Friday morning classes came and went, but I couldn't concentrate on them.

Not that the classes were fun to begin with, anyway. Advanced accounting wasn't one of my favorite subjects, but it was a prerequisite for my last concentration class.

College felt like a whole bait and switch.

I spent most of the car ride on the phone with Anne, the florist, trying to get something delivered on short notice. She'd pull in favors from nearby shops, but guaranteed that the flowers would be at Vic's by six. It's a good thing that Damien switched out the coins for cash; otherwise, it would be impossible to get any of this done.

When I woke up the next morning, I found a stack of bills right where I'd place the bag of coins on the nightstand in my bedroom the night before. I blanched when I'd counted the bills–while I knew the gold Damien had was valuable, it was quite different to see hundred dollar bills just carelessly stacked.

But that was Damien. He'd never really taken much care for money. For him, it was easy to conjure everything up.

Though, why he was so busy he couldn't conjure all the flowers up himself when he got there was a surprise to me.

It was like he was purposefully sending me on wild goose chases around town.

I turned into my parents' driveway, surprised to see both their cars in the driveway home from work. How had I lost the track of time? I looked at my watch; it was still early. I parked my car behind my father's and jumped up the steps of the porch to the front door.

"Hello? Mom? Dad?" I called inside.

Suddenly, my parent's Pomeranian, Woof, came to greet me home.

I scratched him behind his excited ears and he wagged his little tail.

My parents' house was a modest home and full of pictures of us together throughout the years. Vacations in Florida on the beach and New York with the massive buildings were some of my favorite memories.

"In here!" I heard my mom's pleasant voice call.

While most students my age were living in dorms on campus or on their own in apartments nearby, I never found the need. Being able to live rent-free while I finished school was one thing I enjoyed most particularly. I wasn't ashamed of still living with them; in fact, I enjoyed it while I could knowing that in less than a year I'd be out on my own making my own way in the world.

I placed my backpack on the couch of the formal living room and navigated towards the kitchen where I heard the familiar sound of pots and pans being taken out–without much care, mind you–signaling that my mother was getting ready to cook a massive dinner.

We were definitely having guests over.

As I rounded the kitchen, I saw my mother doing exactly that. My father was sitting in the living room in his favorite chair watching the big screen in the corner of the room.

I placed my hands on my hips. "So, who's coming over?"

My mother spread her arms wide to pull me into a big hug. "My wonderful, beautiful daughter is here!" This meant one thing. Whoever it was, it was not going to be someone I wanted to see.

She planted a big kiss on my cheek. I awkwardly stood there as she did it. She knew I wasn't going to be happy. My mother was always a petite woman. She was smaller than average with crazy blond hair and wonderful, expressive green eyes. I'd always envied her eyes, wondering why when I was born I didn't receive that trait. My parents were always warm and comforting and didn't let me want for anything. Everything they could do for me, they did.

Our home was always full of love.

I looked to my dad. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

He shrugged his shoulders and tapped his lap when Woof came to him giving him permission to jump onto his lap. "It wasn't my idea."

Woof leapt up and settled on his lap and my dad swiveled his chair back towards the television.

I turned to my mom. "You haven't answered my question."

I saw the excitement in her eyes as she pulled away and back to the island counter in the large white kitchen. "Do you remember Lorraine? My co-worker from ACE?"

I nodded remembering ACE being the company my mother worked at for almost all of my teenage years. She still saw her from time to time.

"Did you know she has a son? He's a successful banker in the city -"

"No," I moaned. "Please don't. Not setting me up, again!"

She hushed me. "He's back in town from the big city and wants to meet you!"

I saw through her lies and squinted my eyes at her in a mock glare. "No, he doesn't."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Emmy. Work with me here! I even got you a dress."

I rolled my eyes and snorted in the loudest way possible to show my displeasure. "Mom, please, I don't need a matchmaker!"

As she got the utensils ready, she forcefully set down the salad serving fork. "Emylin, you need a boyfriend! You are twenty-two years old!"

