If anyone had told me being a princess meant sitting still, smiling sweetly, and sipping dewdrop tea with old council members who smelled like boredom, I would have politely declined the crown and run for the hills. Or in this case, behind the Volcamore tree.
I pressed my back against its glowing bark, careful not to disturb the sparkling leaves above me. The Volcamore wasn't just any tree, it hummed when touched and shed shimmering petals that made your hair glow for hours. Magical, yes. Subtle? Not at all. But it was the only place big enough to hide from Riona and ridiculous enough that she'd never expect me to be here.
"Azura!" Riona's voice floated through the air again, growing more desperate. "Your Highness, this isn't funny anymore!"
Oh, but it was.
I clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. Poor Riona. She was probably red in the face by now, adjusting her perfectly knotted head wrap for the hundredth time and pacing like her life depended on it. Which, in fairness, it might. The last time I ran off, she cried in front of the palace guards. Twice. And my uncle tried to offer her a calming elixir, but she screamed because it turned her tongue blue.
Footsteps. Close ones.
I froze, barely breathing.
"Found you," a soft, knowing voice said.
My heart leapt and then melted instantly. It wasn't Riona. It was her.
"Mama!" I squealed as I was scooped into a warm, familiar embrace. Queen Kayla, High Sovereign of the Sky Kingdom, holder of wisdom, light of our people… and my favorite person in the world.
She smiled down at me, her golden eyes soft with amusement. "You've been causing trouble again, little star?"
I beamed. "Only small trouble."
She raised a brow. "Small trouble usually ends with someone weeping into their lunch tray."
"Not this time," I said quickly. "Riona's just… slightly panicking. It keeps her alert."
Mama laughed, that graceful, bell-like laugh that always made me feel like everything in the world was right.
"Azura," she said, brushing a strand of my silvery hair behind my ear, "why do you run from your duties?"
"Because my duties are boring," I said honestly. "And I wanted to watch the cloudfish today. They were dancing."
"Were they?"
"Yes! They did this I wriggled in her arms, trying to demonstrate a wobbly fish dance, which earned another chuckle from her.
But our moment didn't last long.
A sharp voice sliced through the peace like a dagger through mist.
"Oh, for the love of the stars! Again, Azura? Must you always behave like a moon spoiled brat?"
I stiffened.
Here we go.
Liva my mother's twin and my personal nightmare stormed toward us, her crimson cloak swirling behind her.
Her silver hair was pulled into a tight knot, her lips pursed like she'd sucked on a sour starfruit.
"Kayla, you cuddle her," Liva snapped. "She's a hundred years old. She should be preparing for council observation, not hiding in trees like a wildling!"
I was still nestled in Mama's arms, blinking up at Liva with the innocent look I'd perfected since I was about eigthy.
"She's just a child," Mama said, voice calm but firm. "Let her be."
"She's a royal heir!"
"She's a royal child," Mama corrected gently, stroking my hair. "A hundred years old is still young in our time. Let her enjoy her days while she can."
Liva scoffed so hard I thought she might cough out a bat.
"This is why she has no discipline," she snapped, shooting me a glare that could curdle sunlight. "Running about, giggling like a pixie with a sugar rush. Honestly, it's disgraceful."
"Well," I said with a cheeky grin, "better a giggling pixie than a grumpy goblin."
"AZURA!"
My mother coughed into her palm, clearly trying not to laugh. I felt her chest shake slightly as she held me closer.
Liva turned an alarming shade of stardust purple and spun on her heel. "I'm done. If she grows up to be a walking disaster, don't say I didn't warn you!"
And with that dramatic exit, complete with an unnecessary cape swirl, she stormed off into the glowing hallway of the royal courtyard.
Silence returned. Then Mama looked down at me, a sparkle in her eyes.
"A giggling pixie, hmm?"
I shrugged. "Seemed nicer.'"
She chuckled again and kissed my forehead. "You are trouble."
"But I'm your trouble."
"Forever and always."
I sighed in contentment, curled safely in her arms as the Volcamore leaves twinkled gently above us. For now, the sky was peaceful. For now, everything was perfect.
*********
I tried. I really, truly tried.
I'd made the promise with both hands on my chest, eyes wide and innocent, voice syrupy sweet: "No more hiding, Mama. Today I'll be a perfect princess. I'll smile and nod and sit through the entire meeting without interrupting once. I'll even keep my eyes open the whole time." How hard could it be?
I'd meant it. I really had.
