around, I don't like that it's with a Water. Twis and Sunnie are plotting something… and Sunnie hasn't taken a medium in 800,000 years." He shook his head. "I don't like the look of my brother beefing up a potential champion. At this rate, you'll already be a powerful individual by the time Sunnie chooses to throw in again. Your mother was Saturn's medium while pregnant with you, you know. I have my suspicions."

I glanced at Anti-Buster, then directed my attention to Winni again. "I… I don't think you need to worry, sir. I took karma from the Head Pixie so I might save Faeheim from destruction and save many lives - Fairy, Anti-Fairy, and Refract - in the process. Sunnie gave me no orders. He's never spoken to me either within or outside his temple walls. I don't think he's even aware that I exist."

Winni eyed me in great suspicion, arms still crossed. Then, after a long minute, he flapped out his wings and skimmed away across the dining room. Oh… Was that the end of it? I looked at Anti-Buster, flattening my ears again. He sighed, dropping his own folded arms in the process.

"I know you're… out there trying to live your best life, sir. And since you have stood before a spirit and were not struck down for taking on a dragon form, I will let this particular instance stay with me. Though I advise you not to play with fate so daringly again." He waited for my nod, then turned towards the arched doorway. And paused. Glancing back at me once more, he said, "I heard you've declared vla with my daughter."

Oh. Were rumours beginning to spread? I curled my claws into my hands. "Yes… Don't worry about me. In the traditional apologetic way, I humbly submitted myself as her servant to please herself with as she desired… But you needn't concern yourself with her safety, as a father. She wouldn't accept my apology in the usual manner. She asked only that we renew a previous agreement we'd once made that I tutor her in magic. So I will."

"You sound disappointed, sir. May I ask about that?"

Did I? I cocked my head and spoke the truth: "Although your daughter is a pretty dame, I go through phases in my attraction to Anti-Wanda. Every time I think I've unlocked the secrets of her mind, I fall in love all over again. This lasts only until I realise I didn't know her as well as I thought I did, and the pull I feel fades again. She's a complicated individual and keeps me at a wider distance than my other friends. I don't think she wishes to be any more than leeõri or tamsõsita with me. I can respect that."

Anti-Buster considered this, leaning his hand against the wall. "And you?"

I looked him directly in the eye. "I'd take to kaoas with her without hesitation. I've known both your daughters since I was 21 years old. I've met their counterparts. They're all Sky years and I'm a Water. Our relationships are comfortable. You can't fault me for that."

There was another pause between us as Anti-Buster considered this again. Then he moved his hand to my shoulder. "I admit, sir, that I am not the greatest fan of Anti-Juandissimo. He speaks lowly of himself, kisses far too many tail ends, and struggles chronically with kleptomania. I know little of the relationship between you and Anti-Wanda, but I observed how you were always kind to Anti-Wendy even before we recognised who she was. To show that kindness to her even when she did only servant's work is proof enough to me that you have a thoughtful soul. Anti-Wendy will reach the end of her term of service at the next Aurora Fairyalis and then she plans to move to Luna's Landing. You might run into her then."

"I'd like that," I told him truthfully. I'd be a horrid liar if I tried to play like my core didn't begin to beat. Anti-Wendy? Arriving in Luna's Landing? Perhaps I needed to assert myself as creche father material after all. Anti-Wendy had offered herself as my queen once, back when she'd desired that I steal her away from aggressive Anti-Binky. That was only two short years ago. Did the offer still stand?

She wants me… She desires me. I'm not so helpless, ugly, or undesirable. I'm a dame magnet.

Anti-Buster leaned back, stroking his chin. "Should my daughters welcome you in their lives… you have my blessing to court them both." He frowned. "I'd rather they give their souls to a confident Zodii drake. Anti-Juandissimo could learn to curb his sassy tongue in my presence. I don't believe him good enough for Anti-Wanda. Not that she would accept such advice from me."

I wondered if he already knew that I'd sung with Anti-Wendy in the Eros Nest. It hadn't cracked my dome, but it wouldn't shock me if he still considered the moments I'd shared with his "little girl" to be too intimate, too fast, too far. Anti-Wendy and the others were released for servant chores twice a year, like a colony of ants or bees who made the entire migration season run more smoothly than cream. She easily could have babbled of our encounter to her sister, or directly to her father…

I squirmed my wings. Perhaps I would try not standing near her while he was in the area. I'd rather he didn't take a close look at the threads in my karmic weave. Not yet. She should at least join my colony properly before that occurred. I bowed my head and murmured assent, then hurried back to our table.

