I am stood alone, although the courtiers often afford me a wide berth. The hands on the clock drag slowly towards the midnight hour. I might feel bitter loneliness if I was not already so numb. I am bored by the monotony of events endlessly cycling, solar after solar.

Antares strides over. "You should have chosen my daughter as spring."

Not only does he show me no due respect, but he has the audacity to challenge my decision. I think it time to remind Celestia's upstart son of his place. A cord of my power wraps around his neck.

"Do not," I hiss, "presume to tell me what to do."

Antares stubbornly refuses to concede, so I tighten my hold, watching as his face turns an interesting shade of puce. It is not until Nero joins us that I release him. Antares rubs his neck and lowers his head, eyes suitably downcast.

A hush falls upon the room and I only just resist the urge to roll my eyes as Celestia makes her grand entrance. My sister has abandoned her normal white attire for a ceremonial gown of yellow and gold; tonight she is representing summer.

Following behind is Elissa. The bodice of her dress is encrusted in jewels and pearls all the way up to the high neckline. The decorous front is compensated by a more risqué back, which apart from the bejewelled collar around her neck, is completely exposed. Cunning move to draw attention to the noble line of her spine and away from those unelven curves.

The skirt and sleeves start the palest of greens and deepen in colour until they are dark pine green at the hem. Her hair is pinned in an intricate style, reminiscent of a cluster of flowers. My rose.

"She makes an enchanting spring." Nero's words echo my own thoughts.

Antares does not offer comment. His sullen silence is deafening in its own way.

"My king, I would be honoured if you would support me when she is accepting of suitors," Nero expounds obsequiously.

It causes me to ponder. Nero holds a great army and his family is an old and powerful one. He is perhaps the most sadistic of my lords and normally it would provide poor sport to see him pitted against such an innocent. Yet again, my rose may well hold her own.

"I am surprised, Nero. I thought you a great proponent for elven purity!" Antares's tone is condescending, which is a little rich given that Antares himself is a mixture of light and dark elf.

Nero certainly takes umbrage. "A lot can be overlooked when one holds power."

Again I have to agree with Nero. Last night, when her power surged, I had gotten a sense of its intoxicating and inky depths. There is dark power there for sure.

"Perhaps by this night's end you will concede that she has the makings of a dark consort." I walk away without a backwards glance to join my sister.

........

"Let us go into the night and herald the coming of spring," Celestia proclaims dramatically.

She places her hand on my arm and we lead a procession out of the hall. Immediately behind us follow Elissa and her father.

At the doorway, we are furnished with a light and a candle-lit procession winds itself outside, into the palace grounds; many times my footsteps have followed this path. We draw to a halt precisely as the first chime of midnight tolls out.

I break apart from my sister and beckon Elissa to me. The court arrange themselves in concentric circles around us.

"The dominion of winter is fading." Celestia's voice rings out in the silence of the night. "The earth is reawakening and whispers of the coming of spring."

At this, I slide Elissa's cloak off her shoulders, letting it pool at our feet. Standing flush behind her, I wrap my arms around her, allowing my warmth to seep into the bare skin on her back.

"Winter holds spring in his embrace."

"Soon spring will ascend," Celestia counters and motions for Elissa to move forward.

It is with reluctance that I release my spring into the care of summer.

"What say our ancestors, guardians of the night's sky? Do you bless our spring?" Celestia raises her arms and face to the heavens.

The candles in the inner circle flare up and extinguish. As one, we all look to the firmament. I am rarely surprised, but even I marvel at the dark sky streaked with shooting stars.

"It is a sign. Our spring has celestial blessings!" the queen exclaims.

At the ceremony's end, the circles disperse. I watch Elissa; she really makes a delicious spring and I allow a tendril of power to caress down the bare skin on her back. She shivers and spins to face me.

The next part of the evening is normally a chore, but tonight I may just enjoy it. Lifting her, I ghost us inside and we do not come to a stop until we reach the centre of the empty dance floor.