"I don't need my relationship status to define my life, mother!"

"Say it, sister!"

Both my mother and I looked over to the living room where my dad had started overhearing our conversation.

He quivered under my mother's deadly gaze. "I'm going to go set up the grill." He suddenly disappeared through the slider doors to the deck at the back of the house.

I shook my head and looked at her exasperated. "Does it really bother you that much?"

She sighed and continued getting everything ready. "I worry about you, Emmy. Your life doesn't start after college, it's happening now, all around you. School is important, but not so important you miss out on life."

I smiled weakly and walked to her placing my arms around her shoulders behind her in a hug. "I'm alright, Mom. Honestly. Damien keeps me sane."

She sighed. "That Damien. Is he ever going to ask you out?"

Mom first met Damien when I was eighteen. He rang the doorbell and invited himself over for dinner, claiming he was my friend. He'd brought my mother flowers and my father a cut of steak that he'd never find anywhere else. It was perplexing to me the man that repeatedly asked me to keep him a secret suddenly went to my parents as if they were old friends.

When I asked, he simply said, "Princes do not hide."

They didn't know specifics. They presumed he was a guy I'd met at school and was trying to go out with me. They were wrong on both accounts, but I never corrected them.

He was respectful, charming, perfect–and he always seemed to know what to say. Mom did hope he was there to win my heart, but eventually they learned we would never be a couple only best friends.

Getting back to the present conversation, I shook my head and placed my chin on her shoulder.

I hoped he wouldn't ask. I only ever saw Damien as a friend. He was almost a brother to me.

I laughed at her comment. "He's found someone. Do you remember Leah?"

I felt her tense beneath my arms. "Oh, that witch."

I shrugged my shoulders. "He seems to like her."

She shook her head. "He can do so much better. Have you told him that?"

I sighed, dropping my arms. "It's so complicated. I really don't even want to say anything. Besides, I think she's changed. She seems more grown up, somehow."

She looked at me with questioning eyes. "I think you owe it to him to tell him what she's capable of, Emmy. She is an absolute witch."

I laughed at my mother.

We both suddenly heard a loud crash outside making us turn to the back porch. "Son of a bitch!"

She sighed. "It sounds like your father dropped the grill on his toe. Again." She turned towards the doors.

I stopped her and went to the doors. "I'll go help him."

"Can I count on you to be here at 7:30 then?" She shouted over the curses my dad was saying outside.

I bit my lip, but walked towards the back anyway. "I have to help Damien with something, but I should be home by then."

By the time I showered, washed my hair, changed, and drove to Vic's, I was almost late. I ran to the hostess and told her my name, and she quickly took me down a small hallway to the private room.

Vic's was one of the best restaurants in town, or so everyone told me. Their claim to fame was the classic spaghetti and meatballs that everyone said was their favorite. It was popular for a Friday night, which made securing the private room almost impossible. It's amazing what a couple hundred dollar bills could do.

It was a small room in the back of the restaurant away from the noise and the prying eyes of the patrons. Exactly how Damien liked it. It was usually used for small weddings and corporate gatherings.

The florist made it before I did and was already setting up the room. There were white chrysanthemums and some white lilies. The arrangements were large and made the room more elegant when matched with the dark cherry wood and green carpet.

In the middle of the room, there was a table set for two with a candlestick set between the table settings. It was much too fancy for my taste, but perfect for Leah.

A woman dressed in a white and black uniform sprinted towards me. "Hi, I'm Zoe. I'll be their server this evening. The florists say they're just about ready. They need a couple of more arrangements from the truck and they'll be done."

I nodded, setting my purse on one of the chairs. "Great work, I think they'll really like this. Please, just make sure they're not disturbed while they have dinner."

She nodded, blond curls bouncing. "I'd be happy to make sure they have everything they need." She walked over to the table as she spoke. "I wasn't sure what kind of wine they would want. If it was white, I wanted to make sure it was chilled before they arrived."

I made a face, shaking my head. "No white, just red." Damien hated white wine.

"Excellent choice."