Dessert passed uneventfully. I nibbled on cookies, fudge, and sweets of several types until I could feel my connection to Fairy-Cosmo's core waning thin. When it felt right to excuse myself, I seized Mona by the wrist and pulled her towards the nearest doorway. "What about the array arrangements?" she asked, hiking up her skirts to follow me. "Shouldn't we be there to pick out our branch?"

"Oh, pooh… We can roost with Anti-Lance any time. He can wait. Just tonight, let us bask in the presence of my noble peers." Doing so would take me farther from Anti-Julian anyway… I hadn't forgotten how he'd once supported Anti-Russell's challenge against Anti-Kanin for dominance. Even back when we were pups and he went by his private name, Electro, Anti-Julian had always been a mite snippy with me. He's a Fire year. I don't miss our time apart. "Anyway, I do need to pass a message from Prince Eastkal to his counterpart. The man is wild, Mona… Oh, the stories I could tell you. For now, however… you and I need to have a good snogging."

She didn't belong to Anti-Phillip. Not a firefly's chance in the Darkness. She belonged to me.

Mona fanned lightly at her face with one hand, floating behind me without releasing my wrist. "You know, it's… been some time since we've shared an evening together."

Was that so? Studying late had indeed kept me up at night with impending stress. "Perhaps… Anti-Blade won't compete for attention in your mind when I kiss you, will he?"

"No. I'm still trying to figure things out in that regard."

I turned back, yanking her hand a little in the process. "What's there to figure?" I demanded, stepping towards her. Mona blinked, leaning back. "You're my damsel. It's disloyal if you're charmed by the advances of another drake. Why, how can we ever determine a drake's dominance if we're double-counting the damsels under his wing? Do you understand?"

Mona dropped her eyes to the cold stone floor. "I don't furiously flirt with other drakes when you're not around… It isn't my intention to attract their eyes. Anti-Phillip invited himself to our table. I've dismissed drakes like him before."

"I don't care." I gave her arm a shake. "Look here, Mona: if you wish to be in rotation in a small colony like Anti-Lance's, that's none of my business. If strange drakes are actively seeking out a round with you, however, then that is. If you require monogamy of me, I require it of you. Otherwise, this isn't fair."

"I think that's not true," she said, which made my hackles stand on end. Mona raised her scarlet gaze to mine. "Even if we did remove that rule between us, would you allow me the touch of other drakes then? Or am I still yours? Why do drakes' demands differ from damsels in society today?"

"You outnumber us 3 to 1," I said, growing impatient with her now. "Why is that, if not for a drake to keep three damsels on average beneath his wing?"

Mona murmured her agreement.

We continued down the corridor. You know the saying 'Early to bed, early to rise?' Well, Mona and I were indeed early to bed. When we passed through the door to the Lapis Lazuli Suite, no one awaited us on the other side. What? We were greeted only by the firm boughs of an array shaped and textured like a cedar tree. You know, I could understand the others' absence when I thought about it, actually… There were lower creches to supervise, youth to watch over, and organisational tasks to be done. But not for us. How fortunate to be counted a member of the young adult class, neither subject to the chaos of juveniles nor a juvenile myself.

The silence of the large room prickled the hairs on my arms. I walked forward, but didn't particularly like the thumping of my footsteps. I stopped midway, then turned back to Anti-Saffron. "Should we wait for others to arrive?"

"We used to kiss in private when we were young," she replied, tossing her head. Her frizzy hair bounced against her shoulders. "Why stop old habits now?"

"Yes, but…" There's something to be said about how uncomfortable it is to own super sensitive ears that hear the echo of every hitch and murmur. But Mona insisted she wasn't bothered by the absence of other people, so we picked a strong branch of the array and jumped right into it. I dare not say it was because of the sugar I'd consumed that I was more forward with my touches beneath the first layer of her ruffles and frills than usual, but I certainly had an enjoyable time that night. Now, I didn't delve my hand beneath her undergarments… but yes, I may have scandalously brushed fingers across her covered breasts.

(I know, I know… My reputation as a gentledrake is occasionally in a state of flux. Just remember that I never did claim I wasn't fast.)

For a time, I held back her hair, winding my claws through her black curls while she played so carefully with the thin bases of my wings. At one point, I broke our mouths apart to whisper, "It's a pleasant life we live together, isn't it?"

"Mmhm," she murmured back against my lips. "I'd only change one thing."

"And what is that, my darling spiderweb?"

