24

Stop fidgeting," Apollo growled under his breath as we stood side by side in the Grand Hall of the Dreaming Palace, waiting for the King and Queen to arrive.

The massive, glinting hall was made of nothing less than sunset-colored daydreams. It was wrapped in hues of white, yellow, and peach, with pink wall panels and breathtaking gilded moldings interrupted by windows framed with white, gauzy curtains. The coffered ceiling was in the loveliest shade of sky-blue known to man, the perfect backdrop for the clouds that sleepily traveled to and fro, as animated as reality. Five prism chandeliers dangled in between the passing clouds, sparkling with a substance that reminded me of Agathe's weaver magic.

Although empty at the center, the corners of the grand space were diligently furnished with freestanding and built-in benches upholstered in peach plush, as well as two high-backed gilded chairs raised on a hardwood pedestal at the far edge of the hall.

"I'm just a little nervous," I breathed out, wondering if I should sit down at one of the benches and try to quell my heart.

"There's no reason to be," Apollo said through clenched teeth, his gaze pinned straight ahead. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was more of a nervous wreck than I was.

"What if they hate me?" I muttered.

He finally turned to me. He had given his cape, baldric, and bag to the white-gloved man who still lingered next to the gilded double doors, and in this opulent room with his billowy white shirt and noble features, Apollo looked more princely than ever. "You're impossible to hate, Nepheli," he said quietly, only for my ears.

For a heart-skip of a moment, we just stared at each other, our throats bobbing and our lips parting as if to say…something. Say something, I begged myself. Say something or look away.

I was saved by the sudden banging of the doors as they flew right open. A woman with wild, candy-pink hair burst into the room, her beautiful bronze face twisting into an expression of simultaneous shock and joy. A man followed behind her, tall, strong, and grim. His feline eyes were a familiar shade of grey-blue, a color that I already knew I would never be able to completely erase from the notepad of my mind.

The Queen seized Apollo in her arms, lifting to the tips of her satin shoes. "My boy," she cried, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. "My little boy is home."

The King smiled a small, dignified smile and patted Apollo on the back. "I swear you got taller," he said in a deep, bass voice.

"That's what you said last time," Apollo groaned as his mother squeezed his cheeks harder.

I tried not to giggle at the sight. But then she turned her attention to me, her brown eyes still bright with tears, and I panicked, not knowing what to do with myself.

Should I bow? Should I try to console her?

Gods, I hated meeting new people.

"Hello there, dear," she sniffled.

"Hello, I'm Nepheli—" Before I knew it, she was yanking me into her arms too, the huge puff sleeves of her sparkly yellow gown wrapped around my neck like a bow. For such a tiny woman, she was quite formidable.

"Thank you for bringing him home," she said, her voice cracking towards the end.

"I didn't. He was—"

"I was already on my way home, Mom," Apollo muttered as he grudgingly met his father's permeating gaze.

"Nothing new?" the King asked, his breath drawn in expectation.

The muscles along Apollo's jaw visibly tensed. He lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"There is nothing to be sorry about," the Queen gasped, her pink curls flying over her forehead. "You're home. You're home, and you're well, and you have a friend with you." She kneaded my hand, smiling wide. "I love your hair."

I blinked, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. "I–I love your hair too, Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty?" she scoffed. "Gods, I'm just Eloise."

"And I'm Xander," the King contributed gently.

Eloise jumped on her toes and clapped her hands together. "Let's throw a ball tonight. Yes, a Welcome Home ball. Doesn't that sound amazing?" She turned to her husband, wide-eyed and breathless.

His eyes softened on her, like snow falling upon a bed of flowers, an imperceptible but significant collision. Something inglorious flared in my chest—not jealousy, just a girlish sort of yearning. To be looked at like that.

I knew what it was like to be wanted. But not loved. Never loved. I was an absolute stranger to this kind of devotion. It could be staring at me right in the face, and I wouldn't know how to recognize it.

"Yes, my love," he said. "Sounds perfect."

Eloise beamed. "Apollo? Nepheli? Are you okay with it? I don't want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable."

"I'm actually excited to attend one of your famed Northern Balls, Your Ma—Eloise," I stammered, stealing a nervous glance at Apollo.

Apollo averted his gaze from me. "It will be a nice farewell, I suppose." He sucked in a breath and raised his brows at his mother. "Just don't put us on the spot in front of the court."

"No. No, I promise," Eloise reassured. "It will be a simple celebration. No honored guests."

A thin layer of pink dust speckled the atmosphere around Eloise's elegant figure. I had once read that the Northern Queen's magic was quite literally spreading joy, which had seemed rather peculiar to me back then, but as a sense of warmth and ease branched inside my chest now, I began to understand just how powerful such magic could be.

"I'm going to begin preparations right away," she gleefully announced, fisted her skirts, and rushed out of the room.

Xander offered me a courteous smile. "My wife gets very excited about… well, everything." He laughed quietly. "It's what I love most about her." Then he turned to Apollo, "Are you going to stay in your room?"

Apollo shrugged. "If it's available."

"It always is, son." The King glanced between us, his expression growing a tad uncomfortable. "Will Nepheli be joining you?"

Panic sparked in my veins. "Oh, no, we're not—"

"Nepheli should have her own quarters," Apollo interjected, slipping a hand on the small of my back. "And we should probably get some rest now since there's going to be a big party tonight."

Xander nodded, looking disappointed. "Yes, of course." He went to leave but hesitated. "Apollo? If you're not too tired this afternoon, before the ball starts, spend some time with your old man, yes?"

Apollo's throat bobbed. "I promise."

Xander exhaled and continued down the glimmering hall a few more steps before he veered again with a charming, almost roguish smirk that, unfortunately for me, I knew all too well. "Oh, and Nepheli dear, welcome to The Faraway North."