One Century to Marriage. Prisoners of the Magic Kingdom. Natalie Yacobson

queen! Why didn’t you say so before?» Marianne’s mood immediately changed. She had only seen elves up close, but never fairies. But her dream since childhood had been to meet a living fairy. There were rumors about them that they were divinely beautiful and could bestow magical talents on anyone who appealed to them.

      «Is the Fairies’ Queen really your ally?»

      Conrad nodded silently.

      «What did you do to make her your ally? Did you accomplish some feat?»

      «She liked me.»

      «Did you?»

      For some reason Conrad became darker than a cloud.

      «I might even have married her, had I not already been engaged.»

      Marianne thought feverishly about what she heard. She knew she was being naive, but she wanted a fairy sister-in-law so much that nothing else made sense.

      «You’d better marry a fairies’ queen!» She advised Conrad impulsively.

      «And what is about Araminta?»

      Marianne bit her lip. Becoming a fairy sister-in-law was far more interesting than being related to a Fenir’s princess. Besides, a fairies’ queen would be able to drive the aggressive giants away from Cassian’s mountain kingdom.

      «Politics is complicated,» Conrad said philosophically, «and sorcery is even more so.»

      What’s his point? Marianne watched the two bush creatures as they carefully poured drops of sparkling elixir into Araminta’s morning tea. The king’s bride was asleep, but the twig-like fingers of the servant still poured some of the drink into her pale lips.

      «It is a medicine,» Conrad explained.

      «It’s from Shai, like all the gifts he sent,» Marianne suspected. The queen of the fairies is too generous.

      «So what is of it?» Conrad noticed the dark scarlet cloud flying across the sky. His sadness was immediately blown away. The cloud was approaching the window of the royal armory.

      «You go to the tournament, and I will go away!»

      Marianne watched in amazement as her brother hurried off like a schoolboy out of school. What should she do with Araminta now? Leave the girl in the company of two unimaginable creatures? To herself, Marianne had already called them both porcupines. One of them reached out to her with stubby twiggy fingers. Two proboscis-like noses sniffed the air.

      «Madam has arrived!» A hoarse voice called out. «And in the kitchen they are making deer blood soup for us and other servants of her dusky majesty.»

      Are they really picking up smells from the kitchen, which is in the basement below the tower? It is magic.

      One of the creatures braided its limbs- twigs around Araminta’s blonde head.

      «Her consciousness is far from here, a prisoner of the swamp fairies,» it determined.

      «Could you heal her?» Marianne turned to them. She must be insane to put their opinion above that of the Court Physician.

      «She can be put back on her feet, but not her consciousness,» the two husky voices answered in unison. «She will remain a weakling puppet forever.»

      Marianne had the feeling that she was now in the forest, not in the palace, and the dry branches were crunching beneath her feet.

      «Her soul would be carried away into the fairy swamp if she died,» the green creature squinted at the vial of elixir.

      Marianne was dizzy with cryptic phrases. Better to leave these creatures alone. Let them figure out how to heal Araminta on their own.

      Winged Swords

      Medea Shai stood in the empty armory, gracefully spreading her patterned wings. The guards thought it best to leave as soon as she appeared here. Conrad was happy to see her again. Though she brought waves of darkness with her, to him she was like the black sun.

      «I’ve been waiting for you!» He exclaimed from the threshold. «You took your time.»

      «But I have sent gifts to all your subjects that will radically change the country.»

      Conrad did not detect a note of guile in her tone. Medea Shai paced around the circular holder on which the rarest of weapons was laid out. Her dainty black-nailed fingers slid over the double-edged blades. She’d better not hurt herself!

      «You collect swords from Menuel!» Medea Shai was delighted at the sight of his collection. Others were frightened by the hilts in the shape of wings, but she was fascinated by it.

      «There are legends that such swords fly into the heart of the enemy, if you send them, even through the country, strongly wishing someone death,» Conrad remembered the fables of arms dealers. «Such a sword will find its prey and plunge into it.»

      «It’s not a legend, it’s the truth,» the queen of the fairies interrupted him, almost harshly. «True, there is a spell you must first recite before you can send a sword to seek out your enemy. I can teach you…»

      She was silent for a moment, and her brow furrowed in incomprehension. Her wings twitched nervously.

      «But why should I teach you anything? You’re mortal, aren’t you? Not even a mundane elf! I always wanted to marry an elves’ king. No more, no less. And now I’ve changed my mind. I don’t believe it.»

      She gently brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

      «You were so extraordinary. I didn’t expect a human to have the consciousness of an elf.»

      «Was it all because of the armory? Has your opinion of me increased so much because I keep Menuel’s swords in my possession?»

      «It’s not an arsenal, it’s a treasure trove.»

      Medea Shai manipulated one of the swords in some way, and the steel notched wings flapped like they were alive. The sword hung in the air.

      «Who do you want it to kill?» She asked him curtly.

      At first Conrad didn’t even believe her.

      «Do you mean it?»

      «And yourself, what do you think?» Medea Shai flapped her wings sharply and knocked over the sword basket. They scattered across the floor. Their clanging sounded like the echo of a bloodbath.

      «I don’t want to hurt anyone since I met you,» Conrad admitted.

      Medea Shai frowned. The streams of gloom that flew from the tips of her wings grew thicker.

      «It’s strange! I usually bring out the darkest qualities in even the nicest people,» she thought aloud.

      «So it’s different with me.»

      «But every king has at least one mortal enemy. You name it!»

      Well, all right.

      «It is King Meron of Arador.»

      By naming the name Condor didn’t think he was signing his death warrant. The sword dashed through the open window of the armory and flew over the sleeping city like a big arrow.

      «In an hour it will have done the job!» Medea Shai promised.

      Her luxurious wings scuffed the walls of armoires and spears stacked in niches. Conrad was again afraid she would hurt herself. With wings like hers, it’s hard to walk around earthly apartments. There’s too little room, and she doesn’t want to fold her wings with a cape behind her back like her fairies do. She is, after all, a queen.

      Condor noticed the dark-winged fairies circling above the tallest tower spire.

      «They are my retinue,» Medea Shai explained.

      «Don’t they want to fly into the castle?»

      «They’re more at ease in the heights.»

      Conrad