The Dark Fairy King
Chapter 40: The Petal

Chapter 40: The Petal

As the sun dipped behind the horizon, Scarlette and I sat in quiet companionship, watching the sky bleed into hues of rose and amber.

Warm mulled wine rested in our hands—served in delicate gold cups etched with intricate vinework.

"That should take the edge off," Scarlette murmured, her eyes still fixed on the fading light.

"What a stressful day."

"At least we were productive," I replied with a shrug.

She smiled—faint, tired, but real.

Then came the sound of hurried footsteps—leather slapping against polished floors, echoing like a warning drumbeat.

A guard burst into the study, panting, two others trailing behind. His face was flushed; his breaths came in short, panicked gasps.

"Your Majesties," he bowed deeply—

...then stuttered. The words wouldn’t come.

"Drop the formalities. Speak," I ordered, cutting through the tension that thickened the air. There was no time for curtseys or bows.

"Something’s happened to Elder Clarice," he finally managed. "You need to see it. There’s... a pool of blood in her bedroom at home. We fear she’s been attacked."

Scarlette turned pale—white as a sheet. Her whisky nearly slipped from her fingers.

"What else have you found?" I asked, though a shadow of dread had already begun to settle in my chest.

Pool of blood? Very signature of the Midnight Orchid.

That pool of blood might be all that’s left of Clarice.

"A red petal, Your Majesty," the guard replied. "But as instructed, we did not touch it. It could be the Midnight Orchid, as you had warned."

I nodded. It was all I needed to know.

Clarice had been important to us—a pillar of light in a sometimes-shadowed council. She was part of the representative body we’d built—one elder from each fairy faction.

Clarice, the Light Fairy Elder, had always been honest. Loyal. Kind.

She didn’t make enemies. Not easily.

But she stood up for the truth. Always.

That’s what I liked about her.

But why target her? Why now?

Did she offend someone? Or uncover something she shouldn’t have?

"Do you want to see it yourself?" the guard asked, awaiting my command.

I paused, still staring at him, deep in thought. But Scarlette was already impatient.

"Stop staring into space. Let’s go," Scarlette said, gripping my arm and pulling me up.

"Wait... what about the other two fairy elders?" I asked.

"Safe, Your Majesty. Faragonda—the Love Fairy Elder—and Devyn, the Dark Fairy Elder—are still here in the palace. Clarice never showed up for today’s council meeting; that’s why we—"

"Keep watch on them. Don’t let them leave. I can’t risk another attack. Inform them both to stay put," I ordered.

I turned to the first guard. "You—do you know the way?"

"Yes, sir."

"The rest of you," I addressed the others, "continue searching for signs of Broken Wand tattoos or any use of the Midnight Orchid. Quietly. I’ll take this one with me."

"Ver... can we go now?" Scarlette asked, voice tight. I nodded.

Then, Juniper popped into view—tail wagging, tongue out, ready for orders.

"Juni... please look after the palace while we’re out," Scarlette said gently.

Juniper gave a reluctant huff.

"Fine," I sighed, tossing her a piece of chicken. The fox leapt into the air—nine tails swirling in perfect control—landing soundlessly with the chicken clenched between her teeth.

"Bribery," I teased, winking at Scarlette.

"Always works," she replied, completing my sentence and mimicking my tone—gruff and dramatic.

"I do not sound like that," I grumbled.

She ignored me.

Then, glancing at Juniper still munching on the treat, I added, "Run along, foxy. Guard the palace. Daddy’s got work to do."

She tilted her head once, then trotted off with dignified purpose.

Scarlette, the guard, and I stepped into the red mist that began swirling into the room. The palace faded from view, and all we saw was a crimson haze.

Then the fog slowly thinned, and we were inside Clarice’s home.

I hadn’t been here personally, but it had to be. It was just as the other fairy elders had described in whispered gossip.

Orderly. With baking utensils arranged according to size.

Every piece of furniture is colour-coded in gentle gradients of yellow.

It matched what they’d said about Clarice and her obsession with structure.

But something felt... off.

Not haunted—just hushed.

Like something had screamed recently and now pretended it hadn’t.

I imagined the air had once smelled of clove oil and cherry bread.

Now, it reeked of rust and wilted thyme.

We moved on.

The kitchen—untouched.

The hallway—silent.

