"That insolent brat!"

Ethephon opened the letter with a swift, almost violent motion, his eyes scanning the words as his frustration mounted. The reports of attacks on humans, the increase in mischief from the Pixie factions, and the ever-expanding Fae forest on the Fairy Queen's side of the realm filled him with a growing sense of urgency. His jaw tightened as he read the details. The problem was spiraling out of control, and there she was—his greatest source of irritation—right at the heart of it.

The humid, oppressive atmosphere in the throne room seemed to thicken with his mounting rage, beads of sweat clinging to the backs of the courtiers who stood frozen in place. None dared move, fearing to provoke the king's wrath as his normally composed demeanor evaporated. The sound of rustling leaves from the Forever Autumn tree in the center of the room provided the only movement in the tense silence.

Whenever the Fairy Queen's name crossed his lips, everything changed. His calm, commanding presence turned to something darker—angry, controlling, and almost unrecognizable. For years, Ethephon had pursued her relentlessly, each failed attempt to gain her submission only adding fuel to his burning rage. He had tried everything: bartering, political exchanges, coaxing, promises of whatever she wanted, but nothing had worked. True to her chaotic nature, she remained untamable, unpredictable, and defiant.

Ethephon's fists tightened further, the sound of his knuckles cracking sharply against his gauntlets echoing through the chamber. His eyes burned with fury as he looked at his brother, Auberon, whose words had broken the stillness like a sharp blade.

"Brother, just let me kill the bitch,"

Auberon, younger by centuries, shared his brother's rage—though his solution was far more direct and brutal. He wanted to end her existence completely, eradicating any chance of her chaotic influence ever returning. With a dramatic flick of his wrist, he drew his sword and sliced a falling leaf in two, the sound of metal cutting air emphasizing his frustration.

"Auberon, you already know why we can't do that," Ethephon said, his tone lowering slightly as he spoke. "I need her power."

The words left his mouth with an almost resigned finality. Auberon might have been more willing to resort to violence, but Ethephon's vision was more intricate. His brother was way too young to understand—give it a few more centuries.

"Sire, I propose we invade. The Wilds are moving too fast. What if we—"

"For goddess' sake, Silas, you know why," Ethephon interjected, his voice rising just slightly as he rubbed at his temples in frustration. He exhaled slowly, trying to regain his composure. The idea of an invasion was tempting, but it was too dangerous.

"Invading her Wilds would only ignite chaos. We need her... controlled." His eyes narrowed as he looked at the fae nobles, who were beginning to murmur once again.

"I'll send her a letter," he said, his tone measured but with an unmistakable finality. "It's all I can do. I'll give her a month to respond to my summons, and if not... then we invade. For the realm, for the people, for the greater good."

Meanwhile, in the heart of the Enchanted Wilds, the air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth as sunlight filtered through the canopy in dappled patterns. Unlike Ethephon's ordered realm, chaos reigned supreme—satyrs chased nymphs between trees, centaurs engaged in rowdy competitions, and pixies darted about leaving trails of glittering dust.

At the center of this wild gathering sat the Fairy Queen upon a throne of interwoven living vines. A young centaur commander hovered nearby, attending to her every need with a mixture of devotion and seasonal lust, his tail flicking nervously as reports of Ethephon's threat spread through the court.

"Invade?! Why those fucking pompous—" A banshee's voice shrieked, her face contorted in rage, though she was quickly hushed by a nearby treant whose branches rustled with calming energy.

"Let them come," a centaur warrior grinned lewdly, pounding his chest with a massive fist. "We'll crush their pretty little army and hang their king's wings as trophies!"

The queen observed her court's reactions with a mixture of amusement and concern. Her realm might be chaotic, but it was her chaos—vibrant, alive, and free. Ethephon's ordered world seemed cold and lifeless by comparison.

As the voices rose into disorganized shouting, the Fairy Queen rose, her form seeming to shimmer with the same wild magic that permeated her realm. The court fell silent instantly, all eyes turning to their sovereign.

It was clear. The time had come to answer the king's summons—and determine the fate of both realms.