Evidently disoriented, Elissa clings to me and I allow her time to recover before stating, "It is customary for spring to give winter her first dance."

We glide across the floor, and are soon joined by other couples, though I barely notice them. I hold her enthralled in my gaze, yet I am not convinced that I am not equally entranced. She intrigues me; so innocent and refreshingly untainted by politics, yet at the same time has all that latent power.

Too soon the dance is over and I am obliged to hand her over to her father. Brooding, I watch from the shadows, my keen hearing and eyes trained on my sweet rose.

Lords circle like vultures and Lord Deneb is the first to strike. An interesting move; so much ambition. I wonder if he is elf enough to juggle both my sister and her granddaughter.

"You really are the exemplar of spring. So young and vibrant, furthermore celestially blessed." He compliments.

"Wasn't that part of the ceremony?"

"No, my princess. Not even my queen commands the heavens."

I can sense that she is uncomfortable by the way her eyes cast about as if looking for an escape. "Was your lady unable to join you tonight?"

It is an innocent remark, yet yields a glimpse of pain in Deneb's eyes, which he quickly quashes. "My lady was unfortunately taken, but not before she gifted me a son."

"Please forgive me, I did not know."

Deneb pulls them to a stop at the edge of the dance floor but does not immediately relinquish his hold. She is rescued by Deneb's own son, Altair.

"May I too steal a dance with spring?"

Deneb inclines his head ever so slightly and kisses her hand before taking his leave. Immediately I sense that Altair is more of a threat. Her smile for him is genuine, causing her eyes to sparkle. She does not smile like that for me.

As soon as the dance is over, I am there waiting. "Winter has come to reclaim his spring."

She takes my arm, but instead of leading her back onto the dance floor, I guide her into a side room. She stiffens at the sight of Lord Nero. 'Tis a mere flick of my power which pulls the door shut behind us.

"Only earlier, we were discussing your merits as dark consort," I say conversationally.

Sliding a hand down her body, the material turns jet black and the jewels shift to form the pattern of a rose. The sleeves disappear replaced by long black velvet gloves. Though her former costume was pretty, this is far more to my liking.

Lust flares in Nero's eyes as his gaze travels over her body. "Let me worship your dark creation."

As Nero steps forward, she backs up, right against me and I wrap an arm around her waist.

"Do not flee, my spring." I do not wish to invoke the beast that might arise should I have to chase her.

When Nero closes in, I can feel her magic stirring discontentedly, readying to boil over. It is a heady feeling. One I find myself unwilling to share.

"Leave us now," I command.

Nero bows, a flicker of disappointment in his face. Nevertheless, he slips out of the door.

Conjuring a black feathered mask in one hand, I fix it upon her face and take her gloved hand in mine.

"Come, my dark spring. Let us cause a little court intrigue."

Once more we are twirling across the dance floor. She is sublime and from all corners of the room, I hear gossip about who this mysterious girl might be. I have not had this much fun out of the bed chamber in many moons.

Elissa mutters to herself, "I feel as if I'm in a dream and that surely the clock is going to chime and break the spell."

I waltz her to an empty powder room with a huge gilded mirror. Elissa stiffens at her reflection before ripping off her mask. She spins to face me, her delicate cheeks flushed with anger and asks, "What have you done to me?"

I rather like her clothed in black, with jet black hair and blood red lips. I smirk. "Just a glimpse of what could be."

"Change me back," she demands and my smile fades for I do not like to relinquish dominion. She is clever enough to swallow her indignation. "Please, my king."

Oh, that I do like. It makes me think just how sweet her submission could be. I admit that I may be predatory, but so is the court. My sister is perhaps the most dangerous.

Bending my head, I whisper in her ear, "Beware, for summer is not without its own peril. Spring should not be too eager to leave the protection of Winter's embrace."

...........

🖤