The pixies sat on a branch as if this was story time.
Hatter gave me a soft smile. “One of my favorite memories of you was from your fifth birthday. Everyone at the castle wanted to celebrate.”
A lump rose in my throat. Few people had ever celebrated my birthday. Jax and a girl I befriended when I was eleven were the two exceptions.
“But Elise and I wanted to do something different. Something that you’d been dying to experience, but your parents deemed age-inappropriate.”
“What was it?” The words popped out before I could stop them, so great was my curiosity.
“You wanted a ball, one to celebrate you.”
I jerked back. “No way!”
“Yes, way. I know it’s hard to believe, but all little Alice wanted when she was five was a handsome prince to sweep her off her feet and dance with her at a ball.”
“I was so basic!”
Everyone except me laughed. I was too mortified to think anything about that memory was funny.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Henri said after he stopped laughing at my expense. “You were just a young girl who wanted the world.”
Huh, okay, I could live with that version.
I nodded. “Continue.”
His lips quirked up. “So Elise and I put together a ball—”
I arched my eyebrows. “You told me Elise was two years younger than me. I highly doubt that at three, anyone has ever arranged a ball.”
His cheeks colored. “You’re right. But she did help . . . a little. Now, no more questions. Concentrate on trying to remember.”
Oops. He had me there.
I closed my eyes, because as embarrassing as the memory he’d chosen to share was, I needed to try to unlock my aether-magic.
“You wore cornflower blue, and I escorted you to the Grand Hall, where a harpist was playing music.”
As if by magic, a song played in my mind, something that resembled Clair de Lune, but more lively—it had to be fae.
“Elise was there already, sitting on the throne and instructing us to dance.”
My sister’s image filled my mind. Even though I’d only just remembered her, it was easy to picture Elise sitting on a throne, playing queen. Watching a young Henri and me holding each other.
A soft hand landed on mine—Hatter’s.
“I wanted to impress you, so I’d learned the latest court dances. If you want, I can show you now?”
My breath hitched, and although I knew it would be smarter to say no, I couldn’t stop myself. “Yes,” I whispered, keeping my eyes closed. “That might help.”
He pulled me up, wrapped an arm around my waist and took my hand in the other.
“Whoa, eight-year-old Henri, getting fresh,” I said, trying to lessen the tension in my chest.
“Get to visualizing, Princess,” Hatter whispered back.
I brushed off the ‘princess’ comment as he led me in a dance. Thankfully, the surrounding ground was flat, and the dance was contained, because otherwise I would have fallen flat on my ass.
“The harpist played, and Elise sang, and—”
