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.

The golden thread still bound their wrists when the light spread. It crawled up Kiki's arm, bright as fire on her skin. Then it leapt to the princess, tracing fine lines of gold across her pale face and hands. The princess gasped. Her whole body glowed like a lantern in the dark orchard. "They'll see this for miles," the princess said. Her name was Lunaria Silvergleam, though Kiki did not yet know it. She yanked her marked hand back and stared at the shining lines. "I have to reach the fae wild. My magic can hide me there." She lifted her free hand and whispered a word. Nothing happened. No door opened in the air. No path pulled her away. Lunaria tried again, louder, her voice cracking. The gold lines only burned brighter. "It's gone," she breathed. "The bond broke my magic. I can't leave." For the first time she looked truly afraid, and she looked at Kiki like a drowning woman. Kiki's laughter was gone. She grabbed Lunaria's glowing wrist. "Then we hide the light, not you," Kiki said. She pulled the princess between the rows, feet pounding the soft earth. A white dog rose from the grass ahead, long silver coat gleaming in the moonlight. It fell into step beside them without a sound. "The barn," Kiki panted. She dragged Lunaria toward the red walls at the orchard's edge. Behind them, cold voices rang through the trees. The fae court was searching. Lanterns of pale blue light bobbed between the peach trees, coming closer. Kiki shoved the barn doors open and pulled the princess inside. The dog slipped in after them. Kiki heaved the doors shut and dropped the wooden bar. Then she pressed her body against Lunaria, hiding the glow behind her own. The vines on her bodice curled, sensing the fae magic, and their green leaves spread to cover the golden lines. The voices reached the barn wall. Something scraped at the wood. Lunaria trembled against her. "They'll find us," she whispered. "Not tonight," Kiki said. She wrapped her arms tight around the princess. The living vines climbed higher, swallowing the last of the light. Darkness fell over them both. The white dog stood at the door, still and watchful, blocking the gap beneath it with its body. The scraping stopped. The blue lanterns drifted past the barn and faded into the trees. The cold voices moved on. Lunaria let out a shaking breath against Kiki's neck. The gold lines dimmed, but they did not vanish. They had only sunk deeper into her skin. "You saved me," the princess said, wonder in her flat voice. She did not pull away. Kiki grinned in the dark. She had wanted the princess to notice her. Now Lunaria clung to her, hidden, hunted, and bound. But the bond had done more than hide. It had trapped the princess in Kiki's world, with no magic left to carry her home.