We hesitate, exchanging glances as the wind rises again, sharp and biting, the rain soaking through what little warmth we have left. The thought of staying out here, of wandering blind through a storm that hides more than it reveals, makes me uneasy.
“It’s your choice,” Lord Ferngull adds lightly, though there’s something firmer beneath the words. “But this storm isn’t in any hurry to leave. And neither are the things it conceals.”
“He has a point there,” Ashton says softly.
“But, which is safer–” I begin, but then stop myself from saying more.
Lord Ferngull's gaze lingers on us a moment longer, sharper now, more assessing than before. Like he’s weighing something.
“Forgive me,” he says after a beat, tilting his head slightly. “I’ve offered shelter without even asking who I have the pleasure of hosting.”
The others go still beside me. Knowledge is power, and we don’t know this man. He’s obviously a fae, from his pointed ears to his strange beauty, but that doesn’t mean his loyalty is to these four men. The labyrinth could’ve twisted him into something else. Something dangerous to us.
And yet, he is offering us his hospitality. Our names are a small price to pay.Right?
“I’m Alette,” I offer softly, knowing my name won’t matter when he hears theirs.
Sylvian steps forward. “Sylvian,” he says, voice smooth and cool, carrying easily despite the storm. “King of the Winter Fae.”
A brief shift crosses Lord Ferngull’s face.
“Cassius,” comes the next introduction, sharper, edged with something darker. “King of the Water Fae.”
“Oberon,” the fire fae says, low and rough, power threaded through the single word. “King of the Fire Fae.”
A final step forward. A quieter voice, but no less certain.
“Ashton,” he says. “King of the Wind Fae.”
It takes Lord Ferngull a second to respond, his pleasant expression faltering as his eyes widen ever so slightly and the weight of it sinks in. He looks from one to the next, like he’s making sure he heard correctly, like he’s counting them.
The shift in him is instant. He straightens sharply, then bows, deep and formal, nothing like the easy friendliness from before.
“My apologies,” he says, and now there’s no mistaking the reverence in his voice. “Had I known I stood before the Fae Kings themselves, I would have greeted you with the honor you are due.”
When he fully stands once more, something like awe lingers in his expression, bright and unmistakable.
“It has been a very long time since a Fae King has walked these lands,” he continues, a breath of disbelief slipping through.“To receive all four at once…” He shakes his head slightly, as if still trying to reconcile it.
“I am… deeply honored. Please, whatever aid you require, it is yours. My home, my protection, my resources. You need only ask.”
He bows, deep and formal, nothing like the casual friendliness from before. This is something older. Reverent.
“To my castle?” he asks.
Are we going there? Does this mean we’re safe?I honestly can’t tell. Nothing seems to be safe in the labyrinth.
My gaze goes to the others, but they’re all staring at me, frowning.
“She could get sick spending a night out in a storm like this,” Cassius says.
“We can’t risk that,” Oberon murmurs.
Reluctantly, I take a deep breath, my pulse quickening as I look at the strange man. “Alright. We’ll go with you.”
Lord Ferngull beams, the smile transforming his sharp features into something almost disarming. “Wonderful. Follow me, then.”
We fall in line behind him, the storm swallowing the sound of our steps as we move deeper into the labyrinth. Rain soaks through everything, cold and relentless, and I pull my arms tighter around my shaking body, already imagining what waits ahead.
