“Do you accept my vow?”
Slowly, she nodded. “I do. That and your apology.”
The land’s magic touched us, sealing it. Kat shivered, rubbing her arms, frown deepening. A profound exhaustion settled over me as that great power ebbed away and with it went the gnawing guilt. Kat’s blood-shot eyes reminded me of the ordeal she’d been through today.
I had no more words left, so I rose and, palm on the small of her back, I guided her to her room and to bed.
Heart full, arms empty, I stood outside her door a long while until there was quiet.
She slept soundly, and so, at last, could I.
46
Kat
The next morning, I woke from the best sleep of my entire life. Every muscle felt loose. My eyes were sore from last night’s tears, but in the morning light, I could remind myself that Ella was alive. A note that had been pushed under my door revealed Bastian’s handwriting.
Asher says Ella is fine. No lasting effects. I hope this puts your mind at rest.
B
It was only after I read it that I spotted another piece of paper barely poking out from underneath the door.
Please, please, please don’t beat yourself up over this. I’ve woken up feeling fine—incredible, in fact. Wonder if there’s something special in that antidote. Think we could get the recipe?
You’d better bloody come out today! No excuses.
Ella—who loves you most, even though you poisoned her.
She’d drawn a heart at the end of the last sentence.
She was all right. And joking about me poisoning her—not angry. I owed her an apology, but it felt like I was already forgiven.
I hugged the note to myself, fingertips relishing the paper’s rough texture… tingling with the memory of Bastian’s rougher stubble.
He’d certainly dosed me up on touch last night.
Not to mention his apology. The most heartfelt apology I’d received in my entire life. I felt like less of an idiot for believing the moments between us in Lunden had been real.
I was smiling to myself when the clock chimed.
“Eleven?” I stared, but the traitorous hands confirmed it. I was late. “Shit.”
Still, there was one vital thing to do first: top up the potion bottle pendant.
After that, I got ready in record time, pulling on woollen leggings so I wouldn’t freeze to death in the pretty silvery-white gown Ariadne had made. Hair clasped with silver snowflake clips and a touch of rouge pressed to my lips, I grabbed gloves and the starry cloak Blaze had made me.
Opening the door, I focused on the magic humming around me, making it small and neat before hurrying out. Ella may have forgiven me, but I needed to be careful.
Bastian was working and would meet us later this afternoon—not even the Solstice dragged the Night Queen’s Shadow from his work. Ella and Perry waited for me in the grand hall, while Ari and Rose would meet us in the city. Perry wore icy blue and Ella pure white, and several fae shot them admiring glances as they passed.
I confess, I dawdled a little once I spotted them, a sudden knot in my belly.
“There she is,” Perry called out and waved.
No backing out now.
Hands clasped, I crossed the hall. “I’m so sorry, I—”
“Shut your pretty little mouth, Katherine Ferrers.” Ella fisted her hands and wrinkled her delicate nose. “Damn it, woman, now I want to hug you even more. You have nothing—nothing to apologise for.”
“But I—”
“I hugged you. I was drunk and for a second I didn’t think of anything except how much I love you.”
That stung my eyes more than if she’d told me off. “I love you, too.”
“Good. Or else you’d be in deep trouble.” She shook a finger at me, then dashed tears from the corners of her eyes. “It was a mistake. No apology owed. Got it?”
“I already gave one,” I muttered. “Not taking it back.”
“I heard that,” she growled as we set off.
We crossed the bridge, which thankfully didn’t get icy even in the coldest weather. Tinkling music that reminded me of frost chimed through the city, and everywhere drifted the scent of roasting nuts and spiced cakes. My stomach growled, reminding me that I’d missed breakfast in my rush, so I bought an icing-topped bun swirled with brown sugar and cinnamon, and ate that on the way to Rose’s house.
Waiting outside, Faolán looked smart in a dark grey coat that matched his steel-coloured hair. He nodded at us.
“Too hot in there with this on, and Rose is dawdling.” He tugged at his lapel before banging on the door. He eyed me, then Ella. “You two all right?”
Ella eyed the giant and nodded, suddenly quiet.
I’d spent so much time around the shapechanger, I’d forgotten that others saw him as this massive, scowling fae. Smothering a laugh, I smiled up at him. “It was a more eventful day than I’d planned, but we’re all right. Thank you.”
Other than that customary scowl, Faolán’s expressions tended to be quite subtle, especially when his beard disguised the movement of his jaw and mouth. But I spotted the corner of his lips rise.
“I knew you’d forget, so I picked these up for you.” He reached inside the door and produced my bow and quiver.
I eyed them, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I really need a weapon on the Solstice?”
He canted his head.
“But…” I gestured at my dress and cloak. It wasn’t exactly an outfit for accessorising with a bow.
“Luckily—”
“Don’t say it.” I cleared my throat and lowered my voice, making it gruff like his. “Luckily, enemies are kind enough to only attack when your outfit matches your weapon.”
“Hmm.” His lips pressed together, and from the doorway came a laugh as Rose emerged. But she was wearing a pair of long knives at her belt and Faolán had his, too.
With a sigh, I strapped the bow to my back.
We bought mulled wine and toasted to “surviving the dark,” since it was the shortest day of the year. Wandering the city, we stopped to listen to singers and watch dancers. In one square, a troupe wearing skin-tight shimmering outfits performed with flaming staves and hoops. I stood breathless as they dared to dance with fire, letting it lick their bodies. That was bravery.
In a park in the lower city, we caught the tail end of a play. The Winter King took the Summer Queen to his bed, bringing a long, deep winter to the land, just as he—the villain—had intended. But what he hadn’t counted on was the Summer Queen melting his heart of ice and emerging, pregnant with spring and all the newness of a fresh year. Different from the tale they told in Albion—that one contained less sex but a lot more bloodshed as the Holly King and the Oak King battled for supremacy.
I think I preferred the version with seduction.
“What is it you keep smirking about?” Ella eyed me sidelong as we left the park, caught up in the crowd.
“Smirking?” I touched my mouth—my traitorous mouth—and pushed my expression to something more innocent. “I’m sure I wasn’t smirking.”
Rose ducked in. “You absolutely were.”