Summer in the Winter Court

The first time Avery had set off into the world of the Fae, things had gone catastrophically wrong. She’d ended up stuck in a castle for 16 years, working as a slave under the King and Queen of the winter court. However, when she finally returned back to the realm of the mortals, she realised how differently time works between the two realms. It had only been two days.

Of course, the next time she went back to the world of Fae, things didn’t go much better; she ended up trapped in the Spring Court, where she danced for four years without stopping. The music enticed her as she danced with creatures too ethereal to possibly belong to her realm. The dancing only stopped when the music did, the musicians all dropping dead simultaneously; mortals who had spent far too long in the fae realm and who no longer had to will to play on. Music can only caress the soul for so long, and so Avery ended up running as fast as she could back to the Mortal realm. This time, three weeks had passed.

The third time, Avery had spent eight peaceful years in the court of summer. She had bathed under both sunlight and moonlight, swam through waterfalls of silver and relished in all the fineries the royals had to offer. That was, until war came and Avery then spent three years in the dungeons of the winter court. When she returned to the mortal realm three months later, it was still the same day as when she’d left eleven years ago.

So this time, as she stood between the border of the summer and winter court, why did she possibly expect anything to be different? The fae were tricky, cunning and cruel creatures. You could never tell the difference between those who were benevolent and those who were malevolent until a minute too late. The reason remained unknown to her as to why she had come back after so many years here of pain.

Questions plagued her mind and she trudged across the border, surrounded by guards of the winter court. She marvelled at how quickly the weather had changed. The warmth of the summer court had been left behind, the sun fading behind a cloud, as small white snowflakes fell from the sky. An illusion of beauty and innocence that hid the cruel fate that awaited the poor souls who passed the gates ahead.

It was technically summer at the moment, but in a court where winter eternally rules, Avery didn’t exactly expect sunshine and rainbows. Instead, the cold nipped at her fingers, almost injecting itself into her until she was completely numb and all that she could do was hope to make it home before she froze to death.

For the third time, Avery was presented to the royal family who would decide her fate. She wondered whether she would rather the years of scrubbing until her fingers were blistered and sore, or if she’d rather spend the time in the dungeon where the silence was deafening and the darkness whispered stories of misery and doom.

She’d learnt by now that it was best to keep her head down and her eyes glued to floor when kneeling before the royals. They were fickle creatures and had a cruel obsession with pain, as she’d learnt the hard way. This time was different though. The atmosphere was less tense, the throne room held a sense of light and warmth even through the cold blizzard that raged outside and the lack of sun to warm the grounds.

She dared to glance towards the thrones, or rather throne as she realised. Her eyes were fixed on the male who sat above her, lounged across the throne, a feral grin on his face. Pointed ears, eyes such a pale blue they could be mistaken for orbs of ice instead and a purely animalistic smile painted across his face.

Zavier. The youngest prince of the royal family, one who she had never met; a person she had only heard whispers of throughout the castle. A reckless, mischievous faerie. A true force to be reckoned with.

He’d been sent away during the time that Avery had been here, to the black mountains to train and to be punished for rebelling against his family. He was not a benevolent fae by any means, but he was seemingly different to the rest. It was not just that he did not play by the same rules as other, but rather the fact that he seemed to be playing a completely different game altogether. One that no one else could seem to understand. That alone, made him very dangerous.

As Avery kneeled transfixed before the young prince, she realised all of three things. The first being that none of his family were sat beside him, their thrones and family portrait had been removed too as if they were not expected to return.

She gulped.

The second thing she realised was that the guards were no longer holding her, and that she was not shackled as she had been in the times before in which she’d had the misfortune of arriving here. Her mind didn’t dare to ponder over the possible reasons as to why they had not shackled her, but instead just remained grateful for the fact that they hadn’t.

The final thing she realised was the prince himself.

Despite the mischievous glint in his eyes, the feral grin on his mouth and the mysterious and dangerous aura that surrounded him, he was beautiful. Devastatingly so.

Avery found herself mesmerized by his gaze; lost in a kind of way she had never experienced before. Lost in a kind of way that if it meant she could gaze at him forever, then she would gladly never find her way, and remain lost. She decided if she were to die in that moment, then she would be okay with knowing she had died in the

presence of such beauty.

Zavier on the other hand, had never liked mortals. They were foolish, boring, and quite frankly, annoying. So, in that moment he wondered as to why he found himself so transfixed by the one in front of him. She didn’t seem to be at all different to those that he had met before, so why was he so captivated by her? Perhaps it was her hypnotizing eyes, a green so deep, like the endless forest before it snowed, or the most priceless jade jewellery. They seemed to pull him in and tell him stories of lands beyond his imagination, stories of danger and adventure.

The reason as to why he was so fascinated by this mortal was a mystery to him, but he found himself longing to know more about her and the stories she may have to tell.

There was something different about this mortal, a light seemed to surround her, but it shone from inside a deep darkness. She appeared so simple, yet it was almost as if there were another side to her, a depth beyond the surface. It was as if the front that she showed to him were simply the thin icy layer, covering the deep blue lake below.

He was proved to be correct when he was pulled out of his thoughts by the cold blade of a knife pressed against his throat. The mortal’s voice whispered in his ear.

“Hello Zavier, remember me?”