Page 95 of Bonded By Thorns

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I feel nothing.

My locket sits heavy on my chest, hidden by my tunic, and I unconsciously place a hand over it. It’s usually safely beneath my armor. It’s a small wooden square engraved with Spring’s ancient runes. Opening it would allow me freedom from this place, my way home through the mirror.

“We have to keep trying,” Farron says. “For Rosie.”

Keldarion stays as statuesque as ever.

A strange, melancholy feeling falls over me as I stare at the three princes. I was mere acquaintances with Dayton and Farron before the curse, but after twenty-five years sharing the same suffering, we now have a brotherhood unlike any that could be borne by blood.

Keldarion’s parents had been dear to my own, and so I’d grown up with him. I’d thought our friendship transcended brotherhood. We were comrades-in-arms, confidants. Even after the War of Thorns, when he’d been betrayed by the one he loved the most and everyone abandoned him, I stayed.

Then the Enchantress laid us with the curse.

And no amount of friendship could stop the ice from covering Keldarion’s heart.

“Introducing Lady Aurelia Mastiff of the Balsam Wood!”

“How many more introductions must we suffer through?” Dayton sighs. I notice, like myself, my brothers have taken no interest in the parade of fae men and women.

My legs bounce up and down. I’m not used to sitting for so long, let alone being stared at like a piece of meat for the carving. Despite the Winter Realm’s rebellions, the growing number of goblin attacks in all realms, or the fading Castletree, there’s obviously one thing that’s more important: the fact that all four fae princes are sitting right here, and they’re all eligible.

“I need a break,” I say and stand. “There’s no point to even being here—”

“Introducing Lady Rosalina O’Connell of Orca Cove!”

A vision shimmers down the stairs: a long navy dress of rich velvet adorned with sparkling gems. The long sleeves are trimmed with blue lace, and the bodice cuts low over her full chest. An incredible tangle of diamonds collar her neck, and I can’t imagine what sins Marigold pulled to apprehend this outfit. Her dark hair falls in gentle waves over one shoulder, and her face is done up with paint: dark lips and sparkling blue shadow around her light brown eyes.

A strange flutter shudders through my chest, and I feel the urge to shelter behind my throne. She’s heading toward us, a bright smile on her face. Her eyes dart from one side of the thrones to the other, from Kel in his royal blue regalia, a crown of ice and bone upon his head; to Farron with gold dust shimmering on his cheeks; to Dayton with his legs spread wide and hands on his knees; to…

Is she looking at me?

Is that soft smile for me?

I need to sit. The rest of them are sitting. I step back, but stumble over my own boots, catching my armored heel on the edge of the throne. I fall, reaching for nothing, and land with a clatter on my ass.

“Ezryn!” she cries.

As quick as I fell, I right myself, straightening my helmet and trying to lean against the throne as if I’d meant to do that all along.

“Are you alright?” Rosalina asks, picking up her skirts and surging toward us. Immediately, two guards step into her path.

“Let her through,” Keldarion’s voice booms.

The guards hesitate for a moment, then step out of her way. Rosalina gives them a little satisfied smirk and the most pathetic curtsey I’ve ever seen before walking up to us. The others stand to greet her.

“Wow,” she says. “You four look amazing.”

We look at each other and it’s as if we’re thinking the same thing:It’s you who looks amazing.

Of course, Dayton is the one who steps forward, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her toward him. “And you look positively ravishing. A Winter queen in the flesh. Don’t you think, Kel?”

Kel hasn’t blinked since Rosalina first appeared at the top of the steps. His ice-blue eyes are wide, and his nostrils flare as he inhales deeply.

“You’re beautiful, Rosalina,” Farron says, and she smiles warmly at him. Her warmest smiles are always saved for Farron. And why not? His wolf may be the most monstrous of us four, but there’s no doubt his heart is the purest. If only one of us could break this damned curse, he’s the one I’d hope for above all else. The one who most deserves a second chance.

“Your realm is absolutely stunning,” she says to Keldarion. “I feel like I’m in some sort of winter wonderland. Like Kris Kringle’s going to come around the corner at any second.”

Kel surges forward and snatches her forearm. “Who is thisKris Kringleyou speak of?”


Tags: Elizabeth Helen Fantasy