CHAPTER XIII
"Petals, Princesses, and a Dress Full of Thorns"
"I need new clothes," I huffed, tugging at the hem of my golden dress, which now looked more like a wrinkled curtain than a royal gown. "These are filthy. And honestly, I haven't felt like a true Princess of Frosthevan in a long time."
Olivia, brushing a few specks of dust from her own outfit, nodded in agreement. "Yes, same. My dress used to be silver-blue… now it's more of a mud-gray."
Aurelia, never one to miss out on fashion discussions, stepped in eagerly. "Then we should all change! I want something beautiful — maybe a golden silk gown that flows like moonlight!"
Caelum, who had been busy sketching symbols in the air with a bit of pollen, looked up at us and smiled. "Alright, alright. Should I make your dresses out of roses?"
I raised an eyebrow, giving him the most deadpan look I could muster. "Oh sure. And when the wind blows, the petals fly away and you stand there laughing while we stand there… not laughing."
Cael smirked. "You wound me with your assumptions, Princess Celeste."
He turned toward me with a dramatically raised hand, as though addressing the sky. "Oh my gods, how does one person talk this much? Do you ever pause, Cel? Talking this much surely isn't healthy."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm expressive. You should try it sometime."
He chuckled under his breath but then softened his tone. "If I make your dresses from enchanted rose silk, they'll not only carry the scent of real petals… but be just as durable as royal fabric. Elegant, protective, and strong — like all three of you."
Before I could respond, Olivia gently stepped in, placing a hand on Cael's arm.
"Don't mind her," she said with a smile. "She's not angry… she's just protective. Especially about her dignity."
Caelum looked at her, then back at me — and nodded. "I know. I understand."
His voice had quieted.
And something in the air shifted.
Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the way the morning sun danced between the rose branches above us, but for a moment… everything felt still.
There was no teasing.
No sarcasm.
Just… understanding.
And before I knew it, Cael was standing at the center of the clearing, whispering ancient words under his breath. His fingertips glowed faintly as he drew invisible patterns through the air — and all around us, the rose petals began to stir.
They rose like a storm of color — reds, pinks, silvers, and deep golds — whirling above our heads in a spiral of silent magic. I watched, mesmerized, as they floated gently downward… and wrapped themselves around our bodies.
The warmth of the spell pulsed against my skin, not like fire, but like memory — like something that knew me better than I knew myself.
And then, it was over.
When I looked down…
My dress had changed.
It shimmered with the elegance of a thousand golden petals, each one kissed by light and bound by thread spun from moonlight and magic. It flowed around me like a story untold, soft yet strong, scented faintly like roses after rain.
Olivia's gown sparkled like stardust on ice — silver and blue, with subtle patterns shaped like wings and wind. She twirled, laughing in delight.
Aurelia's gown was pure enchantment — gold and cream, draped like the sun melting into dawn. She ran her fingers along the fabric in awe.
And Cael?
He just stood there… watching.
Not smiling with pride.
Not seeking compliments.
Just… watching.
As if making us feel beautiful was all the reward he needed.
I looked at him, my voice a little softer now. "Thank you, Cael."
He blinked — surprised, maybe — then gave the smallest nod.
"You're welcome," he said quietly.
And that was it.
No teasing.
No jokes.
Just a moment of magic, shared under the morning sky, with rose petals still floating to the ground like blessings.
Maybe the dresses were made from roses.
But in that moment…
They felt like armor.
Made from kindness, trust, and something far more rare:
Care.
"The Rose That Wouldn't Stay"
Cael reached out toward a rosebush blooming beside us, his fingers moving with the elegance of a painter at work. He plucked a single rose — careful, almost reverent — then gently tossed it into the air. As it floated upward, he circled his hands around it, whispering a quiet spell.
From his palms, a soft pink light shimmered, swirling through the air like ribbons of dawn.
The rose began to unravel — but not in decay.
Its petals didn't fall. They danced.