I didn't turn to Damien whose deep, silky voice I heard behind me. He'd just suddenly appeared. I felt his warm body standing behind me where I had previously felt nothing before.

The girl had been turned away from us, but when she heard Damien speak she looked at us open-mouthed, suddenly blushing. "I-I didn't see you there, I'm so sorry, I should have asked what you would have preferred-"

"Emmy knows my taste in food and wine. She made the perfect selection."

The girl stammered. "I-I'll just go get the bottle. I'll be right back." And she left the room. The girls' expressions were always the same when they saw Damien for the first time. First, they blushed, then they stammered or giggled, then looked away as if it was too painful to look at him.

I turned to look at him, smiling, excited to show him the work I'd put into the room.

He wore a black suit with his dark hair tousled. His purple eyes and white skin were a sharp contrast to his clothes. He looked like he was ready to walk down the runways of the famous fashion houses. "Em, this place looks beautiful."

I curtsied, taking the compliment, "Why, thank you. You know, it almost didn't happen. Do you know how hard it is to pull something off like this in two days?"

He smiled at me sweetly as he walked around to the other side of the table. "If anyone could do it, it would be you." Two glasses full of red wine appeared in a small black smoke he'd conjured in his hands. "A toast."

I took a glass and held it in front as he held his. At a loss for words, I offered, "To your future queen."

The corner of his lip turned up slightly, and looking away, he took a sip of the wine.

I sipped as well, relishing in the sweet taste. "What is it? Have I had it?"

He shook his head, "It's nothing you can find here."

The florist came in the room and set the final bouquet down. "All done, miss!"

I grabbed a couple of bills from my purse and handed them to the man. "Thank you. Please tell Anne that I'm very happy with the work and appreciate how much time you've dedicated to this."

The man nodded and left the room quickly. I followed him and closed the double doors leading to the hallway behind him as he left.

I turned to Damien, my hands still on the handles. "Are you ready? She should be here any minute."

He nodded as he took petals from one the lilies in his hand. "I'm confident this will go well."

I nodded, taking another small sip of the wine. "So, what are the plans? Are you going to tell her everything tonight?"

He nodded. "Yes, everything. She should know who she is already, where she comes from, what she is capable of doing. She will be perfect."

"What happened to waiting?"

He shook his head. "No time."

I chewed on my lower lip, my mother's words echoing in my mind.

Leah had been a nightmare when we were teenagers, but lately, I barely acknowledged her. I stuck to my guns, maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

I cleared my throat. "Any chance you will tell me what's going on?"

He looked at me confused. "I have," he answered.

"No," I insisted. "When I first asked you why you needed a queen so fast, you said 'stuff'. That's not a reason, Damien."

He laughed. "Are you saying that I need your permission to marry?"

"What?" I asked, horrified. "No, no, of course not. That's not what I mean. Something big is going on and you're leaving me in the dark."

He looked at me then as if to say, 'what's your point?'

"Damien, marriage is a huge deal. I don't know if you know this, but sometimes it's spending your entire lives together–how can you possibly downplay this whole thing? Why does it have to be the first faerie that doesn't live in your kingdom? What is the urgency? Are you in danger? Does this somehow have something to do with your father?"

"Em," he warned as if I was walking into dangerous territory.

"Listen, I'm your friend. I just want to help you. Why won't you tell me anything about this? I've never pried for details, but this is your life, Damien! I'm worried about you."

He didn't look at me. His eyes were cast downward, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly upwards. "You really are nosy, aren't you?"

I shrugged. "Am I? I've always been respectful of your secrets and what you choose to share–mainly because it's not a decision that could probably screw up your life."

He moved from the other side of the room to right in front of me before I'd even noticed. I looked up at his violet eyes. I'd never seen such sadness there. He sighed. "I can't tell you the specifics, Em."

I scoffed. "But you'll tell her everything?"

He didn't miss a beat. "Yes."

It was like a sharp stab to my heart. That hurt. I always thought I was the one person he could confide in. He did keep secrets from me, I didn't know everything about him or his situations...but this was different.

