Lunara Dewdrop stood on a crate in the market square, waiting to speak for a seat on the council. She was a fairy, but she stood as tall as any farmer in the crowd. No fairy had ever asked mortals for a place among their rulers. Her wings pressed flat against her back so no one could call her strange. Today she meant to prove her kind deserved a voice. A broad man in a tax collector's coat climbed onto a barrel across from her. He was the official who stamped every deed in the district. He raised his ledger and laughed so the whole square could hear. "A fairy on the council?" he shouted. "Should we let the sparrows vote next? Go home, little sprite, before you break your dolly wings." The crowd laughed with him. People turned away. Lunara felt the moment slipping, the way water slips through open fingers. If she argued, she would sound shrill. If she stayed silent, she lost before she began. She stepped down from the crate. She did not shout. Instead she pointed past the official, toward a stone cottage at the edge of the square. Its rounded walls and rustic door were known to everyone. Smoke curled from the chimney. "That cottage caught fire last winter," Lunara said. Her voice carried without a shout. "Some of you remember. The family inside would have burned. I carried water through the door until the town brigade came. I am tall enough to reach a high window. Strong enough to lift a beam. Ask them." An old woman near the front nodded slowly. "She speaks true," the woman said. "She pulled my grandson out." The laughter died. Lunara did not stop. "You mock what you have not seen. I am not a sparrow. I stand at your height. I work at your side. I ask only to sit at your table and help decide what happens to towns like this one." The official's smile cracked. He looked at the barrel under his boots, then at the quiet crowd. He had counted on their laughter. Now the laughter belonged to no one. "Words," he said. But his voice had lost its edge. "Then bring me before the council," Lunara answered. "Let them judge my words, not you." A murmur ran through the square. It was agreement. The old woman raised her hand, and others followed. The official climbed down from his barrel without another line. Lunara had won the crowd. But the official straightened his coat and fixed his eyes on her. "You want the council?" he said, loud again. "Fine. I will take you there myself. And I will tell every member how a fairy shamed a servant of the crown in the open square." He turned and walked toward the council hall. Lunara had earned her chance to speak. Now she would face the full council with an enemy leading her to the door.