Three of them twirled outward, curling and weaving together like threads of silk and magic, forming a breathtaking dress that shimmered with quiet elegance — like something spun from starlight and morning mist.
We all gasped as it formed in mid-air.
But Cael didn't stop there.
Two more petals broke away from the enchanted bloom, flying gently across the clearing toward Flash and Chiko. The moment they touched the little creatures, the petals stretched and reshaped themselves — transforming into tiny, perfect garments, snug and soft, made just for them.
Flash blinked, admiring his new outfit. "Finally! No more walking around in pixie dust and attitude."
Even Chiko squeaked in approval.
Then, with a flick of his fingers, Cael directed the last petal to himself. It floated down and merged into the fabric of his own clothes, and before our eyes, his black royal attire grew richer — more refined. Golden embroidery etched itself across the sleeves like blooming vines, and a faint shimmer danced across the collar. He looked regal — powerful — yet still very much the Cael we knew.
He turned to us, smiling with pride, and held out the folded dresses to each of us.
"Here," he said warmly. "You should wear these inside the Royal Palace. They're infused with the energy of Crimson Cove's sacred roses — symbols of protection and grace."
Aurelia took hers with a bright grin. "This is incredible, Cael. Thank you."
Olivia accepted hers too, gently holding the dress close. "It's beautiful… I love it."
Then came my turn.
Cael handed me the last one — delicate, golden-pink, and glowing faintly with magic.
I reached for it.
And the moment my fingers touched the fabric…
The dress shimmered—
—and vanished.
It didn't fall apart or disintegrate.
It transformed.
Back into a single rose petal.
I blinked, stunned.
"What…?"
I turned toward Aurelia and Olivia. They were still holding their dresses just fine. Not a single thread had changed. Not a single shimmer lost.
I looked back at Cael, my expression quickly darkening.
"Is this some kind of joke?" I asked, my voice sharp with frustration.
Cael looked just as surprised. "No, I swear—Cel, I don't know what happened."
I narrowed my eyes. "Oh really? Because it keeps happening to me."
"Wait, give me a moment," he said quickly, already reaching for another rose. "Let me try again."
He repeated the spell, almost exactly as before. The flower responded, blossoming and breaking apart into another glowing gown. This one was even more beautiful than the last — golden threads trailing like sunlight caught in silk.
He offered it to me again, gently, carefully.
I reached out… and the moment it touched my skin—
The dress crumbled into soft pink light… then reformed into a lone petal, weightless in my hand.
I stared at it in disbelief.
Cael stepped back, visibly shaken. His brows furrowed, and for the first time since I'd met him, I saw confusion… and something else.
Worry.
Real, raw worry.
He stared at my hands, at the petal now resting in my palm, as if it were something dangerous — or sacred — and even he couldn't tell which.
His eyes began to glow faintly red, the way they always did when his emotions slipped through his control. But his face…
His face wasn't angry.
It was scared.
Not of me.
But of something.
He whispered, mostly to himself, "This shouldn't be possible."
I took a cautious step forward. "Cael… what's happening?"
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he kept looking at me — eyes searching, calculating, as though trying to put together a puzzle only he could see.
His voice came out low, almost uncertain. "I've cast this spell a hundred times… and it's never failed. Never. Not even once. And yet—"
He gestured toward the rose petal that had once been a dress. "You're the only one it won't work for."
I clutched the soft petal in my fingers. "So what does that mean?"
He met my eyes.
And the depth of his stare chilled me.
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But something about your magic… or your soul… is resisting mine."
He paused, his voice dropping into a whisper.
"Or protecting you from it."
I stared at him, my heart suddenly thudding louder in my chest.
Was it a warning?
A gift?
A curse?
Or was there something buried in me — something older, deeper — that even magic couldn't touch?
The petal glowed faintly in my hand, warm and innocent.
But now, it felt like a question.
One I wasn't ready to answer.
Not yet.
To be continue....