Even when his father died he had been forthcoming about the investigation into his death, the new rules he had as King, how he felt about the transition –

Why was this so different?

And he noticed. He noticed how I suddenly deflated. I was sure he could see the pain in my eyes even as I tried to look away to hide them.

He sighed, quietly. I could see frustration in him not directed towards me but to himself. "Shit," he murmured. "I'm sorry, Em. I didn't meant it like that. I wish I could tell you, I want to tell you."

I shrugged, looking away. "I only want to help you."

"Damien?"

We both looked to the doorway and saw Leah standing there in a beautiful figure-hugging black dress. Her blond hair was pulled back in an elegant up-do and she clutched a crystal studded purse in her manicured hands.

She looked stunning, with expertly applied eyeshadow and rosy pink cheeks.

I looked at how closely Damien was standing next to me and took a step away, not sure how it looked. I crossed my arms, holding my elbows.

She frowned at me, "Emylin? Do you work here?"

I resisted from rolling my eyes. Of course she would think that. Why would I ever be around someone like Damien?

I shook my head, but Damien walked over to her, took her hand and lightly kissed her knuckles. "Good evening, Leah. You look stunning."

Leah smiled and followed Damien as he led her to me by her hand. "Leah, please meet my dear friend, Emylin."

She frowned as she looked between the two of us, confused. I cleared my throat. "We've been friends for a long time."

He gestured to the room with an open palm. "She set this up for us, Leah."

Leah never smiled at me–ever–and for the first time in my life, she finally did. Her smile reached her blue eyes. I'd never been envious of anyone's looks until that moment. In high school, she was the most popular girl, dating the most popular boy, and he didn't date her because of her personality, no, it was her looks. She probably had an easier life than most people, most likely relying on her looks to get by.

Or so it seemed. With what Damien recently discovered about her, it left a lot to the imagination on what she knew and didn't know and how it affected her life at some point. I felt a small pang in my heart for her. Her world was about to come tumbling down–she'd question everything about herself, her friends, her family. How much of her life was a genuine human experience or a coincidence of the untapped magic she contained within herself?

I no longer envied her.

I pitied her.

She probably couldn't help herself when she'd bully me. She probably couldn't contain her 'true' nature as Damien had so many times told me. He always said he'd check himself around me–his dark faerie magic turned everyone cruel to a point, he'd say.

She looked around the room in amazement, "This is beautiful, Emylin. Thank you."

The conversation before she came into the room was dead. I looked to Damien. I could tell I wouldn't get any more answers from him.

I tried not to sound irritated but it came out more harshly than I intended. "Before I forget." I reached into my purse sitting in one of the chairs and handed him a wad of bills. "Here's your change for everything."

I saw Leah's eyes widened when she saw the large roll in my hand.

He took a deep breath as if exasperated. "I have no use for that, Em. You know that."

"Fine, then, I'll just make sure your server takes extra good care of you." I swung my purse over my shoulder. "I have to get going. My parents are waiting."

Leah seemed like she was bubbling over. "Are you sure you don't want to join us for dinner?"

Surprised, I shook my head. "No, thanks. I can't eat most of the things on the menu, anyway. Besides, I have my own date to get to."

A slight crease appeared on Damien's perfect forehead as he looked at me. "A date?"

I shrugged. "Mom set us up."

He chuckled. He knew fully well about my mom's multiple attempts to set me up with someone. "Your mother is persistent."

I turned towards them when I reached the door. Damien had a red rose in his hand, handing it to a bewildered Leah. I hadn't ordered red roses. It was something that he had just now made appear in his hand.

She gasped quietly and whispered, "How did you do that?"

He reached out and gently touched a hair from her face. "There's something I need to tell you, Leah."

Well, that was blunt.

Before another word was spoken, I was out of the room, closing the doors.

I placed my back against the door and took a deep, shaky breath. While there was some relief that setting up their first date was over–I'd jump through more hoops than I'd care to–what Damien said hurt deeply.