paradise. Something my mind couldn’t even fathom. None of it was left. Now culture, language, and traditions were mostly lost, replaced by fae customs and the new wave of Westerners who thought this would be utopia without a ruling monarchy, pushing their ideals and culture on this eastern part of the country, blending and changing it into a confused hodgepodge of cultures.
Fae had been living among us since the beginning of time. Once leaders of Earth, they had to go into hiding for centuries, living in a realm called the Otherworld until a bitter old fae queen changed that, shredding the veil between the worlds, meshing them together. As children, we were taught Queen Aneira was a pitiless queen of the Otherworld, no longer wanting the fae scurrying around beneath the humans. Hiding. She waged a war that dissolved the barrier between the realms. Almost twenty years ago, the day of my birth, the wall between the fae world and Earth fell. History books told us the good guys won. And maybe to the Unified Nations, they did. But from Hungary east to Ukraine, we had split off from the rule of a Druid queen and an Unseelie king, becoming our own leaders.
The Hungarian fae nobles at the time thought being independent would be in the best interest of the people.
They were wrong.
When HDF came into view, my lips parted with awe. Basking in light, the gothic towers shot up dramatically like they were trying to skewer the stars in the sky, both beautiful and threatening. Growing up here didn’t anesthetize me to the effects this building had on me.
Dozens of guards patrolled the palace, another tier of defense more for keeping out the “savages” than protecting us from fae.
Caden and I went around the side to a private entrance with fewer sentinels. A guard stood by the door, nodding at us. They might frown at us being out here this time of night, but since we were safe inside Leopold city, they couldn’t do anything. And no one would ever tattle on Caden. No one would utter a word against the “prince” of Leopold.
“Sergeant.” Caden nodded to the man as he opened the door for us.
“Out late, sir,” the man responded, his gaze assessing our wet clothes and hair.
Caden put a hand on my back, rushing me through the entrance. My squeaky boots quieted when they hit the long, deep red rugs stretched down the huge hallway. The place had the ugly name of HDF, but it was a palace. Ornamental arched ceilings were painted with beautiful designs and frescos. Staircases showcased ornate detail and golden lampposts. Sculptures, paintings, and tapestries had been done by world-renowned artists, long gone from this world. One of the most famous rooms was a hexadecagon, the sixteen-sided central hall. Most of the building was decorated in gold-leaf paint, marble, and rich fabrics. The decadence of this place was beyond belief, especially compared to the poverty I heard about on the other side of the wall.
The smallest wing held private living quarters for those high enough in ranking to live here. It included a pool, bowling alley, movie theater, and two massive kitchens. The servants resided in the basement rooms below ours. The rest of the palace served for business and to impress. It boasted grand rooms, theaters, offices, training facilities, cafes—really anything you could wish for. It was a city within itself. My maid, Maja, loved to brag about the magnificence of the building, boasting about the ten courtyards, twenty-nine staircases, and 691 rooms.
Night guards watched Caden and me move down the halls toward the living quarters. Their expressions were blank, but I swore I could hear their internal sighs. As usual, Brexley Kovacs was leading their perfect prince into temptation and trouble.
Yeah, okay, I did that. A lot. But he needed a little excitement in his orderly life. Soon he wouldn’t be able to sneak out with me. It scared me that our time to be free like this was vanishing before my eyes. In a few weeks, he would graduate from the academy and become Lieutenant Caden Markos with his life laid out for him.
He’d no longer have time for me.
As we crept toward our residency, our boots harmonized in their high-pitched squeaking. I burst out laughing.
“Brex, be quiet,” he hissed, but the odd melody merely resounded more loudly through the hall, as did my giggles. He snapped his head to me, trying to glare at me, but humor divided his