It is slightly warmer today and the last lingering pockets of snow have melted. Outside there are the first signs of spring, with brave snowdrops emerging from the barren soil, their heads bowed as if in prayer for warmer days.

I wander about the palace grounds, almost alone, but with the shadow of Alex just a few steps behind me. It rankles, for I am afforded neither solitude nor company. A fragrant scent draws me to a daphne bush and I stop to admire the winter blooms.

Out of the corner of my eye, I study Alex; tall, ever-watchful and poised for action. With a sigh, I meander over to what looks like a small Greek temple in gleaming marble. Three side are open, punctuated with doric columns holding up the roof.

It is gloomy inside the temple, except for the bands of light across the tiled floor. There is a mural on the back wall and I can make out the elven tree of life, but not all the detail. As I am studying it, I sense, rather than hear a presence just behind me.

It isn't Alex, but someone more powerful. Their magic grates across my consciousness bringing with it the threat of dagger-like teeth. In response my own magic stirs like a beast; I can almost hear its talons clicking as it readies to come out and play.

I spin around to find my uncle, Antares, looming over me, his red eyes gleaming maliciously. I don't get the impression that he has a friendly family reunion in mind.

"Can I help you?" I don't bother with pleasantries.

"I came to give you some friendly advice. Do not think that you will ever be accepted by the dark court."

Firstly, 'friendly', seriously don't make me laugh. Secondly, I want nothing to do with your court.

I do not actually respond, but when the air thickens to the point of making it hard to breathe, I am unable to stop the thing inside me from lashing out. Antares stumbles backward into a column and presses his hand to his chest, examining it as if expecting blood.

With a murderous expression on his face, he goes to take a step forward when a sword swings across his chest, blocking his way.

Antares turns to see Alex standing there, and snarls, "How dare you threaten me."

"I answer to the queen. I will protect the princess, even against the likes of you." Alex manages to make the 'you' sound like 'lowlife' and then bows her head, adding a respectful, "Your Highness."

Antares would evidently like to do us both harm, but instead slinks off. Once he has gone I feel a little faint.

Alex sheaths her sword and surprises me by calling out an elven word I don't know. Thousands of points of light flicker to life across the ceiling of the temple and I realise that they form a masculine figure.

"In the common tongue he is known as the Father of the Heavens." Alex points to the far wall. "His consort is Gaia, the earth mother."

Now I can see that the landscape beneath the tree of life takes the form of a reclining feminine figure; her curves made from hills and valleys and her long hair, a flowing stream.

"It is said that together they created Elysium." Alex offers me a very rare smile before duty once more comes to the fore. "I think it time to return to your father."

Alex

.....

I settle into the chaise in a reclined pose, while my father uncovers the painting and checks his supplies. He won't allow me to see his work until it is finished.

With time on my hands, I mull over the encounter with Antares earlier. I've definitely made an enemy in the court. Possibly even more scary is my own response; I don't want to be like them.

As if one dark elven encounter wasn't enough, I feel the telltale silken caress of Morpheus's power. Like a flower turning toward the sun, my head turns towards the doorway. The door opens by itself and the king strides in, as ever filling the room with his presence.

He stands beside my father and examines the painting; glancing over at me and then back at the easel. Morpheus cocks his head and Aldebaran freezes like a statue, a paintbrush raised in one hand. Meanwhile, my dress transforms into some flimsy gossamer affair.

Although pale, not red, it reminds me of the postcard of Flaming June on my pinboard back in London. The brief wave of nostalgia is overtaken by sheer embarrassment and I cross my arms to protect my modesty.

"Morpheus!" I chide. "Please return my clothes."

"Aldebaran is a gifted painter. Alas he lacks vision. This will make for a far better composition."

"Does your artistic vision not include undergarments?"

"No, certainly not. Such things would quite spoil the effect." In several long strides, he is at my side. "Why do you cover yourself?"

"I am naked beneath this."

Morpheus's face remains impassive, but there is a twinkle of humour in his eyes. Bending his head to my ear, he whispers conspiratorially, "I too am naked beneath my clothing."

