He flushes, then crosses his arms. “Alright, what season is your favorite? The one you liked most as a child? Don’t let any of us cloud your judgment.”
“You’re going to think I’m lying, but I’m not. I love them all. I was literally the kid who wrote down all four on my school assignments.” The snow falls in huge, graceful flakes. “Take winter, for example. You say it’s bland, but have you ever noticed the pink shade of snow during a sunrise? Or how berries never look as red as when they’re surrounded by white? The pleasure of a warm fire on cold, wet feet? And it’s plenty cozy to read by.”
Which is what the two of us had been doing: bringing our books to the gigantic library fireplace and staying right until sunset when Farron had to return to the dungeon. I only fell asleep in front of that fire twice, both times in which I was embarrassedly dragged back to my room by a certain annoying icy wolf.
“Then comes spring with the flowers and the rain, and it’s like you remember how beautiful life can be. Clear, blue skies and bright green trees and flowers, and the way your heart lifts when you walk around. It’s a time for new beginnings,” I say. “There’s summer, with sand between your toes and bright mornings and days so long you think it’ll never be night. Summer, when the sun on your face feels like the warmest kiss in the world…” I flutter open my eyes to see Farron looking at me with a soft expression.
“Yeah, I like summer too.”
“Then we get to autumn.” I walk around him. “It’s okay, I guess.”
“Hey now.” He grips me by my sleeve and spins me around. “You can’t gush about the others and leave out fall.”
He doesn’t let go of my arm, and I’m left staring up into the particular gold of his eyes. “You’ve already mentioned the color of the leaves, but there’s the way they crunch under your boots. The smell of the forest; mushrooms popping up, and fields filled with pumpkins. Gray foggy mornings, and clear nights with moons as bright as the sun.”
“Some people say autumn is the death of life,” Farron whispers.
“That’s not true,” I whisper, placing my hand on the side of his face, “and you know it. Autumn reminds us that everything is temporary, that moments must be savored. Autumn is beautiful.”
“Your eyes,” Farron says.
“What?”
“Your eyes are like a sunrise over the golden hills in the Autumn Realm.”
“Do you miss your home?”
Farron swallows and his eyes drift faraway, then he says softly, like it’s a secret, “Perhaps not as much as I should.”
Something tightens in my heart, and I don’t need him to explain. I step away. “When I first arrived, I wanted to return more than anything.”
I feel Farron trail behind me like a shadow. “And now?”
“Now…” I breathe. “I’m always so worried about my father. But I trust Keldarion when he says he got Papa home safely.”
“Kel wouldn’t hurt him,” Farron assures.
“Though I can’t help but wonder if he’s looking for me right now. What if he tries to come back through the rosebush—”
Farron slides an arm around my back, pulling me against him. “The Vale is mysterious, and the paths through are always changing. I’m sure your father is safe in Orca Cove.”
His words fill me with relief; the last thing I’d want is for Papa to rush back here and find the goblins first. “Everything is so complicated.”
Farron gives me a sad smile. “I understand more than you know. For twenty-five years, all I’ve concerned myself with is breaking the curse. I don’t have to wonder if I’m strong enough to rule a whole realm or think about how my decisions affect an entire nation. It’s my parents’ problem again. But I guess that thinking is the cowardice that got me here to begin with.”
“Farron, don’t say that! It wasn’t your fault.”
The door to the library bursts open, and I break away from Farron. The entire staff knows exactly what went down with me and Dayton, and I don’t need any more gossip circulating.
Mandaria and Paavak waltz in carrying their stack of lists. Both staff from the Winter Realm, they have been my principal assets in planning this ball. Marigold informed me they had been the event coordinators before the curse. Mandaria brought the brain and Paavak, self-proclaimed, brought the sparkle.
I leave Farron and walk over to them for a detailed update on the ball’s progress. It’s been gathering quite the interest and excitement from fae in the Winter Realm.
“Honestly, they’ve had little to celebrate in a long while,” Mandaria says, tucking her long blond hair behind a pointed ear. “It may even help calm the riots. It’ll be good for them to have something to look forward to.”
“I agree,” I say.
Mandaria casts a longing look out the window at the snow. At night, she transforms into a penguin, so I can only imagine she’s loving this cold weather.