Protect what wasmine.
“Kel,” Ez’s voice is so soft, “you know you are more than the Protector to me. I have stood by you, and will continue to do so, through whatever darkness arises. You can tell me anything and I will not run from you.”
I want him to stop talking. I whip open the door.
“Is there a reason you are keeping Rosalina a prisoner?” he says, and I can’t block out his voice, no matter how much I want to. “Do you know something about her?”
I know that despite her want, despite her endless research, Rosalina will never break the curse. Because I won’t let her. I know now I’d let every single person in my realm succumb to goblins and thorns before I let her. “Ez, leave it be.”
He walks right behind me. His heavy breathing reverberates through the helm. “Did you make a bargain with Caspian?”
I grip the doorframe. Ez should lose his helm for talking to me so boldly. I should throw him to the ground and make him submit. How dare he ask me these things? How dare he mention Caspian’s name?
“Ez,” I say, but my voice does not come out as a command. It comes out broken. And as I turn to face my friend, the sun shifts beneath the horizon and the beast shivers out of my flesh. Ezryn’s monstrous form faces me, a black wolf of bone and fungus and churned earth.
There’s still hope for him to find his mate. Maybe that will break his curse. But as I lay upon the cold earth, his snout touching mine, his paw across my own as if he could protect me from myself, I know there is nothing left for me.
Not since the Prince of Thorns took it all.
43
Rosalina
Iforcemyeyesto stay open as the pages of the book blur before me. The last few weeks have been endless late nights of research, ball planning, and outfit fittings. Well, mostly me nagging the princes to go back to their realms during the day for their fittings. They’ve hired the best tailors in each realm to do the outfits. It is the first time in twenty-five years all four of them will be in the same place, so they have to look their best.
The only prince that wouldn’t go was, unsurprisingly, Keldarion. So, Marigold took his measurements—something she thoroughly enjoyed—while I giggled in the corner at how uncomfortable he looked. Kel had rebutted by telling her to take my measurements, saying of course I would need something decent to wear as well.
I insisted it be nothing fancy. This was about them, not me.
I sit in the library reading a book on etiquette and formal dining manners, something far less interesting than fae mates. But I’m determined to make this ball a success and not look like a fool while doing so.
Since I can’t travel to the Winter Realm, we’ve been planning the whole thing via letters the Winter staff deliver during the day. By some miracle, Keldarion and Perth Quellos have agreed to open the Winter Realm’s door to a select few staff for travel back and forth while performing preparation duties.
A week to the solstice now. As much as I’d love to go to the Winter Realm before the ball, Keldarion wouldn’t allow it. I’m just happy he’s going to the ball at all.
I turn the page of my book and it lands on the proper steps of the waltz. I’ve been practicing with Astrid and Marigold, but mostly for fun. It’s not like I’ll be dancing there. The princes will dance with potential mates, and I doubt any fae will want to dance with the human.
I sneak a glance up from my page and spot Farron across the table, his chair tilted back on two legs, a pen dangling between his teeth, glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose. Butterflies stir in my stomach as I take in the sight of him. His wavy locks fall across his forehead and into his eyes. He is breathtaking.
Farron looks up and our eyes meet. He gives me a soft half-smile, and it makes me want to run across the room to him and—
A cold burst of air rushes around me. Keldarion? Is he here? I straighten. A window has opened behind us, blowing in a cloud of snow.
“Stars!” Farron leaps up and runs over to it, latching it closed, but not before it leaves a dusting of snowflakes over his brown hair. I laugh and jump up, relieved at any break from studying.
“I hate winter,” he grumbles.
I stand on my tiptoes to brush the snow from his hair before looking outside. The briars have transformed into a winter wonderland, and even the river has frozen over. Down below, Astrid and some of the other staff are skating over the frozen pond on the castle grounds, laughing and having fun. Even amongst the curse, there is joy here.
But as my gaze fixes on the frozen lake, I can’t help but remember that shock of cold, the endless shivering, the hero.
“It’s cold and wet, and everyone keeps tracking snow into the library,” Farron continues, brushing the last of the flakes from his jacket.
“I like winter,” I say, trying to forget the icy shiver in my body.
“Everything’s so bland, all white,” Farron says. “The bright red and orange leaves are what I miss the most.”
I poke him in the cheek. “I think you’re being a little biased, Mr. Autumn Prince.”