But the bedroom...

The silence there screamed.

Scarlette froze in the doorway. "Ver..."

I stepped beside her.

Everything was pristine.

Too pristine.

The bed was made. Candles stood unlit. No dust disturbed.

It looked like a stage—carefully set after the curtain had already fallen.

In the center of the pillow lay a single red petal.

Just like the guard had warned us.

"This is the red petal we saw earlier, Your Majesty," he said.

I threw an arm across Scarlette, stopping her just as she reached for it instinctively.

"Stop. Midnight Orchid," I warned, pulling her back.

Her face pressed against my chest. Her breath caught.

"What? We’re man and wife," I said with a hint of protest—then remembered the guard was still with us.

Scarlette awkwardly stepped away.

"Why bother tidying up the place and leaving one petal behind?" I asked the guard. "Is the murderer really that careless?"

The guard stared at me blankly. But how was he supposed to know?

"Magic was definitely used in the other rooms..." Scarlette replied, raising her hand, allowing the red mists to flow around the place. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds.

"Love magic," she said. "To do chores for a tired loved one."

"So another Love Fairy must be involved then," I replied.

"What about Richard?" Scarlette asked.

"Impossible. He was with us for more than a few hours. He wouldn’t be able to do this in time. Someone else is involved," I replied, stroking my chin.

I turned to the guard again.

"Remind me, when did you see this?" I asked.

"Half an hour ago. But... the pool of blood—it’s gone now," he replied, pointing to the space beneath the bed. "That’s the fastest it takes to fly to the palace. We can’t materialise like you, Your Majesties. Flying is the fastest we manage—"

I cut him off. No need to state the obvious.

"Yes. Five hours to steep the poison. Half an hour for the blood to evaporate. Which means that the attack must have happened two hours after noon," I said.

"Indeed, Richard was already locked in the dungeon then," Scarlette agreed.

"Any other witnesses?" I asked.

"Not that I know of, Your Majesty."

Then we heard it.

A faint whisper.

"Help me..."

Scarlette stiffened, goosebumps rising on her arms.

"Check the room," I ordered the guard.

He tiptoed toward the sound, cautious.

But I was already ahead of him.

I forced the door open.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next.

Writhing on the floor in pain, a familiar Light Fairy called out to us.

"Save me."

Lumera.

Yes, that Lumera—who once hosted us in the old world.

The one we saved from a vampire.

The one Judorah killed and wore like a second skin.

That Lumera.

Flashes of memories appeared in my mind as I saw her face.

Then I instinctively turned to Scarlette, meeting her gaze. No words were needed between us. She knew what I felt. Yes, neither Scarlette nor I expected to encounter her again. Not like this.

Of course, Lumera was a citizen in the new world we created—one where Judorah never existed.

Here, Lumera was very much alive—even if she had no memory of the world we came from.

And if she was truly at the brink of death...

We would not fail her twice.

"Midnight Orchid," she gurgled, as her skin turned purple.

"Veravos... The stalk!" Scarlette yelled, voice cracking.

I pressed the stalk against her wound. The toxins began to fade—but slowly.

"No! We are not going to lose you again!" Scarlette cried.

"Boil water," I ordered the guard. He bolted for the kitchen.

But before it finished boiling, I steeped the stalk in the pot and poured the liquid into Lumera’s mouth.

Yes, it works most effectively as a tea.

"Oh my gods, Veravos... You’re going to scald her!" Scarlette panicked.

"Heal her with your magic while I do this, Scar. We need to act fast—before she turns into a pool of blood."

She didn’t need to be told twice.

Then, as if by miracle—

Lumera coughed. Sat up.

The purple faded from her veins.

Color returned to her cheeks, like paint reapplying itself to a ruined canvas.

She looked between us with dazed, bewildered eyes—then, suddenly, rose and bowed.

"Your Majesties," Lumera said, voice trembling, gaze glued to the floor.

She didn’t dare lift her head.

Then she fainted, face flat to the floor.

Scarlette’s eyes flicked to me. "Did she just bow?"

I nodded slowly. "And now she’s unconscious."

"Carry her back to the palace," I told the guard, who nodded and lifted her gently.

Scarlette summoned the red mist again.

The red mist wrapped around us in silence, and together, we vanished—leaving Clarice’s empty home behind.