The Fae King's Chosen

Chapter 7 - The Pressure of Politics

Alessia wandered through the palace gardens, her mind a whirl of thoughts. The flowers glowed faintly in the early morning light, their petals humming with the soft pulse of magic that seemed to permeate everything in this world. The beauty of it all should have calmed her, but instead, she felt more on edge with every passing day.

A distant rustle of leaves caught her attention, and she turned to see Caelorn approaching. His presence was reassuring, even if the weight of her new reality had started to settle heavily on her shoulders.

“Alessia,” he greeted, his golden eyes warm. “The king has requested your presence. He wishes to speak with you about an important matter.”

Alessia sighed, pushing aside her lingering unease. She had been in the fae realm for what felt like an eternity now, and yet, every new conversation seemed to reveal another layer of complication. She nodded, following Caelorn toward the palace.

As they walked, Alessia couldn’t help but notice the tension in the air. The palace guards exchanged hushed words, their glances darting toward her before quickly averting. It was subtle, but unmistakable—something was brewing.

“What’s going on?” she asked, glancing up at Caelorn. “Everyone seems... tense.”

Caelorn hesitated for a moment before answering. “There’s been growing unrest among the factions. The king is facing pressure from both the Reformers and the Preservers.”

“The factions?” Alessia asked, her brow furrowing. She had heard whispers of the factions before, but no one had explained them to her in detail.

Caelorn nodded. “The Reformers believe it is time for change. They see you, and the prophecy, as the key to breaking the curse and restoring magic to our realm. They want to push forward—quickly—by encouraging the formation of mate bonds.”

“And the Preservers?” Alessia asked, feeling a knot form in her stomach.

“They are more cautious,” Caelorn explained. “They fear that rushing into this, forming bonds too hastily with human women, might have unforeseen consequences. They value tradition and stability above all else.”

Alessia frowned, her thoughts racing. It seemed like her mere presence in this world had set off a ripple effect of political conflict. And now, she was caught in the middle of it.

They reached the grand hall, where Oberon stood waiting, his dark hair gleaming in the morning light. His expression was serious, though his eyes softened slightly when they landed on her. For a brief moment, Alessia felt that familiar flutter in her chest—the one she tried to ignore whenever he was near.

“Alessia,” Oberon said, his voice a low rumble. “Thank you for coming.”

She nodded, her heart pounding. “Caelorn mentioned something about the factions?”

Oberon sighed, a hint of weariness in his eyes. “Yes. The tensions between the Reformers and the Preservers have been growing, and I fear it may soon reach a tipping point.”

He gestured for her to join him at the large table in the center of the hall. Laid out before them were maps of the fae realm, along with intricate drawings of magical symbols and ancient texts. Alessia glanced over the papers, feeling the weight of the situation settle over her like a heavy cloak.

“The Reformers are pushing for immediate action,” Oberon explained, his tone measured. “They believe that the faster we form mate bonds, the quicker we can restore our magic and break the curse. They are eager to see you bond with someone—to set an example for the others who may follow.”

Alessia’s breath caught. “You mean... they want me to choose a mate.”

Oberon’s gaze met hers, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between them. There was tension in his eyes—something deeper than just political pressure.

“They believe it would be a step toward restoring balance,” Oberon said softly. “But I do not intend to force you into anything.”

Alessia’s pulse quickened. The idea of choosing a mate—of bonding with a fae—still felt too overwhelming, too foreign. She barely understood the depth of the magic that connected them, let alone the implications of forming such a bond.

“What about the Preservers?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

“They are more cautious,” Oberon replied. “They worry that moving too quickly could destabilize our world further. They want to wait, to ensure that the bonds formed are strong and lasting. But even they cannot deny the necessity of breaking the curse.”

Alessia swallowed hard. The weight of expectation was pressing down on her from all sides—political factions, prophecies, and now, the looming question of a mate bond. It was too much, too soon.

“And what do you think?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “What do you want?”

Oberon’s expression softened, and for a moment, the kingly mask he wore slipped. “I want what is best for my people,” he said quietly. “But I also want you to make the choice willingly. I do not wish to see you forced into something you are not ready for.”

Alessia’s heart pounded in her chest. The tension between them was palpable, an invisible thread pulling them closer even as the weight of the world kept them apart.

“There is one solution,” Oberon continued, his tone more formal now. “A ball. It would give you the opportunity to meet other fae, to interact with potential suitors in a more... relaxed setting. The Reformers believe it would show that we are moving forward, while the Preservers see it as a way to ensure the bonds are formed naturally, without rushing.”

“A ball?” Alessia echoed, her mind reeling. “Like... a party?”

Oberon nodded. “Yes. A grand event where you could meet the fae of the court. You would not be required to choose a mate that night, but it would allow you to see what is possible.”

Alessia felt a mix of emotions surge through her—disbelief, amusement, and anxiety all at once. “You’re suggesting I attend a ball so I can... what? Window shop for a mate?”

Caelorn coughed lightly, as though stifling a laugh, but Oberon’s expression remained serious. “I understand how strange it must seem, but it is a way to address the growing tension between the factions. A step forward, without forcing your hand.”

Alessia bit her lip, her mind spinning. The idea of a ball, of being paraded in front of potential suitors, felt both surreal and ridiculous. But it was clear that Oberon was trying to find a solution that would appease the factions while also giving her the space she needed to make her own decisions.

“And you?” Alessia asked, her voice quieter now. “Will you... be one of the suitors?”

For a moment, something flickered in Oberon’s gaze, but he quickly masked it. “I cannot,” he said softly, his tone edged with regret. “As king, I must remain impartial. The factions would see my participation as an attempt to sway you. This is your chance to meet others—those who have not had the same... exposure to you as I have.”

Alessia’s heart sank at his words, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. There was a strange sense of disappointment, mixed with relief. The tension between them still simmered beneath the surface, unresolved.

“So, I’m supposed to meet these other men and... what? See if any of them seem like a good match?” Alessia asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Oberon’s expression softened, and for a brief moment, the formality between them slipped. “You will not be forced into anything,” he said gently. “But it is important that you understand the options before you. This ball is not just about politics. It is about giving you the freedom to choose.”

Alessia nodded, though her mind was still racing. The ball was meant to be a political solution, but suddenly, it felt like much more than that.