"Yes, but your clothing is not transparent!" I exclaim in exasperation.

"Would you like it to be?" he teases.

"No, no it is quite fine as it is," I hurriedly insist and get to my feet. "If you could just wait here, I will be back shortly."

Refusing to remain in something that is virtually transparent, I run upstairs to my room. On the way I notice Alex standing in the hall, also frozen like a statue, her eyes narrowed as if detecting something suspicious.

There is no sound of being followed, however, my senses prickle. I open my bedroom door and jump to find Morpheus standing right behind me.

"I am curious to see your bed chamber." He tries to peek in.

"Morpheus, you cannot come in." I stand in the doorway, blocking the way.

With a smirk, his eyes rake down my body. Automatically, I wrap my arms around myself and he skims past, entering my room.

Following behind him, I grab my dressing gown and hastily cover myself. When I look up, I find him reclined upon my bed. His black clothing and hair provide a stark contrast against the white silken sheets.

"Is this where you lay at night?" he asks, stroking the space next to him.

I ignore his question. "I do not think it proper for you to be on my bed."

"You are most welcome to come and lay upon my bed any time you choose."

Ahh, he is impossible. Instead of rising to the bait, I try to get on to safer ground. "Is there a reason for your visit?"

Suddenly, he is no longer lying on the bed, but standing right in front of me. "I came to say that you need not concern yourself with Antares."

I wonder if that comes at a cost and finding his proximity too much, I back away, bumping into the dressing table. He merely steps forward, closing the gap once more.

"Have you had a chance to study the Black Book?" he asks casually.

Black book? At first I am confused, then my eyes flicker guiltily to the drawer where the book he gave me is hidden and I blush.

Morpheus follows the movement and opening the drawer, raises an eyebrow. "You keep it with your undergarments?"

"I do not think that it is appropriate for me to keep it."

"It is meant for you." His eyes glitter dangerously. "A king does not like his princess to deny his gifts."

As my mouth starts to form a 'but', he places a finger upon it to silence me. "Neither does your king like negativity from your lips."

"What would you like from these lips?" I say without thinking. Damn, I walked into that one.

"My lovely rose, I do not think you are ready for that knowledge." The look he gives me is smouldering.

He's just psyching me out. I hope.

"I do not like to compromise. However, for you, I will make an exception." A black box, tied with a dark red ribbon, suddenly materialises in his open palm, which he flourishes before me.

Nervous, I open it up and gasp at the diamond choker inside. It is made with an intricate pattern of interwoven silver and at the centre, blood-red rubies form the pattern of a rose. I'm not one for material things, but it is absolutely stunning.

I yearn to touch it, but resist. "Surely it is far too valuable to give to me."

"I had this especially commissioned for you." He lifts the necklace from its bed of velvet. "Accept my gift and we can come to an accord about the dress."

I don't object as he fixes it around my neck, where it sits cool and heavy against my skin. A wisp of his power snakes out and curls around my shoulders. The dressing gown undoes itself and slips from my body, pooling around my feet. The dress writhes as embroidered roses form over the fabric, protecting my modesty.

Morpheus holds out a hand. "Come, my muse."

Overwhelmed, I allow him to lead me back downstairs and at his direction, resume my position on the chaise. He wanders over to stand next to the still-frozen form of my father and reflect upon his composition.

Suddenly, he is back looming over me. Without warning, he bends down, threads one hand in my hair and his lips crash down. He steals all sense and oxygen and leaves me breathless when he finally pulls away. Stunned, I touch my tingling lips. I can't believe he just kissed me.

He gives a satisfied smile. "Perfect! My rose awakening."

Returning to the painting, he whispers something into father's ear causing his eyes to un-glaze.

"Charming! Would you bestow it upon me once it is complete?" Morpheus asks.

"Of course, I would be honoured since you do not normally care for my work." Aldebaran smiles.

"Well, you do have the most enchanting muse." Morpheus winks at me and departs.

.......

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