Point of View

Poppy’s breathing was heavy and laborious by the time she returned to the vent connected to the prince’s sitting room. She paused and allowed herself time to catch her breath; it was difficult to pronounce incantations without sufficient air, and Poppy wasn’t planning on falling from these air ducts twice.

Once she gained her composure, Poppy glimpsed down into the room and found it empty. The prince must have not returned yet, so it seemed Poppy was in good luck.

This spell required some humming, which wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary, but strange all the same. That is, Poppy’s humming was what was strange. Her voice had never been particularly astonishing, but she managed to avoid ruining the incantation despite her lack in the vocal area.

This spell wasn’t quite as spectacular as the last one, but it allowed her to safely reach the floor without breaking something or worse. Poppy felt the lightness in her step before she hopped between the metal slats and let herself float down to the ground, swaying slightly as if a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. So long as she kept her arms up in a semi-circle around her, she’d be able to descend as slowly as a dandelion seed.

Her feet softly touched the rug and she murmured the cancellation spell to return herself to rights. Poppy glanced about once more, but the prince was nowhere in sight. It seemed she really had left and came back unnoticed.

Since no one was around, Poppy allowed herself to smile giddily. It’d been a long while since she’d felt the thrill of getting away with something, which abruptly made her realize how boring her life had been until now. Perhaps she owed the prince a token of gratitude for somewhat improving her previous, monotonous lifestyle. At least she now had someone to talk to, even if said talking mostly consisted of butting heads.

Poppy’s mind wandered back to the emperor. Something about him had been undeniably cold, and it gave her the shivers. The way his eyes seemed to have met hers. His gaze had been peculiarly accurate, and Poppy had a hard time convincing herself it was a coincidence. However, a man who admitted to being afraid of magic couldn’t possibly have magic of his own, and there was no way a giant without magic of any kind could have seen Poppy through the vent like that. It was impossible.

After telling herself this several times, Poppy was able to more or less put the matter behind her. Now her mind ran over how the prince looked very much like his father, yet without quite the same amount of intensity. The prince was a bit softer around the edges where his father appeared to be all grimaces and scowls.

The broad shape of their shoulders had been similar though. And no one could deny the similarities in hair color and complexion. They were both outrageously tall too, which Poppy found entirely unfair. It was only typical that she ended up living with not just a giant, but a giant among giants. Poppy had never felt so small, nor felt bad about being small before.

In fact, for all of Poppy’s life, she’d been thankful for her tiny stature. It made going by unnoticed much easier. However, now, she felt this inkling. It was a spark that only lasted mere moments, but she wondered how it’d be to stand at the height of a giant, and to look into the prince’s eyes without having to crane her neck or perch on his hand.

This inkling, again, lasted only seconds. Being the size of a giant would be entirely too large and awkward for someone accustomed to the body of a fairy. Poppy was the size she was meant to be, so she swatted away her pesky imagination and set about getting some food. She hadn’t eaten since early that morning and her stomach had begun to audibly announce it.

Just as Poppy started walking towards the kitchen, the bathroom door opened. Steam seeped out around the prince who stood barefoot, wearing a pair of lounge pants and nothing else save for the towel around his neck. Poppy gawked at the half-naked royal, mindlessly observing the flat planes of his torso with wide eyes.

Damn. He was muscular, but in a leaner, more natural way than the emperor. Poppy hated herself for noticing, and even more for comparing. Somehow, though, she felt satisfied by this difference.

Poppy snapped back to reality with a click of her tongue. She wasn’t some tart who drooled over every decent-looking man she saw. Besides, she had no time for such things.

The prince hadn’t yet seen her, so Poppy snuck beneath the chaise lounge. She had the sudden urge to play a nasty prank on him, so she racked her memories for a good spell. Then she realized something.

Had the prince noticed she wasn’t here when he arrived earlier? Or perhaps he’d assumed she was simply out of sight, so he went and took a bath?

Poppy chewed her lip. She felt like she had the advantage as of now, being able to spy on the rest of the castle without the prince being aware of it. If he knew she’d left earlier, that would be quite irksome. Not to mention, it’d be awful if he found out she’d been using magic while he was away.

Poppy sighed and scrubbed at her face. She felt like a child trying not to be caught. Then again, she did set the prince’s couch on fire, so it wasn’t like his no-magic rule came out of left field. And, saints, what if he found out she’d been spying on him? That’d be utterly disastrous.

Well, so long as Poppy didn’t blab on herself, there’d be no chance of him finding that out. She just had to make sure she didn’t mention anything she overheard in the emperor’s sitting room. She wondered if the prince would bring it up.

“There you are!”

Poppy yelped and pivoted to find the man in question peering at her from beside the chaise lounge. “I thought I heard grumbling down here,” he said chipperly. Poppy screwed her mouth at him, but didn’t fight when he gently picked her up and set her in his palm. “What were you doing underneath there? I called out for you when I got home.”

Despite his happy attitude, Poppy felt uncomfortable. Perhaps because she was feeling guilty for something or other, but she brushed this emotion away and adopted her casual appearance of nonchalant. “I thought I saw something shiny underneath there, and knowing you, it could have been something of value.” She shrugged.

