Kiki's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Every harvest moon, the fae princess walked Peachdrip's orchards, and Kiki wanted her to stay. Kiki was the loudest picker in the village, red hair tied back, laughing as she filled baskets. The villagers loved her warmth. But the old women warned her the fae hated it. "They see a smiling human and think you're a fool," one said. "She'll look right through you." Kiki only grinned wider and kept planning. Tonight she would meet the princess, and she refused to be dismissed. She dressed in a bodice laced with living vines, green leaves curling across the fabric. She carried a lyre carved from the orchard's oldest tree, the peachwood warm under her hands. Tucked in her basket sat one strange peach, its skin glowing like a small moon. She'd picked it that morning from the same ancient tree. It seemed too bright to be ordinary, and she saved it for one purpose. The princess appeared between the rows as the moon rose. She was tall, pale, and cold-eyed, and she did not slow for Kiki. Her gaze slid past the vine-laced bodice, past the smile, as if Kiki were only another mortal in her way. Kiki blocked the path. She lifted the lyre and played. The notes were clumsy at first, then steadier. She sang about the orchard, about long summers and sweet fruit, and she laughed at her own cracked high note. The princess stopped. "Humans always sing," she said. "It changes nothing." Her voice was flat. She turned to leave. Kiki set down the lyre. "Then don't listen," she said, still cheerful. "Just taste this." She held out the glowing peach. "I picked it for you. If it's nothing, walk away and I won't chase you." The princess paused. Curiosity cracked her cold face. She took the peach, studied its luminous skin, and bit. Juice ran bright down her chin. Her eyes went wide. She swayed, gripping Kiki's wrist. A thread of golden light spun out from the peach, wound up her arm, and looped around Kiki's hand too. It pulled tight, binding them wrist to wrist. "What did you do?" the princess gasped. She yanked, but the light held. "This fruit—" She stared at the half-eaten peach in horror. "That tree is old fae magic. A shared bite binds the eater to the giver. You've bound me to you." Kiki's heart pounded. She had wanted the princess to notice her. She had not wanted a chain of light welding their hands together. "I didn't know," Kiki said. For once she wasn't laughing. The princess pulled again, and the golden thread only glowed brighter. Her cold mask was gone now, replaced by fear and fury. "You foolish mortal," she whispered. "My father cannot see this. If the fae court learns their princess is tied to a human, they will hunt you." The orchard had gone silent. Kiki looked down at their joined wrists, then up at the princess she had just captured and doomed in the same breath.