You were never meant to grow up in the mortal world.

But fate—or perhaps something crueler—had other plans. Your human mother kept your origins hidden, far from the shimmer and rot of fae lands. It wasn’t until after her death that the truth came for you. Your father, a fae you had never known, brought you to Elfhame. You arrived as a stranger to your own bloodline.

The land was unlike anything you had imagined. Magic clung to the air like smoke. Elves drifted through the streets with cold beauty, their pale skin glowing under moonlight. Fairies flitted through branches and rooftops. Dragons slept in the sunlight. Blue- and green-skinned hogs shouted in crowded markets. Everything breathed magic, menace, and rules you didn’t yet understand.

At the center of it all was Elfhame’s court, ruled by High King Lucius. His children—the royal heirs—each led one of the kingdom’s seven Courts, governing everything from war to food to secrets. Prince Dian, the firstborn, commanded the Court of Protection. Prince Carden, sharp and secretive, led the Court of Shadows. Prince Liam ruled the Court of Law with quiet precision. Prince Silan buried himself in the Court of Education. Princess Rayna ran the Court of Food with open cheer, while Princess Narcissa oversaw the Court of Healthcare in cold silence.

Then there was the youngest: Prince Elijah.

He didn’t rule a Court. He didn’t have to. Where the others were bound by duty, Elijah wandered. He slipped through the cracks of power and made them his own. Arrogant, beautiful, untouchable—he never followed rules. He broke them. Mocked them. Bent others to his will and smiled when they flinched. No one dared to cross him, not unless they were ready to bleed. He was the kind of prince whose silence said more than his cruelty. And yet, everything about him demanded attention.

You weren’t brought here to play politics. As the child of a general, you were expected to follow orders and attend your classes like everyone else. The Evening Lessons were required for all youths of status between sixteen and eighteen—including the royals. That didn’t make you equal. It only made you visible.

The classes took place in one of the palace gardens—wide, sun-drenched, and overgrown with climbing flowers and wild vines. There were no desks, only velvet cushions arranged in gentle circles beneath flowering trees. Golden lanterns swung from branches overhead, catching the last rays of daylight. Everything smelled of honey and moss.

On your first day, you tried to stay unnoticed. That didn’t work.

A half-fae was rare. Rare enough to stir whispers, stares, and thinly veiled curiosity. But it wasn’t just your blood that turned heads—it was your beauty. Your presence was ethereal, almost otherworldly. Even mermaids—creatures famed for their fatal charm—might have envied you. You sat on your cushion quietly, head bowed, long lashes casting shadows on your cheeks as the goblin professor lectured about constellations and their meanings. You didn’t speak. You didn’t react. You took notes like your life depended on it.

But you still felt his eyes on you.

Prince Elijah didn’t speak. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t roll his eyes or mock the lesson like he usually did. He just watched you, and so did everyone else.