The Fae King's Chosen

Chapter 13 - Divided Loyalties

The council chamber felt colder than Alessia remembered. Perhaps it was the weight of the words spoken within its walls, or perhaps it was the way Oberon’s gaze seemed to avoid hers ever since the meeting had started. Either way, a chill settled deep in her bones as she listened to the voices of the fae lords and advisors around the table.

“Our people are growing restless,” one of the advisors said, his voice clipped and stern. “The ball stirred more than just interest in the suitors. Some of the factions are starting to question whether bringing humans into our realm is the right course of action at all.”

Alessia’s chest tightened at his words. She had known there would be resistance—Caelorn had warned her of that much—but hearing it stated so plainly, so harshly, was another matter entirely.

“The Reformers support the prophecy,” another advisor said, his tone more measured. “But the Preservers are... less convinced.”

Less convinced. Alessia couldn’t help but feel like an outsider, as if she were a pawn in some grand political game she didn’t understand. These factions—Reformers, Preservers, Rogues—were all vying for something she couldn’t yet see, something that involved her whether she liked it or not.

Oberon’s voice cut through the murmurs. “The prophecy is clear. Alessia’s arrival marks the beginning of a new era for our realm. Whether the Preservers agree or not, we cannot afford to ignore the signs.”

His words were firm, decisive, but there was an edge to them, a frustration simmering beneath the surface. Alessia could feel the tension in the room thickening with every passing moment, the divisions between the fae factions becoming more pronounced.

One of the lords leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “But what of the Rogues? We’ve heard whispers that they’re planning something—something dangerous.”

Alessia’s heart skipped a beat. She had heard little about the Rogues since arriving in Silvaris, but what she had learned had been enough to make her uneasy. Unlike the Reformers, who sought to adapt and embrace change, or the Preservers, who clung to tradition, the Rogues were a wild card—unpredictable and willing to take risks to get what they wanted.

“We don’t yet know the full extent of their plans,” Oberon said, his tone measured. “But we are keeping a close eye on their movements.”

Alessia’s gaze flickered to Caelorn, who stood silently by Oberon’s side. His expression was unreadable, but she could sense the tension radiating from him as well. The Rogues were a threat—one that couldn’t be ignored.

“And what about me?” Alessia asked, her voice breaking through the heavy silence. She hadn’t meant to speak, but the question had been burning inside her for too long. “What exactly is my role in all of this?”

All eyes turned to her, the weight of their gazes making her feel small and exposed. Oberon’s expression softened slightly, but there was still a guardedness in his eyes that hadn’t been there the night before.

“You are central to the prophecy, Alessia,” Oberon said, his voice gentler now. “Your presence here is not a coincidence. The curse cannot be broken without you. But we don’t yet know how, or what steps need to be taken to fulfill the prophecy.”

Her heart sank. She had hoped for clearer answers, something to help her make sense of everything that had been happening since she arrived in this realm. But instead, it felt like she was wandering blindly through a maze with no end in sight.

“I don’t want to be part of some prophecy,” Alessia said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Oberon’s gaze softened even further, and for a moment, she saw the man she had kissed the night before—the man who had promised her she wasn’t alone in this. But the king in him remained present, his duty weighing heavily on his shoulders.

“You may not have asked for this,” Oberon said, his voice low. “But you are here now, and our realm needs you.”

Alessia looked down at the table, her mind spinning with doubts and questions. How could she possibly be the key to saving this realm when she barely understood it herself?

The conversation shifted back to the factions, but Alessia barely heard the words being spoken. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the prophecy, the curse, and the weight of the expectations being placed on her shoulders. She hadn’t asked for any of this. She hadn’t wanted to be part of some ancient prophecy that dictated the fate of an entire realm.

And yet, here she was.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shift in the room’s energy. One of the advisors stood, his face pale and his eyes wide with alarm. “Your Majesty, news from the northern border.”

Oberon straightened in his seat, his attention immediately focused on the advisor. “What news?”

“There’s been an attack,” the advisor said, his voice trembling slightly. “A group of Rogues ambushed one of our outposts. Several fae were injured, and they’re demanding that we abandon the prophecy altogether.”

Alessia’s heart raced, fear surging through her veins. The Rogues were no longer just a whisper in the shadows—they were a real, immediate threat.

Oberon’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he absorbed the news. “Have reinforcements been sent?”

The advisor nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. But the situation is... unstable. The Rogues are growing more aggressive, and there are rumors that they’ve been gathering allies from the outer realms.”

Oberon stood, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. “We cannot allow the Rogues to disrupt the peace we’ve fought so hard to maintain. Send word to the northern commanders—I want this situation contained before it spreads.”

The advisor bowed and hurried out of the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Alessia’s heart pounded in her chest. The Rogues were becoming bolder, their opposition to the prophecy growing more dangerous by the day. And now, it seemed that war was brewing on the horizon.

As the council continued to discuss the situation, Alessia couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out. The factions were divided, the Rogues were growing more powerful, and she still had no idea how she was supposed to break the curse.

She glanced at Oberon, who stood at the head of the table, his gaze fixed on the documents before him. He looked every bit the king—strong, resolute, and determined. But beneath the surface, she could sense the turmoil, the weight of the decisions he was being forced to make.

And then there was the kiss.

The memory of it lingered in the back of her mind, a reminder of the connection they had shared. But now, in the cold light of day, everything felt more complicated. What had that kiss meant? Was it a step toward something deeper, or was it just a momentary lapse in the face of overwhelming circumstances?

As the meeting drew to a close, Oberon turned to her, his expression unreadable. “We’ll need to meet with the northern commanders this evening. I’ll want you there.”

Alessia nodded, her heart heavy with uncertainty. “Of course.”

But as she left the council chamber, her mind was already racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. The Rogues, the prophecy, and the growing tension between her and Oberon—it was all building toward something. Something that felt like it was spiraling out of control.