LXXXVIII
Callum's tone was light, amused even, but you could see the calculation behind his eyes. He was already replaying the scene, weighing its political fallout, deciding whether it was a disaster or merely a story to laugh about later.
"Well, that was an unexpected spectacle," he quipped, hands clasped behind his back like he was observing a circus act rather than his son's near‑fiancée being scared out of her jeweled shoes.
Lorian's mother, however, looked as though she'd bitten into a lemon.
Her lips pinched. Her entire posture radiated disapproval so intense it could have curdled milk.
"It was entirely unnecessary," she said sharply. "You've frightened everyone here, young lady."
Her gaze swept over you like a cold draft. Her eyes were not cruel, but dismissive, irritated, offended that you had disrupted the carefully curated social order she'd spent years maintaining. A demon at a ball was one thing; a demon showing teeth was quite another.
Before I could respond, Lorian stepped in, voice firm, protective.
"I'm sure it was just a little fun, Mother."
He didn't raise his voice, but the emphasis was unmistakable. He stood slightly in front of you, shoulders squared, making it clear he wasn't going to let her scold you unchecked.
"And besides," he added, "Eveline nearly asked for it, flirting with a demon like that."
Callum snorted under his breath, trying not to laugh. Lorian's mother looked scandalized.
Eveline‑Claire, somewhere behind the crowd, was probably still recovering her pulse.
I could feel the hat‑man's residual energy humming faintly in your veins, not dangerous, just present, like a shadow leaning over your shoulder. It made your eyes sharp, your presence heavier, and the council's earlier panic suddenly made sense.
And now, with Lorian defending you and the nobles whispering, they remembered the danger I held.
Lorian glanced at me, his expression softening.
"You okay?" he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. I nodded resolutely.
The hat‑man, tucked against my side in his tiny cat form, flicked his tail smugly.
The ballroom was still buzzing, fear, awe, gossip, and admiration. In that moment, with Lorian's parents watching and the nobles whispering, I stood steady.
The shift in atmosphere was immediate. The kind that makes the skin prickle before anyone speaks. Four council members approached, their expressions composed but unmistakably intent, and the crowd parted for them as if guided by instinct. Callum straightened beside Lorian, surprised but not alarmed; he knew what it meant when five council members gathered, and he knew it wasn't done lightly.
Lorian's mother stiffened, her disapproval momentarily eclipsed by uncertainty. Even she understood the weight of this.
They ushered the four of us. Me, Lorian, his mother, and his father into a side room lined with dark wood and velvet drapes. The door closed behind us with a soft click that felt louder than it should have.
Five members. Enough to change laws and alter fates.
Enough to decide what was allowed to exist within Fairy's borders.
The air in the room hummed with authority.
The Spanish councilwoman, the one who had spoken to me before, the one with warm eyes and a diplomat's grace, stepped forward first. Her presence softened the tension just a little. She touched your shoulder gently, her smile small but sincere, a greeting meant to reassure rather than intimidate.
"Hola, querida," she murmured, her voice low and warm. "It's good to see you again."
Her touch grounded you. Her smile told you she wasn't here to condemn.
Her presence told you this wasn't a punishment.
But the others?
Their faces were more guarded.
One adjusted his cuffs. Another cleared his throat.
A third glanced at the cat in your arms, still recovering, with a mixture of awe and caution.
Callum's brows knit. Lorian's mother looked ready to faint.
Lorian stepped closer to me, protective without making a scene.
The Spanish councilwoman's hand lingered on my shoulder, gaze steady.
"Let's talk," she said softly. "There are things we must address."
And the room felt suddenly smaller, quieter, charged with the weight of whatever was about to be decided.
They looked at me with distance, regret, and decision. The head council member, the old man who had yelled out earlier.
"You must understand that being in a relationship with the son of a council member means that member would wield and inordinate amount of power. Majorities in decisions would eventually slide toward Callum due to his son's access to you and your charge." He inhaled arrogantly. "Our council has decided that either Callum ceases his romantic relationship with you, or you will be detained indefinitely with that demon. We cannot destroy you, for you hold him in in check, be we can hold you. You are merely human."
Either I cut off my relationship with Lorian, or I get to be held in a cage of their making. Ridiculous.
The moment the door shut, the air changed.
Not hostile, final.
The kind of atmosphere that comes when people have already made up their minds and are only here to inform you of the consequences.
They looked at you with distance, regret, and the cold weight of decision.
The head council member, his voice was steady, but his eyes carried the fear he wouldn't admit.
His words hit like a slap.
Either I cut off the relationship with Lorian, sever it cleanly, publicly, permanently,
or they cage me. Lock me away with the hat‑man. Indefinitely.
No trial, no appeal, just taking away my freedom.
Cruel, and terrifyingly bureaucratic.
And the hat‑man, tiny and trembling in my arms, let out a soft, furious growl, a sound no ordinary cat could make.
The council had forgotten me once. They would not forget me now.
What I chose next would change everything.
My fury didn't explode, it focused.
Sharp. Controlled. Deadly in its precision.
The council members felt it before you even spoke. Their posture shifted, their expressions tightened, and even the Spanish councilwoman's hand on your shoulder stilled, sensing the change in the air.
You lifted your chin, voice steady.
"You forget, members of the council. I am not European. I am not part of the Fairy."
A few of them flinched, not at the words, but at the tone. You weren't pleading. You weren't negotiating. You were correcting them.
"I partnered with you for the good of the world, not for politics."
Callum's eyes widened slightly.
Lorian's mother looked scandalized.
Lorian looked at you like you were the only solid thing in the room.
"I do not acknowledge your authority over my personal relationships."
The old man's mouth tightened. He wasn't used to being told no, especially not by someone he'd just called "merely human."
"Fine," you continued, "Lorian can decide if he wants to still be with me or obey the council. That's his right as one of your citizens."
My voice didn't waver. "I am not one of your citizens. I make my own decisions."
The room shifted. The air thickened.
A warm, rising power built inside me the mirror's echo, the hat‑man's energy bleeding back into your veins, the ancient force you carried humming awake. Someone touched by the other powers in the universe, cannot be unchanged by it.
It flashed behind my eyes.
The old man stepped back.
Another council member swallowed hard.
Even Callum's expression flickered with something like awe.
You took one step forward.
"Forcing me into a cage?" I said softly.
The hat‑man, trembling in your arms, let out a low, furious rumble. It was not a cat's sound, but something older, deeper.
I didn't raise your voice. It was almost a whisper, but everyone could hear.
"Try it," you said, "and see if anyone survives to enforce your so‑called authority."