“And?” Marigold is practically drooling. “Was it worth it?”
“No.” Ciara rolls her eyes. “He was charming until we arrived at his bedroom. He didn’t even fully undress. I used all my best moves, but he looked bored the whole time. Crazy, right? I mean, have you seen me?”
She is beautiful from top to bottom, but not only that, she has an allure of confidence I envy.
“After a couple minutes, he rolled off and didn’t even come inside me! Sputtered it onto the sheets, shoved my clothes into my hands, and said, ‘Tell Kel I say hi’. Such a jerk. I didn’t go down there so he could send me to his—”
A frigid blast of air shudders over us and we turn to see Keldarion at the top of the stairs, flanked by the other three princes.
Ciara’s eyes grow wide. She moves toward him. When he arrives at the bottom of the stairs, she reaches for him.
My fists clench at my sides. Why is she so intent on—
But Keldarion just grips her wrists and drags her toward the mirror without so much as a second glance. “You are not wanted here.”
Ciara lets out a strangled gasp, then looks back and forth. Something clears in her eyes. “I—”
Keldarion stops in front of the mirror and places a palm on it. The glass ripples beneath his touch. “Think of your home. Do not return Below.”
Ciara nods. She steps toward the mirror, before turning back. “I almost forgot. This is for you.” She reaches into her pocket before pulling out a rolled parchment and handing it to me.
I take it and feel the wisp of magic as she disappears into the mirror.
Kel’s breath is heavy above me as he looks down at the paper in my hands. It’s a small scroll, closed with a wax seal in the shape of a rose.
“I guess I’ll see what it says,” I breathe, heart quickening as I unroll the paper. The princes, Marigold, and Astrid all crowd around me.
On it is a single inked line in swirling script.
I was thinking of you the entire time, princess.
-C
“That fae did look like you.” Dayton breaks the silence with a laugh. “Well, you’re truly part of the family now, blossom, to gain the torment of the Prince of Thorns.”
30
Keldarion
SometimesIwonderwhyI keep Perth Quellos as vizier of the Winter Realm when listening to his voice is like shoving my brain through melting snow.
I hold my body rigid, legs crossed, leaning on a pillar in the entrance hall. It’s the only room of Castletree Quellos is allowed in. I won’t bring him into the sitting room or the dining hall. And I certainly won’t bring him into the Winter Wing.
He’s lucky he’s even allowed in the castle at all.
“Are you listening to me, Keldarion?” the vizier says, enunciating every syllable. Torchlight shines off his bald head, and his glassy eyes seem to stare straight through me.
No, I’m not listening. My mind keeps reeling back to a week ago. Fucking Caspian. He’s always delighted in torturing me. But to involve Rosalina—
“Keldarion?” Quellos snaps.
“Goblins ravaging the cities. Minor rebellions. Knights deserting from the army. Why do you bother coming when you bring no new tidings?” I bite out.
Quellos holds me in a cold glare. He’s known me since I was a boy. He advised my father. Gods, the man is ancient. Yet, he still hasn’t figured me out, and it drives him insane. “Keldarion. You are Prince of the Winter Realm. Your people need you to come home.”
I touch the snowflake necklace that falls across my chest. My simple white shirt has a wide V, and I wear tight leather pants with dirty boots. I don’t want Quellos to get the idea I’ll dress up for him. “We’ve been over this before. If Castletree falls to the thorns, it’s not just the Winter Realm that’s doomed. It’s everything.”
Quellos licks his blue lips, stained from consumption of tamen, the seeds of a berry that only grows around Frostfang, the capital of the Winter Realm. Tamen is highly commoditized for its ability to maintain alertness and focus—and for being highly addictive. “I understand the thorns are a threat. But perhaps you need outside assistance. If I were to station here to study this phenomenon—”