“What just happened?” Prince Mel asked, eyes fixed on his father.

  The young prince was wearing an unbuttoned, white tunic and black trousers.

  After Shioban’s departure, the room became as quiet as a library.

  Mel walked to where his father was standing. The king had an arm wrapped around Lady Cara, whose eyes were wide and unblinking.

  “Was that Shioban?” The prince asked.

  Mel looked behind his father. “And why is Aunt Yolana crying in a chair?”

  The prince stepped around his father and walked towards Yolana. He crouched down next to his aunt and gently took her hands into his. “Aunt Yolana, are you ok?”

  “For a day, I am Death. For a day, I am Death.” She repeated to herself, eyes closed.

  Ever since the Hallow War, Yolana had been mentally compromised. In the Battle of Winter, the youngest princess was kidnapped by Shioban’s forces and tortured by the Isle Queen for eleven days.

  Mel looked over his shoulder. “Did Shioban trigger this?”

  “Take her back to her quarters.” Stefan responded instead.

  “Father….”

  Stefan raised a hand. “Now.”

  Mel’s lips pursed into a thin line.

  “Please.” Stefan pleaded, a rare case of begging from the immortal king.

  Mel threw a glare at his father before wrapping an arm around Yolana’s waist and helping her out of the room.

  Once they were gone, Stefan turned his gaze upon the group of ladies still standing near the doorway.

  Princess Paloma, in an elegant red gown with gold lining, nervously chewed on her bottom lip. Next to her, Lady Violet was playing with a rose she grew out of her hand. Corrine and Princess Lyn watched with curious eyes.

  To the right of them, Olara and Dara were quietly bickering.

  “Mother needs to know.” Cara managed to hear from Olara before Stefan spoke up.

  “Ladies, I’m sorry for the spectacle.” He began, eyes scanning each and every one of them.

  The twins quickly shut their mouths.

  “We’ll send someone when dinner’s ready. May you take a visit to the courtyard?”

  The ladies lowered their heads, bowed gracefully, and exited the room.

  Corrine was the last to leave.

  Before she closed the door behind her, she made eye contact with the king and said,

  “That was not me nor a conjuring.”

  The king nodded. “Thank you, Corrine.”

  Corrine softly closed the door behind her.

  “What was that?” Cara growled, as soon as they were left alone. The lady’s heart was hammering.

  Stefan slowly gripped Cara’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  Cara stepped out of his touch. “She had her hand around my throat, Stefan. No, I'm not okay.”

  Cara’s breathing became rapid and shallow.

  Stefan pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay.”

  Cara melted into his touch this time, and rested her head against his firm chest.

  As they stood wrapped in each other's arms, the king began rubbing tiny circles on her back.

  With a single touch, he slowed the beat of her heart and breathing.

  The rush and anxiety pumping through her body slowly wore off.

  Cara leaned back and lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes. “Thank you.”

  Her eyes were still glassy, but her cheeks were no longer flushed.

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  “She denied being Azeri, Stefan.”

  The king nodded.

  “Or did she say that because we weren’t alone?”

  The king shrugged.

  “Corrine said it wasn’t a Conjuring.”

  The king nodded.

  “Stefan.” Cara snapped, before playfully jabbing him into his chest with a finger. “Why are you being so calm about this? Whoever that was is coming back for me.”

  Stefan dropped his arms and stepped backwards.

  Cara frowned. “What?”

  “We both know where we have to go. I knew it as soon as Shioban, or whoever that was, had that knife against your throat yet you haven't uttered her name.”

  Cara folded her arms across her chest. “Is it necessary?”

  “She poisoned your brother, took away his ability to feel. Your anger is understandable, but she’s the only being who has the answer we need.”

  “I’m not going with you.” Cara retorted quickly.

  A grin slowly crept across Stefan’s face. “Yes, you are.”

  The side door suddenly swung open.

  “Father!” Prince Mel shouted, door slamming behind him. “Was that really Shioban?”

  The king nodded.

  “Aunt Yolana says she was in her quarters. How could you let that happen?”

  “He didn’t know, Mel.” Cara answered softly. “We just returned from the Dreamworld.”

  “Where were her guards?” Mel shouted, ignoring Cara.

  Stefan raised a hand, motioning for his son to sit.

  “How would you like to go on a trip?” Stefan asked instead.

  Mel frowned. “To the Isle?”

  Stefan shook his head. “Not tonight.”

  “Where?”

  Stefan held out both of his hands. “Tonight, we’re going to see a snake woman.”

  ***

  The fruitful, small land of Vanaeia sat between Gardenia and Port Tula. There, the night air smelled of salt and sea. Of oranges and nectarines.

  Stefan shimmered himself, his son, and Lady Cara just on the edge of Vanaeia. They landed gracefully near a bed of hydrangeas, where a woman could be seen picking oranges off an incandescent tree and dropping them into a large basket propped on her right hip.

