The day of the debutante ball dawned bright and early at the palace. The sun peeked through the elegant curtains of the guest room, casting soft rays over the plush bedding. Hale blinked awake, her lazy limbs stretching luxuriously beneath the covers. "Mm... What a nice bed. So fluffy," she murmured, sinking back into the pillows. Just as she settled in for another nap, an unexpected wave of fatigue washed over her.
"What the?" She sat up suddenly, her body protesting like a grumpy cat. "Why do I feel so…" she mumbled, rubbing her shoulders. As her hand brushed against her skin, she froze, staring at her palm as if it were a foreign object.
"Ah, Shi—"
In the training ground, Alastor and Rowan were engaged in a fierce sparring match, their swords clashing with a rhythmic clang. Alastor, clad in a casual white collared shirt and fitted pants, moved with the ease of someone who had trained for years. His silver hair caught the sunlight, making him look even more handsome, much to the delight of the maids who sneaked glances at the two men.
"Why is it so silent when Hale is in the palace?" Alastor mused, pausing mid-swing to glance toward the guest wing.
Rowan, dressed in a navy blue collared shirt, huffed slightly as he tried to keep up. "The queen hasn't come out of her room, Your Majesty."
Alastor paused, a frown crossing his face. "Strange. She's a light sleeper."
Rowan merely shrugged, waiting for his king to make a decision.
"I'll go check on her," Alastor declared, already on his way.
Rowan followed closely behind, their footsteps echoing through the grand hallways.
They arrived at Hale's door, Alastor's brow furrowing further as he noted the unnatural silence. "Why the heck is it so silent?" he whispered to Rowan, a chill creeping down his spine.
"Perhaps she's still sleeping?" Rowan suggested, glancing at the door as if it might suddenly burst open.
Alastor's eyes narrowed, and he knocked with a firm rap.
The door swung open, revealing a strikingly handsome man with short midnight blue hair and orange eyes that resembled the sunset. Water droplets glistened on his skin, having just emerged from a bath. He stood there, clad only in black pants and a towel draped casually around his neck, exuding an air of indifferent confidence.
Alastor and Rowan's jaws dropped in unison, their eyes wide as they took in the sight before them.
"Who are you?!" Alastor blurted out, his expression morphing into one of utter absurdity.
The man raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "You think everyone can look this handsome?" he retorted, his voice smooth as silk.
"Wait—Hale?!" Alastor's eyes widened in realization. "Why—Why are you a man? And why are you...?" His voice trailed off as his gaze drifted downward, taking in the rather scandalous state of Hale's attire—or lack thereof.
Rowan blinked, trying to process the scene before him, his mind racing to catch up.
Both men turned their faces away, their cheeks flushing crimson.
"Put something on first, damn it!" Alastor exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch.
Hale rolled his eyes, unfazed. "Unless you two are interested in men, I see no reason why you two should be so flustered."
"Shut up! Why the heck are you a man?!" Alastor shot back, incredulous.
Hale's expression turned impassive as he stepped back into the room, casually tossing the towel over his shoulder. "Well, I forgot to transform yesterday." He narrowed his eyes, rummaging through his belongings. "I can't believe this. When did I become so careless?"
Alastor blinked, regaining his composure as he looked back at Hale. "Forgot to transform?"
"Uh-huh," Hale replied, his tone indifferent as he pulled a violet collared shirt from the bed. "You know the drills. Fays have to transform at least twice a day." He began buttoning the shirt, a look of mild annoyance crossing his face. "I spent the whole day yesterday as a woman, so my body was killing me when I woke up."
Rowan, still trying to wrap his head around the situation, raised an eyebrow. "Killing you?"
"Just an expression, dear," Hale said, waving a hand dismissively. "You don't use them here?"
Alastor and Rowan exchanged a glance.
"Right, because the concept of a 'killing hangover' is a totally normal thing," Alastor quipped, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.
Hale shot him a dry look. "You'd be surprised what we fays can endure. Besides, I'm not the one who's been sparring in the morning sun like a peacock trying to impress the hens."
Rowan chuckled, while Alastor shook his head, resigned. "You do realize you're the one who just opened the door half-naked, right? Talk about trying to impress someone."
Hale smirked, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "Well, if I had known you two would be so easily flustered, I might have considered it a strategic move."
"Seriously... Are you going to transform back before the ball?" Alastor asked, exasperated.
Hale shrugged, "Nope. I'll attend like this."
"You'll attend like that?!"
"Why not?" Hale replied, tilting his head slightly, "What's the problem? I'm pretty sure I'm way too good looking to embarrass you."
"That's exactly the problem!" Alastor exclaimed, throwing his hands up in disbelief. "You'll attract too much attention!"
Hale rolled his eyes, a dramatic flourish that only added to his charm. "Well, what do you expect me to do? I can't turn into a woman. Should I turn into a wolf instead?"
Alastor's eyes widened, momentarily taken aback. Then, a smirk spread across his face. "That would be better, actually."
"Ha! You lazy man!" Hale retorted, grabbing a nearby pillow and tossing it at Alastor with surprising accuracy. The pillow hit him squarely in the chest, sending him stumbling back a step.
"Hey!" Alastor laughed, catching the pillow mid-fall.
Rowan, who had been silently observing the exchange, blinked in confusion. "How would transforming into a wolf... be better?" He tilted his head, trying to comprehend the logic behind the suggestion.
Alastor caught Hale's eye and they burst into laughter, the tension in the air dissipating.
Hale crossed his arms, feigning exasperation but unable to suppress a grin. "Oh, Rowy. He wants to use me to scare the nobles so he can avoid talking with them."
Rowan's expression morphed into one of sheer disbelief, his mouth slightly agape.
"You can't be serious?!"