Twilight-Stars-Dancing led Ali through corridors she hadn't seen before, where the eternal twilight seemed deeper, more concentrated. The strange golden storm light filtering through the windows created shifting patterns that reminded her uncomfortably of her attempts at light-weaving earlier that day.
"The Queen has been watching your progress with great interest," Twilight-Stars-Dancing said as they climbed a spiral staircase. His tone was carefully neutral, but Ali noticed how his fingers traced protective symbols in the air as they walked.
They arrived at a circular chamber high in one of the towers. The room was filled with the strange golden light from the storm, but here it seemed more controlled, gathered into intricate patterns that hovered in the air like suspended music.
Queen Mirabelle stood at the chamber's center, surrounded by several advisors including Melody-In-Moonlight. The Queen's usual radiant presence seemed somewhat subdued, though her gown still shimmered with captured sunlight.
"Young Ali," the Queen said, her voice carrying both warmth and a subtle edge. "Your first days at court have proven... memorable."
Ali curtsied deeply, remembering her mother's lessons about court etiquette. When she straightened, she found the Queen studying her with an intensity that made her light pendant grow warm against her skin.
"Your music lesson this morning," the Queen continued, "created quite a stir among the court musicians. And your light-weaving..." She gestured to where the strange storm light danced against the windows. "Most unusual patterns for a summer court."
Ali felt her heart speed up. Had her attempts at magic somehow contributed to the strange weather? She touched the light pendant unconsciously, and the golden light in the room flickered in response.
"Interesting," Queen Mirabelle murmured, her eyes following the movement of the light. "Twilight-Stars-Dancing, what do you make of your student's particular... affinity?"
The fae noble stepped forward, his own light-weaving creating subtle counterpoints to the storm's illumination. "She shows remarkable talent, Your Majesty. Perhaps too remarkable for one so new to our ways."
Melody-In-Moonlight stirred slightly at this, her silver-white hair catching and reflecting the golden light. "If I may, Your Majesty? The girl's music speaks true, even if it speaks... differently than we might expect."
The Queen raised an eyebrow at this diplomatic phrasing. "Different songs can still disturb the harmony of my court, dear Melody." She turned back to Ali. "Tell me, child, what do you hear in the storm's music?"
Ali listened carefully to the complex harmonies that filled the air. The light pendant seemed to pulse in time with certain notes, helping her distinguish patterns she might have otherwise missed. "I hear... old songs," she said slowly. "Songs about change and growth, about cycles and seasons—"
She stopped abruptly, noticing how several of the advisors exchanged glances at the word "seasons." The Queen's expression remained neutral, but Ali sensed she had stumbled close to something significant.
"Indeed," Queen Mirabelle said. "And these patterns you create in your weaving—they seem to respond rather... strongly to certain influences."
As if to emphasize her point, the golden storm light surged briefly, creating shapes that uncomfortably resembled Ali's earlier attempts at light-weaving. The Queen made a subtle gesture, and the light settled back into more traditional summer court patterns.
"Your Majesty," Ali began, choosing her words with extreme care, "if my attempts at court arts have caused any disruption—"
The Queen held up a hand, silencing her. "The Summer Court has endured for centuries, young Ali. It takes more than a tribute's first lessons to truly disturb our harmony." Her tone was reassuring, but her eyes remained sharp. "However, some songs are better left unsung until their proper time."
Melody-In-Moonlight stepped forward then, her presence somehow softening the tension in the room. "Perhaps, Your Majesty, we might adjust the girl's lessons? I could focus on the traditional summer harmonies, help her better attune to our court's particular... resonance."
The Queen considered this for a moment, her gown shimmering with captured sunlight as she moved. "Yes," she said finally. "Yes, that seems wise. The summer solstice approaches, after all. We would not want any... discordant notes in our celebration."
Ali felt the weight of unspoken meaning in those words. The light pendant grew almost hot against her skin, though its warmth felt somehow protective rather than threatening.
"Until then," the Queen continued, "perhaps it would be best if your light-weaving lessons were conducted in more... controlled circumstances." She gestured to Twilight-Stars-Dancing. "Supervision, I think, will be crucial."
"Of course, Your Majesty," he replied with a bow. "I will ensure our lessons maintain proper harmony with the court's rhythm."
The Queen nodded, apparently satisfied with these arrangements. "You may go, young Ali. Remember—the Summer Court's songs have sustained us through countless seasons. They require no... embellishment."
As Twilight-Stars-Dancing led Ali back through the winding corridors, she noticed the strange golden light beginning to fade, replaced by the court's usual eternal twilight. The storm's music grew fainter, though she could still hear traces of those deeper harmonies beneath the surface.
"Your talent is remarkable," Twilight-Stars-Dancing said quietly as they walked. "But talent uninformed by wisdom can be dangerous in the fae courts. Watch, listen, and above all—be careful what songs you awaken."
When Ali finally returned to her quarters, she found Sage waiting anxiously. The strange storm had passed, leaving only the usual summer evening in its wake. But Ali noticed her window still held traces of the unusual light patterns, like memories written in illumination.
"What happened?" Sage whispered. "Was the Queen very angry?"
"No," Ali replied slowly, touching the light pendant that had finally cooled against her skin. "Not angry. Just... concerned." She looked out at the now-clear twilight sky. "I think I may have accidentally played songs that weren't meant to be heard yet."
That night, as Ali prepared for bed, she found herself humming one of the storm's deeper harmonies. The air around her began to shimmer with golden light, and she quickly stopped, remembering the Queen's words about songs better left unsung.
But as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help wondering what other songs lay hidden in the Summer Court's eternal twilight, waiting for their proper time to be heard.