Mona pressed her face gently against mine, coaxing long fingers through my tangled hair. She hummed one of her signature tunes for just a moment, like a quiet summer night. Then, into my mouth, she whispered, "I desire for dozens of daring damsels to diplomatically direct designated colonies on the daily."

My lips… stopped.

"I'm a damsel in this life," she went on, pulling away and oblivious to my pause. "I've always been a damsel. I read up on my old journals while you were travelling. At least ten lives recorded. It…" Mona's shoulders sagged. "It weighs on you, after a time. Most Anti-Fairies don't spend this many lives being reborn a damsel. Anti-Buster says everyone takes their turn leading, just as we all take our turn bearing pups. The cycle is meant to give everyone equal life experience before our souls reach their final incarnation. I get that. But I've read all my old notes. I've checked every family tree, checked the official reincarnation logs… and I've always been a damsel."

I peeled my eyes from her dancing lips. "And what's wrong with being a damsel? I've been a damsel. If you're in the same position you've known before, it's surely because the nature spirits find you do a good job of it. I say, the spirits must think you do a bloody fine job of it!" Recognizing my face beginning to flush with cold and anger, I exhaled and took Mona's hands again. "Darling, it's your place in this generation. Tarrow knew I needed a damsel with a level head to keep my flighty soul on the ground. And you had to be a damsel so you and I might reproduce someday and become the founders of a new generation: a generation of Anti-Fairies as hosting counterparts! It's your fate; it's decided. Such is the command of the breath of life."

"I've been thinking," Mona began, and I wanted to roll my eyes and cry simultaneously. Oh, foolish woman… How many days - Nay, how many YEARS - had I spent begging her not to think? Fairy dames were encouraged so, but it wasn't right for an Anti-Fairy. She said, "You need a new colony… and there's a lot you don't know about me and my interests."

"Yes?"

"When the day comes that you want to leave school… leave Anti-Lance's colony… I can go with you, if we're married. If you'll have me. And since it's just the two of us and no one will ever know if…"

Eyes closed. Inhale.

"I thought I could tie back my hair. I can put on drakian clothes… and we could say I'm creche father. I mean, just… Just yours. I don't dare declare any desire for damsels or any duties that detail disaster…"

"Creche father?" Wondrous, I looked Mona up and down, trying to picture her in the proper clothing. I had to admit, the thought of my betrothed in a frizzy ponytail did, um… fling my insides about in a sort of rush. "I… I don't… I…"

"That's not a 'No,'" she said quietly, pressing her fingertips to my cheek. I closed my eyes, but that accursed image of Mona, dressed in drakes' garb, unfurled itself like a magazine spread across my mind.

"Um… No. No, I don't think we can. Mona, it's out of the question. The spirits sent you here in a damsel's body. Altering your form even for a season offends them dearly; you know I must refuse. I strive to be a proper gentledrake." Even if I was already peeling my shirt buttons apart with delicate claws inside my mind's eye…

"No, no," Mona assured me, taking hold of my shoulders. "I won't be altering myself with magic. It's only my hair and clothes. I'm allowed to do that; the spirits have never spoken out against haircuts or clothing before."

I closed my mouth, puzzled into silence. Mona… had a solid point. My mother's warrior uniform had trouser holes rather than a skirt. And… you were allowed to change your hair. The spirits would take offence if we used magic to change the bodies they'd chosen for each one of us (unless we took our honoured animal form), but… tradition had never… SAID we weren't allowed to dress in a sort of… different way… So surely this proposal wasn't too…?

"Can I try?" The words sprang out before I'd fully processed them, but I didn't try to pull them back. Something, like a great wheel in a river, rotated from one slow click to the next inside my brain. I made a rolling motion with my hands. "What I mean to say is… May I join you in this adventure? Do you think I could fly alongside you and play as though I'm your submissive damsel? At least when we're alone."

My hair had grown scraggly in my years of travel alone; the cherubs had never cut it. I'd be able to pull it back in much the same pegasustail I'd worn it as Ilisa (only not half as long). I mean, I'd worn one in my younger years too, so it wasn't unfamiliar to me. And I was small enough, I'd grown accustomed to being overlooked.

"That seems okay, doesn't it, Mona? Everything stays balanced in the universe. You shouldn't pretend to be a drake in this life if I'm not beside you presenting as a damsel."

Mona pricked her claw at the end of my nose. "Yes. Julius, I'd be most honoured to make you mine. Or, um… Julia, I suppose, if you prefer."

Oh, even Fairy-Cosmo likely picked up on the skip of my core that night… I daresay he did.