“You’re needed in the Winter Realm,” I growl.
I should never have started bringing Quellos inside the castle at all. But it was better that than return to my realm, the way the others sporadically do to check on the ruling of their homelands. I haven’t been back since the curse.
I probably won’t ever go back.
He’s getting frustrated with me. Every visit it’s worse. Every visit he gets more insistent I return.
Goblins pouring into the cities… Angry citizens seeking an end to my princedom.
Nothing a beast can do.
With a sigh, I knead the bridge of my nose. “The rule is yours, Quellos. You are both vizier and steward of the Winter Realm. Figure out a solution to these problems.”
A tick twitches in Quellos’s jaw. “I am not Prince of the Winter Realm. I hold none of the ancient magic. And only you can wield the Queen’s sword.”
“And I must stop the thorns—”
“But you’re not stopping them!” Quellos roars. He’s never spoken to me like that.
And if anyone else did, they would have their throat in my jaws right now.
Breath comes ragged from the vizier’s throat, and he gestures to the clumps of purple thorns breaking through the cracks in the stone. “Look around, Keldarion. Every time I visit, it’s worse. Castletree’s magic is fading.Yourmagic is fading. Either do your job,” he takes a deep breath, “or pass the rule onto someone who will.”
Shame floods through me. Shame and anger and betrayal. Quellos already knows so many of my evils. If he knew about the curse too…No, he must never know.
I turn his words against him. Straightening to my full height, I tilt my head to take in the vizier. “So, you’ve finally gotten the balls to ask for the throne.”
Quellos puts both his hands into his wide sleeves. “Some people are meant to rule, my Prince. Others are not.” He stands and walks over to the large door that exits the castle. “And every day you spend figuring out which one you are, the more your people suffer.”
“I’m the only one who can stop the Prince of Thorns,” I growl.
Quellos gives me a half-lidded gaze. “Or is he the only one who can stop you?”
The word comes out a rabid snarl: “Leave.”
“I’m on my way out,” he says calmly. “Oh, is this a new servant?”
Rosalina stands at the bottom of the stairs, a tray of cookies and tea in her hands. She yelps when she catches my eye and nearly drops the tray. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just, I heard voices, and I had too much food to myself, and I thought Kel might want some. Keldarion, I mean. Prince of Winter. Winter Prince. Um, I’m going to go—” She turns on her heel.
“Wait,” Quellos says. “A human, are you?”
“Yes,” she squeaks. “I’m Rosalina O’Connell.”
“Interesting. I never knew you to take humans into your service, Keldarion,” Quellos muses.
Ice crackles beneath my boots and I step between them. “You were on your way out.”
“Yes. Yes, I was,” Quellos says. “Good meeting you, Rosalina. Perhaps we’ll see one another in the future.” He pulls open the door.
A blast of cold air hits me. Not the cold like my chambers, wherehisbriars have affected everything, even my own magic. No, this wind carries the smells of wood smoke and roasted chestnuts. A hint of pine and spruce from Buttercup Forest mingles with the earthy smell of the snow-covered ground. The sharp bite of an icy chill lingers in the air after the door slams shut behind him.
It smells like home.
“What the heck? Where did he go?” Rosalina chirps. “That did not look like the Briar out there.”
“Do you know that was a private political meeting you were eavesdropping on?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping!” Her face flushes an exquisite pink. “I was trying to be friendly and bring you a cookie.”