I knew she was in the gardens, she always sought to escape into its green embrace. Something her mother most likely did since she was a creature connected to nature itself.
I remember when I first held Candice it was in the early hours of the morning when the sun was just piercing the sky with its golden rays. A storm had raged all night, and I had held onto her mother's hand as she moaned in agony during the labour. When the infant was placed into my arms, I was shocked at how small and light she really was. She did not cry nor wail, she only blinked up at me with her pretty green eyes and smiled her sweet smile.
Lady Aria watched us from her bed, her face pale yet luminous with a small smile gracing her pink lips. She looked so young to be giving birth, she was so tired that she fell asleep after enduring such agony. She looked so fragile with her black hair sticking to her face and neck with sweat, I knew she was slipping away from us even before the scarlet fever claimed her.
"Miss Harcourt," she whispered, "Please bring her here."
So I did, as carefully as I could holding Candice like she were made of glass or porcelain. Lady Aria cradled her daughter to her breast with trembling hands as tears slowly spilled from her eyes. I had served as a governess for many years in many noble households yet there was something special about Candice's birth that, while it was sad to know her mother would not live long, it was comforting to know her mother loved her so much.
Time was cruel in its wake as it slowly stripped Lady Aria of her vitality as she battled scarlet fever, yet it was kind to little Candice as she continued to grow stronger each passing day and month. Scarlet fever crept into the house slowly, like a promise of death, it stole Aria's breath slowly, as the physicians tried in vain to offer her tonic after exotic tonic to buy her more time to spend in our world.
Through it all, Aria did not complain, her only concern was her newborn daughter. I had no choice but to separate mother and daughter as soon as we found out that Lady Aria had scarlet fever. I never failed to give her a daily report on how the babe fared and each day she would smile sadly and remind me to someday tell her that she loved her.
It was on a night, when I could feel the heat and the sickness heavy in the atmosphere of the room that she finally revealed something special to me.
"Lock the door," she said softly.
I obeyed, unsettled by the clarity in her eyes. The candles flickered though there was no breeze, and the shadows seemed to gather together as if wanting to know a secret.
"You have always sensed it, haven't you?" Aria asked.
I hesitated. "My lady?"
"That I am not who I seem to be, that something was odd about me."
The words sent a chill through me. My heart pounded as she pushed herself upright with effort far beyond what her frail body should have allowed. She reached up and pressed her fingers to her throat, just beneath the hollow of her collarbone.
"What I am," she continued, "cannot survive long in this world with a glamour on."
Before I could speak, the air around her shimmered.
It was not an illusion of light or some trick of the fever. I felt it in the air it was magic, old and vast, unfolding like a breath held for too long. The glamour peeled away as gently as a veil slipping from a bride's face.
Aria's human form dissolved into something breathtaking.
Her skin gleamed like moonlight, etched faintly with veins of silver light. Delicate markings or runes, I would later understand them to be traced her arms and shoulders, pulsing softly. Her ears lengthened into elegant points, her hair remained raven black. Her eyes were no longer merely dark brown. They were pools of shifting emerald and starlight, ancient, sorrowful and kind.
I fell to my knees in awe.
"Please," she said gently, reaching for me. "Do not fear me, I will not harm you."
"You are… fae," I breathed in the revelation, it was like a jolt to the heart.
"Yes," she replied. "And more than that. I am of royal blood, from a court long hidden beyond your world's sight."
My mind reeled, but my heart understood before reason could catch up. Everything about her, like her otherworldly beauty, her quiet authority, and the way the atmosphere felt charged seemed to confirm her otherworldly presence from another realm.
"What about Candice?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Aria smiled, and it was both radiant and devastating. "She has royal fae blood in her veins. Even though she does not know it yet. She must not know for a long time to come, however when she does, I hope you will still be around to guide her through her fears of the future."
I said nothing in that moment, merely nodding my head as I let her hope rest on that small assurance that I would be around when that time did come.
"My time is ending," Aria said calmly. "The fever is only the surface of it. I have lingered longer than I should have, for her sake. But I cannot stay."
Tears burned my eyes. "What would you have me do, my lady?"
She looked at me then with a gaze so piercing it felt as though she saw right through me.
"I would have you be her guardian," she said. "Not merely her governess. Her shield. Her anchor to this world."
I swallowed hard. "I swear it."
"When she is grown," Aria continued, "when her magic stirs and the world begins to call to her in ways she cannot explain, you must tell her the truth. Not before. The timing will matter more to her than you know."
She took my hand, her skin warm despite the sickness, and pressed something unseen into my palm. I felt it settle there, an oath, binding and unbreakable.
"Promise me," she whispered.
"I promise," I said, my voice breaking. "On my life."
Relief softened her sharp features. The glamour returned slowly, folding her fae form back into fragile humanity. By morning, she was weaker. By the next night, she was gone.
Candice slept through it all.
I held her as the bells toiled and the household wept, and I understood then the weight of what had been placed upon me. I was keeper of a secret older than kingdoms, guardian to a child who would one day change the world, whether she wished to or not.
As Candice stirred in my arms, her tiny fingers curling around mine, I leaned close and whispered the vow I would keep until my final breath:
"You are loved. You are protected and when the time comes, I will tell you who you truly are."
Outside, the storm finally broke, and dawn crept softly into the room, quiet, watchful, and full of new life.
As I spied her in the garden, and the way she glowed just like her mother did so many years ago. I slowly approached her, not wanting to startle her from her reverie. The time came for her to know the truth.