But no one warned me that "sitting still and acting royal" was basically the same thing as slowly dying while surrounded by people in fancy robes saying absolutely nothing of interest.
I sat there now, perched on the velvet seat meant for me, back straight, chin up, and utterly, agonizingly bored out of my glittery skull.
"…and therefore, I propose we increase the Starlight Tax on low-altitude traders by two crescents per wingbeat," droned Lord Halver. I blinked. That sentence physically hurt.
Who cared about wingbeat taxes? What did that even mean?
I glanced at the glowing orb floating in the center of the table. It pulsed gently, recording the meeting, and I imagined tossing it like a snowfruit just to cause a distraction. I wouldn't, of course. I'd promised to behave. But I imagined it very vividly.
My mother, Queen Kayla, sat at the head of the long crescent table, her face calm and composed. Regal as ever. She was doing her best to lead with patience, grace… and the tiniest twitch in her temple that only I could notice. That meant she was one sarcastic comment away from losing her cool.
Across from her sat Lord Gilmore, and if petty had a face, it was his.
Gilmore's wings were folded so tightly behind him they might snap, and his tone carried that very specific brand of fake politeness that said I despise you, but I'm too much of a coward to admit it outright. He had never liked my mother. Something about her being "too kind" and "not stern enough" and "showing too much compassion for skyfolk." As if kindness were a crime.
"I just find it odd," Gilmore said, tilting his head with a smirk, "that Queen Kayla insists on helping the humans when we haven't addressed the ice bloom shortage in Sector Nine."
Mama's eyes flicked up. Calm. Controlled. But sharper than a crystal blade.
"The ice blooms are being discussed next," she replied smoothly. "Unless you'd prefer I reorder the entire agenda to suit your complaints, Lord Gilmore."
I snorted.
Just a tiny one. Barely a breath.
Mama didn't look at me, but her finger gave the faintest twitch which translated to Behave, Azura.
Gilmore smiled like a frog swallowing a bug. "Of course not, Your Majesty. I was merely pointing out that some of us believe our people should come first. Not the humans."
I sat up straighter, heart fluttering with irritation. My mother loved Earth. So did I. She believed in learning from them, connecting with them. They weren't perfect, but they were curious and messy and fascinating.
"The Queen is trying to build bridges," Lady Avia, one of the newer council members, said gently.
Gilmore sniffed. "Some bridges don't need building."
I was seconds away from launching something at his head when the doors flew open with a whoosh of wind and stardust and just like that, I forgot all about Gilmore, the council, and diplomacy entirely.
"Uncle Kone!"
I leapt out of my seat, yes, leapt and sprinted across the floor, nearly knocking over a crystal decanter.
He caught me in a warm laugh and spun me around.
There are few things in this world more comforting than Uncle Kone's arms. He smelled of copper and mint, his cloak half-dusted with ash from some experiment. His goggles were perched on his forehead, his smile as big as a crescent moon.
"Look at you," he grinned, setting me down. "You survived a council meeting! Did the boredom melt your wings yet?"
"Almost," I said dramatically. "I've aged five decades since it started. Save me."
Gilmore cleared his throat, unimpressed. "Is this interruption necessary?"
Kone raised an eyebrow and turned to him. "Oh, I'm sorry were you still talking? I figured once the droning became part of the furniture, the session was over."
I gasped.
Mama sighed but didn't stop smiling. Just a little. She gave Kone the kind of look sisters give when they're equal parts annoyed and grateful.
Gilmore's face turned the color of rotted starlilies. He stood stiffly, wings twitching. "Perhaps I should take my leave."
"Perhaps you should," Kone said mildly.
Mama stood. "Meeting adjourned"
My Aunt Liva, who had said absolutely nothing the whole time which was impressive, considering she usually had at least five insults per second swept out without so much as a glance at anyone. Her gown flared dramatically behind her. Classic.
Mama reached for Kone, hugging him tightly. "You're late," she murmured.
"I brought you cloudberries."
"That'll do."
She pulled back, looking tired for the first time that day. "I need rest. You can entertain the princess ."
Kone saluted dramatically. "With pleasure."
Mama kissed my forehead, and I caught her fingers for a moment. "I didn't throw anything," I said. "Or anyone."
"I'm proud of you," she said softly, squeezing my hand.
And then she left, her silver gown sweeping behind her like a comet tail, disappearing into the quiet halls.
Which left just me. And my uncle.
I looked up at him with a grin. "Now… tell me everything. Did you blow something up again?"
He winked. "Not on purpose."