The Dark Fairy King
Chapter 39: The Search and The Script

Chapter 39: The Search and The Script

But now, I can’t squeeze any more answers from him.

"Infuriating. How convenient. Gone just like that." I growled under my breath.

Juniper sniffed curiously at the red dust that remained of Richard. She sneezed, then hopped backward, hiding behind Scarlette’s dress.

I glanced at Scarlette again. She was trembling, tears pooling in her eyes. That was my cue—it was time to clear the room. Fast.

Turning to the Fairy Guards—still frozen from what they had witnessed—I barked, "Scour every inch of this land. Find anyone marked with the broken wand tattoo on their wrist. Bring them to me. Be discreet."

They began to stir.

"And if you find any trace of the Midnight Orchid—anything—report it immediately. Do not touch the flower."

Their armor clinked as they scrambled out of the dungeon, the sound echoing off the stone.

Scarlette remained rooted in place, staring at her shaking hands.

"I did this..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted the truth. I was only using persuasion magic..."

She faltered. "The prophecy—"

I stepped forward and gently caught her hands. "You didn’t kill Richard."

Her eyes searched mine, frantic. I tightened my grip.

"It was that cursed tattoo—the mark of the Anti-Magic Mages. That blue light... it wasn’t you."

Tears welled up, her voice barely audible. "In the old world, I grew numb to death. I fought and killed monarchs, soldiers—anyone who stood in my way. And now here I am, the same woman who left it all behind, back at it again."

She looked away. "Is there any redemption left for me? After all that bloodshed?"

"Scar..." I whispered, pulling her closer. "You’re still the woman I fell in love with. Not in spite of your imperfections—but because of them."

She hesitated.

"Your kindness. Your instincts. Your calm and chaos. Even your darkest parts—they don’t scare me. They drew me to you."

Our eyes locked. Her breath caught.

"You didn’t kill him. The Anti-Mages did."

Finally, she nodded slowly. Then she closed her eyes, resting her forehead against mine.

"I don’t think I’d know what to do without you, Ver." She whispered softly.

"And you’ll never have to," I replied steadily.

She opened her eyes again, but worry lingered in their depths. "The prophecy..."

"The prophecy can screw itself," I muttered, clenching my fists. "We stood against monarchs in the old world and tore them down one by one."

She smiled weakly. "Yeah, we did... but this is bigger than us."

"So what?" I challenged. "Do they get a free pass, then?"

She paused.

"The Anti-Magic Mages and their foolish ideals? Let them come." My voice deepened. "They want to remove threats in the magical world?"

I scoffed. "Newsflash. There will always be a threat. And a harbinger of doom?"

"If they want one so badly, I’ll be it," I said furiously.

I took a step forward.

"I’ll show them what it’s like to be a mage without magic. I’ll break their wands like I’ll shatter those pretentious tattoos. Let them chase their prophecy about the fruit of a forbidden romance—"

I scoffed. "I’ll give them a run for their money. Ludicrous, pompous, deluded imbeciles."

I raised my hands in the air like an angry bear.

Scarlette’s eyes softened, and she laughed—a low, beautiful sound.

"You should look at yourself and hear your own silly dramatic commentary. You are a rebel, you know that?"

I smirked, noticing she was feeling better. But that did not save her from my usual witty comebacks.

"And you’re worse." I grinned. "I might be your bad boy Dark Fairy King, but I’m nothing compared to what you’re capable of, dear mistress of chaos."

She smiled, for real this time.

"I am not going to lose control of my powers just because I am sad." She playfully rolled her eyes.

But then her voice dropped. "Nathaniel. That’s the name Richard gave. Where is he now? What’s his next move?"

"We’ll find him." I folded my arms. "We always do."

Juniper padded over and placed a small object by my foot. A pen. And a piece of rolled parchment.

I arched an eyebrow. "What are you trying to tell me, Juniper?"

She blinked slowly and purred.

"Are you asking him to do a speech?" Scarlette teased.

Juniper skipped delightedly in place.

Come to think of it, that was a good idea.

"Juniper, you brilliant fox," I said, ruffling her head with exaggerated strokes.

She leapt onto my shoulder, brushing her fur against my face with a satisfied purr. Then, she jumped down and trotted to the dungeon door, nudging it repeatedly with her snout.

And of course, I got the message.

"Don’t be such a slave driver, Juniper. I got it the first time..." I grumbled, though I was already walking.

Scarlette chuckled softly, following close behind.

It had truly been a long and intense day—but we were far from done.

Juniper, that meddling critter, had hinted that we write a script for a speech.

And so, a speech we shall do.

A message to the kingdom: Peace is precious. Vigilance is necessary.

The Midnight Orchid. The Anti-Magic Mages.

Two threats rising simultaneously.

Why now? Are they connected?

Wasn’t peace enough?

My mind swirled with questions, weighed down by burdens I couldn’t yet name.

Nathaniel.

The name Richard gave us in his final moments still lingered like a shadow.

How dangerous could he truly be?

I laughed at the prophecy. Mocked the Anti-Magic Mages.

But did I underestimate just how serious things have become?

Scarlette and I now found ourselves in the study—a quiet room beside the library, anchored by a large mahogany table and bathed in warm lamplight.

Evening sunlight streamed through the windows, chasing shadows from every corner.

I sat at the table, pen in hand, scribbling.

Scarlette perched beside me, legs dangling off the edge, watching me write.

Her gaze followed each swirl of ink, each letter carved in silence.

At least she no longer looked so burdened. Not like before. Now, a picture of calm rested on her face.

"It should be a warning," she said quietly.

"A call to vigilance. An encouragement to accept differences... and to treasure peaceful times."

She stared out the window, eyes soft with a hope I wasn’t sure I could bear.

"Hey, it’s my speech," I muttered. "Don’t dictate what I write. This isn’t homework. There’s no correct answer."

I half-covered the page with my hand.

Scarlette shoved it aside playfully and caught a glimpse.

She saw what I wrote.

"Dear Peasants, sit down and listen..."

Her jaw dropped.

Then a laugh—short and loud.

"Are you seriously writing that?" she asked, half-laughing, half-scandalized.

"Trust the process," I muttered, smirking.

"But... you can’t say that. Not like that. What will the citizens think?"

She raised her eyebrows like I’d just committed treason with a pen.

"Don’t you know?" I said dryly. "Good things come to those who wait."

Scarlette rolled her eyes. Hard.

Just as she began to lean back—clearly seconds from dozing off—I cleared my throat dramatically and bellowed:

"Citizens of the United Fairy Kingdom!"

She jumped, startled, and swatted my arm.

"Alright, that’s enough! You’re done," she said in mock-annoyance.

"Let me see it."

Then she laughed again. A real one this time.

"Was it that bad? Or was I just that charismatic?" I asked, halfway serious.

She didn’t answer. Just shook her head, that smile still lingering at the corners of her mouth.

A non-answer. Oh well...

In truth, I would do anything—anything—to make her forget the horrors of earlier. Even just for a moment.

"Write a better one, then. I dare you," I said, sliding over a fresh piece of parchment.

Her eyes lit up with that stubborn fire I knew too well.

Scarlette grabbed a pen, her expression sharpening into focus.

The evening sun touched her cheeks with gold, making her crimson hair burn like flame.

Her eyes, always so vivid, sparkled like bright olive emeralds—alive and fierce.

And it reinforced everything I already knew:

I would do anything for her.