The Dark Fairy King
Chapter 80: The Baltimorean Emerald

Chapter 80: The Baltimorean Emerald

I appeared back in the Love Fairy Kingdom.

Hoards of Love Fairies gathered around excitedly.

The golden board of achievers loomed in front of me, its polished surface gleaming like it held some sacred truth—a shrine to success and failure alike. The names etched in flawless script glistened under the soft palace light, each score a badge of honor worn by those who had mastered the kingdom’s shallow games.

Doverel had claimed the top spot again—450 couples in a single month. Of course she did. She was the shining star everyone wanted to follow, the darling of the kingdom’s broken system.

And me?

Dead last.

Not that it mattered.

Sure, the day was still young. I had hours left to rack up a few more names, to chase after scraps of recognition. But let’s be honest—no matter how many times I contorted myself to fit into their perfect little mold, I’d stay at the bottom. They didn’t want me. I didn’t want their approval.

And why should I care?

Their brand of romance was a hollow performance. A shallow dance of numbers and meaningless smiles.

So while the other Love Fairies flitted like frantic ants, chasing applause and climbing ladders of achievement, I did what I was always meant to do.

No more distractions. No more pretending.

It was time.

I went after what I truly needed: The Emerald.

The same one that Baltimore used to alter reality.

But I couldn’t just waltz in and snatch it openly. The kingdom was locked tight—every corner watched, every path guarded, every inch tangled in layers of enchanted protocol and ancient spells.

Patience. Precision. That was my way forward.

The power inside me swelled, bubbling beneath my skin like a storm gathering strength. I inhaled deeply, steadying the magic humming through my veins.

It was time to wield my kind of power.

Pheromones.

Perfect for Love Fairies. A subtle, insidious magic that only affected those bound by Love Magic—the delicate ecosystem of feelings, infatuation, and obedience that held us all together.

Some might call it manipulation.

I called it survival.

Yes, it was infectious. Yes, it could override free will—briefly.

But it faded. The spell lifted, leaving no trace.

They wouldn’t remember.

No harm done.

Besides... these would be my people one day. Whether they liked it or not.

I had no choice.

"What are you doing here, child? Only one couple so far?"

Arisa’s voice sliced through my thoughts like jagged glass.

I didn’t flinch.

Target acquired.

My eyes glowed crimson. A faint red mist curled from my palm.

I blew it softly toward her—a gentle, swirling breath that slid into her nostrils like a whisper.

She froze.

Her gaze glazed over. Her posture slackened. Her expression emptied, the light in her eyes extinguished like a candle snuffed out.

"Tell me where I can find the Emerald," I said softly, voice dripping with honey and steel.

She blinked slowly.

"I... I don’t know..."

A sharp grin tugged at my lips—knowing, cold.

"Then spread the word."

She nodded, dazed, and wandered off like a marionette with cut strings.

It was working.

I watched her approach a palace guard. The red mist slipped from her and brushed against him.

Then from him to another.

And another.

The pheromones spread like wildfire through the palace corridors, touching one mind after another in a seamless, silent cascade.

They never noticed.

And when the mist left each of them, they blinked—confused, dazed, as though waking from a dream they couldn’t quite place.

"Where was I going?" Arisa muttered aloud, standing back where she’d been moments ago, her brow furrowed.

"You were just nagging me to make more couples," I replied flatly, voice soaked with boredom. Message received.

She squinted at me, suspicion flickering in her eyes, but then scoffed and moved on.

I watched her go, expression unreadable.

Just then, one of the entranced guards approached. His eyes were vacant.

He wordlessly handed me a small velvet pouch, placing it in my hands.

Then he turned and walked away.

The mist slipped from his ear and vanished like smoke in sunlight.

"Where’s the score list again?" he asked suddenly, his voice airy, unaware of what he’d just done.

I pointed lazily toward the board behind me and walked away.

I opened the pouch and couldn’t stop the smile that rose to my lips.

There it was.

That faint, eerie green glow.

The Baltimorean Emerald.

I could hardly believe it.

It had worked.

The King of Baltimore’s greatest weapon—a stone said to shape reality itself—now rested in my palm.

The hum of its energy buzzed against my skin, ancient and undeniable. Like the echo of something alive, buried for centuries, now waking.

It slid beneath my skin like heat. Like hunger.

Was I mastering my powers this quickly?

Was everything I’d buried inside finally coming back?

I pressed the emerald close to my chest, feeling its pulse sync with my own.

Yes.

It was happening.

I am coming back.

Back in the shared dorm, I paced across the room, searching desperately for a way to hide the emerald.

I couldn’t leave it here. Too open. Too vulnerable.

It had to be with me—on me.

But nothing I owned could carry it. No pockets. No lockets. No place to tuck away something this dangerous.

Then my gaze shifted.

Edna’s side of the room.

She’d had the best view of the palace from her bed. Funny how a room could feel different from another angle. Maybe it had always been that way. Maybe I’d just never noticed.

No time for small epiphanies.

It was almost 4 p.m.

Everyone would be heading to see King Baltimore now, reporting their final couple count.

Not that it mattered to me.

But if I didn’t show up, I’d draw suspicion.

I needed to think fast.

The emerald had to stay hidden.

On me.

Then—there. Draped across Edna’s bed, a belt.

And under her pillow... the edge of a black stone.

I stepped closer. The rock was shaped like a knife—sharp, narrow. Probably something she used on long hunts. I remembered her stories: sleeping under trees, slicing fruit, bathing in freezing rivers.

I looked down at the emerald.

Narrow at the top. Broad in the middle. Pointed.

Perfect fit.

I slid the black rock out and nestled the emerald against it. The shape was perfect—snug, sharp, seamless.

This wasn’t a disguise. This was survival.

Edna would’ve understood that.

I wasn’t looking for style. I needed to vanish in plain sight.

If the King found out I had it...

I was completely alone.

Just then, I saw her through Edna’s window.

Doverel. Walking back toward the dorms.

Why? Wasn’t she due at the palace?

She wouldn’t come back for me. Not out of concern.

Only if she thought I could ruin her perfect little title.

I didn’t trust her. I couldn’t.

Then came her voice.

"Scarlette... I just knew you would be here."

I froze.

Without thinking, I shoved the black stone under Edna’s pillow and tied the belt around my waist. The emerald was hidden beneath my dress.

She stood in the doorway, eyes sharp, smile curved in amusement.

"Scavenging her wardrobe already?"

I said nothing.

"Come on. Don’t hold everyone back, Scarlette." Her tone was syrupy. "Not the time to play dress-up."

I tightened the belt, fingers fumbling. Glanced at the mirror.

A little crooked. But it would do.

Her voice drifted again.

"Your red dress goes perfectly with Edna’s black belt."

It was the first time she’d spoken to me in weeks.

And somehow, those words stung the most.

But I followed her out.

Not because I trusted her.

But because I had no choice.

The emerald was hidden.

My face was calm.

And whatever came next—

I’d be ready.