Violet Amethyst's Arc

Chapter 4 of 9

The prince spoke of the last fairy for a long while. She had loved him. She had faded to nothing in a single winter, her wings turning to ash. When he finished, he looked at Violet like a man closing a door. "Now you know," he said. "Any fairy who loves me shares her fate. So don't." Violet stayed on the broken bench. She had no clever answer. She had chased him three weeks, and the truth left her with nothing to trade. The dead roses hung over them. Outside the glass, Kai's shadow held its place, one hour ticking down. "Why did she fade?" Violet asked. "Because she gave herself to me and got nothing back that could hold her." His voice went flat. "Love drained her. I have nothing to return." The door of the conservatory scraped open. Kai stepped through first, jaw tight, ready. Behind him came a red-haired girl in a hoodie and scuffed sneakers, hugging a book to her chest. April. Violet's friend from the fairy libraries, who read every cursed thing no one else would touch. "She wouldn't wait outside," Kai said. "Says it can't wait." April's green eyes darted to the prince, then away. She fumbled the book open. "Sorry. Hi. I found it. The record of the last fairy." She pushed a page toward Violet. "She didn't fade because she loved him. She faded because she gave her whole self and kept nothing. She had no dust left. Nothing to anchor her." The prince stood. "That changes nothing." "It changes everything," April said, cheeks burning. She hated crowds, hated eyes on her, and still she held her ground. "A fairy fades when she's empty. Not when she's loved." Violet rose. She drew the vial from her belt. Royal purple dust turned inside the glass, catching the gray light. She had offered it once as proof of honesty. Now she understood what it was. "This is mine," she told the prince. "My anchor. I don't have to pour all of myself into you. I can love you and stay full." She held the vial up. "She didn't know that. I do." The prince stared at the dust. Something cracked in his face, the flat mask slipping. "You could still be wrong." "Then I'll be wrong holding onto myself," Violet said. "Not empty. Not ash." He was silent. Then, low: "I've spent years believing I was poison." He looked at her, and the old certainty was gone. "You've given me a reason to doubt it. I don't know what to do with that." "Doubt it," Violet said. "That's all I'm asking." Kai let out a breath behind her. April clutched her book, almost smiling. The prince stepped back toward the roses. "Meet me again," he said. "Not to prove I'm safe. To learn if you're right." Then he pulled his hood up and was gone through the far door. He had not opened his heart. But he had stopped guarding the gate.