“Did it end up being anything worth catching dust bunnies over?” He brushed a bit of lint from her head and Poppy felt her face heat. She avoided looking at his bare chest.

“No, it was just a marble. I ended up kicking it out of frustration and I’m pretty sure I have no idea where it went. I apologize if it was important, but I doubt that was the case since it was beneath the furniture and all.” She waved her hand and felt very unnatural about it.

“A marble? I wonder how that got underneath there. And may I ask why you keep looking at the ceiling?” The prince glanced upward, as if he too could spy the invisible object of fascination which had enraptured Poppy’s attention.

“It’s nothing,” she said defensively. “I’m hungry; you should make me something since you keep everything so far out of reach.”

He smirked at this a bit and returned his attention to Poppy. Crisis averted. “My countertop is quite within reach to anyone of normal stature, I’ll inform you. You’re the one who’s petite enough to fit in the palm of my hand.”

Poppy rolled her eyes, falling back into nonchalance. It was increasingly difficult to maintain her dignity with him so close. It wasn’t like she was infatuated or anything, but Poppy wasn’t exactly someone accustomed to other people. Much less, the opposite sex without half their clothing adorned.

The prince entered the kitchen and carefully let her off onto the table. Beads of water dripped off the longer strands of his hair. When dampened, the color went from almost silver to something more akin to dishwater blonde. He retrieved the towel from where it was slung across his neck and quickly shook it across his head once more to remove some of the dampness.

“I suppose I should quickly go and finish dressing before preparing the food,” the prince pondered out loud. “After all, the ceiling is so garish in here, and I wouldn’t want you looking at something so untasteful during our meal.”

Before Poppy could form a reaction, the prince left the kitchen with a smirk plastered on his lips. Poppy choked on her retort, but couldn’t help the embarrassed twitch of her lips. “Bastard,” she mumbled to the fruit bowl.

~

Prince Kai, heir to the throne of Gorryth, was an expert at schooling his features. Being born into the royal bloodline meant keeping up expectations, so etiquette classes had been one of his many tasks while growing up. One of the many things expected from him.

No matter the occasion, whether it be accompanying his young sister to a tea party or co-hosting the royal banquet, his expressions would always convey the face of a prince. A future emperor. There must always have been a welcoming openness in his appearance, yet also the aura of someone who may not be stepped on. It was a thin line he walked on, and in his nearly two decades of life, Prince Kai believed himself to be unbreakable.

That is, until he met her.

This was, perhaps, the first person Kai had met whom he simply couldn’t seem to compose himself in front of. At times she made the most absurd faces and he couldn’t help but crack a smile. And that mouth of hers… he’d never heard a lady speak like her before.

She was different from the propriety surrounding him. Not just because of what she was, but who she was. Admittedly, this scared Kai to a certain degree. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard as when he was in her company. She seemed to notice the oddness of his behavior, too, which was even more concerning.

The shield Kai had been building around himself all his life wasn’t quite as impenetrable as he’d originally thought.

Still, before he entered his chambers, he schooled his features. Dismissed his guards. Walked into the entryway. Shut the door behind him.

Kai immediately knew something was off, but he still called out like he usually would. “Fairy?”

He knew she had a name, but he was hesitant to ask for it. She’d always called him Prince, despite his full name being traced in gold on every one of his countless portraits in the castle. It was almost like an insult, the way she curved her mouth when she called him that. He found it to be quite funny.

He supposed he’d ask for her name once she was ready to call him by his. Who knew when this would be, though. She didn’t seem like the type to adapt easily.

“Fairy?” he called out again. This time, when there was again no answer, he knew she wasn’t in his chambers. “So the bird found a way out of her cage,” he murmured, smiled to himself.

What an entertaining game they were playing. Yes, she’d been quite right when she accused him of using her for entertainment. But this was so much more than that. This was a relationship they were forming, and Kai believed it would be a mutually beneficial one.

He had things she needed: food, a warm place to stay, companionship… And she had one or two things he needed too. He was hesitant to ask these things of her, but he felt the time was almost right to call in one of his favors.

Now that she was apparently mobile, there was no reason not to. And after this conversation with his father, it seemed the timing was perfect. Kai’s attendant had been right, and there was apparently no one he could trust. Not even his own family.

What he needed was a fly on the wall. Someone who wouldn’t be seen, and would never be in any danger of being caught.

No, Kai wouldn’t ask anything of her if he knew it’d be dangerous. He’d prod the limits, of course, but there would be no actions which would bring her safety into question. After all, if his father was indeed grooming his younger brother to take the throne, then it seemed the fairy would be the last person on his side.

His sister was young, malleable, and beloved by her father. His servants could never be entirely trusted, either. Not even Jaxon was albeit from his father’s manipulation. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the emperor’s. He was so good at spinning his web, people didn’t realize they were working for him until they dug his enemies' graves.

Simply put, Kai needed a spy, and he had the perfect candidate. The question was whether his needs would end up pushing her away in the end. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to bear anyone else leaving him.

Kai sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He decided it’d be best to remain ignorant for now and allow the fairy to believe she held the upper hand. He shucked off his blazer as he entered the bathchamber and began to run the water. He wanted it scalding.