Regolo the Intruder

Serious third wheel energy.

*This little scene is one I’ve published before. It comes out of a notebook I have tons of writing in for another ballet fairy tale retelling, this time involving the famed sugar plum fairy and her cavalier. Hopefully, one day I’ll get around to sifting through it all and making proper sense of it in a doc so that it can eventually graduate into an actual book.

“How did you know?” Mira halted her steps, looking back over her shoulder at him.

The soldier’s dark brow furrowed over his frosty blue eyes. Such a striking combination. That genetic trait of northern fae is what had stopped her in her tracks on the day of her coronation. All the peculiarities of that moment came back to her in a rush—the way her nerves had gone quiet the moment she’d caught sight of him, only to be replaced by something entirely different. Heat bloomed in her middle at the memory, working its way up into her cheeks.

“About your dreams?”

Ice’s voice broke through the quiet, jolting her back to the present. She straightened and looked away, then started to walk again but stopped before she’d made it two steps. Revelation hit her full force.

“Wait,” she turned back around, “are you… ?” Her words cut off. If he could tell prophecy and read dreams, that meant he’d met his gifting.

The soldier dropped his head, a quick frown moving his lips before those two piercing eyes met hers again.

“At first, my talent held to managing beasts like Deacon.” Of course. To be a rider in any cavalry, one had to have instincts about animals, especially horses. Whether that skill classified as a real gifting or merely an inclination was debatable, though. Mira frowned. “The other gifts came later.”

Her eyes widened.

“Others?” Ice gave a slight nod as though embarrassed by this fact. But why? If true, it would be extraordinary. Fae gifting in her generation had all but disappeared. To have more than one power manifest was unheard of!

“A recent development, actually.” He added.

Mira stood there, dumbstruck. How could it be? The Winter fae were known for their military prowess and physical strength, but not usually for the higher giftings. Unless she’d learned her history wrong. Or had been taught wrong.

“It really doesn’t matter. It’s only happened a few times, but…”

“But?” Mira prodded.

“I’ve been right about each one.”

She cocked her head to the side.

“And just what have you been right about?”

He squared his stance, looked her dead in the eye.

“About what would happen.”

She swallowed. She didn’t know what to think of this. Nightmares loomed dark in her mind. They came to her each night bringing with them a blurry, overall feeling of dread. Nothing concrete ever revealed itself in them, however, certainly no premonition. She reasoned them a sign of her own insecurities. Not once did it cross her mind they might warn of ill portent.

Willing movement into her limbs, she walked away from him, sitting under the leafy arbor they’d just hung lanterns on for the celebration. A million thoughts raced through her head as she fought to maintain the composure expected of a queen. If only Nestor were here.

A distinct flapping noise above the arbor took both their gazes up to the greenery. Conjured by her merely thinking his former master’s name, apparently, Regolo chose that moment to make one of his grand entrances. The mini-dragon swooped down under the vine, circled Mira, then perched next to her on the bench like he had every right. She shot the pesty creature a frown, but he opened his mouth wide, then snapped his beak shut as if to cut off any reprimand she might give.

Ice chuckled and Mira looked up.

Ice.

The warmth of his smile lit his whole face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. It made the silent moniker she used for him feel incongruous. She’d been calling him by that nickname in her head all this time. Would her ears accept anything else?

“Your Highness?” The soldier prodded when she continued staring. Mira blinked.

“Forgive me, I… it’s just I realize I don’t know what your name is.”

He straightened, resuming his military stance once more.

“Well, you are a queen,” he shrugged, “I am a soldier.”

“And a very high-ranking one with the utmost trust of his king, so it seems.”

He inclined his head. Mira held his stare, feeling his next deep intake of breath as she did. He exhaled in a rush, looking away before he spoke.

“I don’t know the name given to me at birth.”

“Not know it?”

He moved his gloves from one hand to the other.

“They found me in Ilvrow as a child, too young to speak. When they took me to the guard captain, he kept me and raised me in the cavalry’s barracks. Since no one knew where I’d come from, he called me Severlan.”

“Severlan.” Mira breathed the word, tasting the foreign sound of it in her mouth. It felt bitter, or maybe bittersweet.

His head dipped, affirming.

“Severed from the land… It’s what the north fae call someone with no homeland.”

What sad beginnings for a child. Mira swallowed. His eyes flicked up to hers, lighting another tiny fire inside her before he glanced down at his gloves and muttered.

“My friends call me Sasha.”

The soft tone of his voice settled in her ears. making her grin.

“I like that.”

His head jerked up, a look of surprise filling his face. “You do?”

Mira nodded. If those closest to him used the nickname, then she would use it as well.

“Yes,” warmth rose into her cheeks once more, as well as a laugh she had a hard time suppressing, “I do, Sasha.”

At that moment, Regolo screeched. He stood up on the bench, tired of being kept out of the conversation. Then the little miscreant flew onto her shoulder, flapping his scaly wings before spreading them wide, tangling one in her hair. Sasha glanced sidelong at the red devil. A chiding smile played on his lips. He reached a hand out toward the dragon bird. Regolo responded by opening his beak wide. The tiniest of blazes shot from his mouth at the soldier’s fingertips before snapping shut.

“Regolo, stop!” Mira shouted, thoroughly embarrassed by his behavior. “I don’t know why I let you roam free the way I do.”

She pulled at her hair, shooting Sasha an apologetic glance only to find him laughing. His hand continued toward her. Undeterred by the tiny fire breather, he swept his fingers over her shoulder, grazing her neck before loosening the snarl between Regolo’s wingtip and her hair. The contact burned through her, traveling like lightning down her spine. When she looked up, her eyes caught with his and held. She couldn’t believe how wrong she’d been about the nickname. No ice she knew of gave off such warmth.

She had to send him away. Duty demanded it. His mission for King Cirrian weighed on him, and his presence in Savine had already caused an uproar. But the idea of asking him to stay, to join her at the festival, dance with her under the late autumn moon, stirred up heady feelings. Regolo squawked loudly in her ear, causing her to cringe. Free of her hair, he flew off her shoulder. Mira stood up next to Sasha, both of them tracking the mini-dragon’s flight until he disappeared into the trees.

*First published on Substack in the Monsters & Mystics newsletter by Amanda V Shane 2023. All rights reserved.

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If you’d like to read the original posting, and see some cute pictures of my chickens as babies, it can be found here. 👇