  Instead of making their presence immediately known, the three watched the woman in silence, waiting to see whether she would morph into her other form. But as they waited, unbeknownst to them, the woman grew agitated.

  “Are you just going to stand there?” She said into the silence, gazing up at the tree before her.

  Cara’s grip tightened around Stefan’s right hand.

  “Manar.” Stefan responded loudly.

  “That is me, unfortunately.” She mumbled, before placing her basket on the grass. Manar was wearing a pink colored high collar tunic and white skirt. The skirt stopped just short of her knees, revealing one of the many scars from the snake bites she received during bonding time in the wee hours of the morning.

  Stefan stepped forward. "We seek answers.”

  Manar turned around, greeted her visitors with a wide smile.

  Cara quickly averted her gaze.

  Manar chuckled to herself. “Answers?”

  Stefan nodded. “Only you can answer, only the Guardian of Vanar can seek.”

  Manar began walking towards them on a stone path, while twirling a loose hair strand between her fingertips.

  “I’m going to assume she finally graced you with her presence.”

  “She?” Mel asked, stepping forward, meeting her halfway.

  “Shioban.” Manar responded, now face to face with the prince.

  Stefan’s face hardened. "Has Shioban been here?"

  “Of course not.”

  “May we speak to Vanar? It’s urgent.” Mel asked softly.

  He would never admit it to anyone else, but something about Manar always intrigued him.

  “He’s sleeping.”

  Stefan let go of Cara’s hand to join Mel and Manar. “It’s urgent.”

  Manar looked over Stefan’s left shoulder to where Cara was still standing, now alone. “Is she not going to apologize for her brother’s behavior?”

  Cara whipped her head around, long locks flying over her shoulder. “You poisoned my brother. If anything, I am owed an apology.”

  “Your brother held a knife to my throat while I slept.” Manar spat back.

  “That's what you say.” Cara mumbled, preceded by an eye roll.

  Manar made a move forward, but Stefan quickly stepped in her view. “How did you know about Shioban?”

  “Emmar.” Manar answered, still staring at Cara.

  Her jaw was clenched and hands balled into fists.

  “What did she want?”

  “Sharra needed something.” Manar turned her gaze back to Stefan. “The same thing you want…..answers.”

  Manar took a step back and smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt.

  “Can you just tell us what happened?” Mel pleaded, gaze softened.

  Manar turned around and made her way towards a nearby bench.

  “Pariesa Emmar arrived here are the request of Sharra days ago.” Manar began, a leg crossed over the other. “She said Shioban appeared out of nowhere, confused and dazed. Emmar was sent here to see if she is a Spirit or a trick.”

  “And?”

  Before Manar could answer, a hissing sound could be heard. Cara and Mel’s eyes both darted to the ground beneath them. As seconds passed, the sound quickly grew louder. “Is it him?” Cara whispered, arms wrapped around her body.

  Manar shook her head. “Like I said, Vanar’s sleeping.”

  After a long moment, the hissing faded.

  “May I keep going?” Manar asked into the silence.

  “Please.” Stefan answered sternly, jaw clenched.

  “Sharra sent Emmar here to ask other questions too.” Manar began again. “What really happens when you die? Could Shioban have escaped?”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Unfortunately, Vanar was doing the answering in her presence.” Manar snarked.

  “Well, what did Vanar say?”

  “I told her…” Manar suddenly stood. “That the Shioban that has been making her way around has to be who she says she is.”

  “A spirit?” Stefan asked for clarification.

  Manar snapped her fingers. “Now, I did not say that.”

  In a blink, Stefan was suddenly face to face with Manar. “What are you talking about?”

  A sly smirk pulled at the corners of Manar’s mouth. “What I exactly said. It’s impossible for Shioban to be an escaped Spirit from Gardenia.”

  “What do you mean?” Cara asked, voice shaking. “She had some magic. Isn’t it true that spirits can use the magic from the Eternal Gardens in Gardenia to escape?”

  “Magic flows freely in Gardenia, yes. I have seen it with my own eyes. However, she’s still not a spirit.”

  “Why do you say that?” Stefan asked.

  “Every being that dies meets Vanar. There’s no way around it. He is King of Gardenia, the Gateway to Everlife, Rebirth, and Gardenia.”

  “And?” Mel piped up, still confused.

  “Vanar has never laid eyes on Shioban.” She revealed slowly, followed by a grin.

  Stefan stumbled backwards. “No…..”

  “What is it, father?.

  Stefan gasped again, eyes fixed on Manar. “Tell me this is a lie.”

  Manar raised her hands. “I’m sorry but Truth does not live here.”

  “Father, what is it?” Mel asked again.

  “Shioban never died.” He said slowly.