The guard stumbled back as the chaos around the fallen guard increased. Magic surrounded the dying fairy, but Prince Norivun’s attention fixated entirely on my face. His gaze roamed over my features as his eyes swam with confusion, awe, and something . . . primal.
“And who is this, Prince Norivun?” Lord Crimsonale asked.
The prince snarled, and then his arms encircled me before we shot into the sky. He moved so fast that I couldn’t breathe. The ground rushed by as the castle’s yard disappeared behind us.
My breath stuttered. “What are you doing?” I gasped.
I tried to see over his shoulder. I had to know what became of that dying male, but the prince flew too quickly, and the sight was gone before I could blink.
I beat on the prince’s shoulder. “Why did we leave?”
I had to . . .
The prince’s hold tightened, his breaths coming rapidly.
“Why!” I yelled again.
But the prince ignored me as he descended over the castle’s inner buildings. Steam rose from boilers. Smoke curled from chimneys. Fae dressed in working gear scurried about. Dozens of servants tended to who knew what within the kingdom’s court as that guard was possibly dying.
My breaths came faster and faster and faster. Too fast.
“Will he live?” I finally asked, my chest heaving.
“Most likely. Murl got there in time.”
My heart beat erratically as that strange throbbing sensation in my gut dimmed. I brought a hand to my belly, wondering if something at breakfast hadn’t agreed with me, but then we were spiraling downward, and any thoughts over food sickness fled.
The prince landed in a small open courtyard, shifting me in his arms as his booted feet touched the ground. I still thought of the dying fairy. Still wanted to know what had become of him.
“Can we go back?”
“No,” the prince bit out.
Snow covered the courtyard and kicked up when Prince Norivun placed me on my feet. My toes touched the powder, then met cobblestones slick with ice beneath it.
Shouts and yells carried to us from a distance, probably commotion around the healer and injured male. But it was muffled, like background noise. I would have barely noticed it if not for my heightened state.
I stepped away from the prince. He still held onto me, his large hand anchored to the small of my back. And his expression . . . He was looking at me so intently . . . almost possessively.
“Are you okay?” I asked uneasily.
His head snapped back, and his expression wiped clean.
Once accustomed to the slippery surface, I put more distance between us, needing to get away from the barely leashed energy surrounding the prince.
I wrapped my arms around my middle. “Who was that other male? Lord Crimsonale?”
The prince looked away. “An archon. Nobody you need to worry about.”
I lowered the hood on my cape and forced my breathing to slow. That strange throbbing that had started in my gut finally vanished completely.
For a moment, the prince and I stared at one another. Two yards of distance now separated us, yet it didn’t feel like enough. An intensity I’d never seen before carved his features into something that made me want to run. He looked so fierce yet also as if he were in shock. It was a conundrum I couldn’t comprehend.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked again because he looked anything but.
He shook himself, and another moment passed, then he tore a hand through his hair and waved dismissively at the courtyard we stood in. “I’m fine, and welcome to the Court of Winter. Although that wasn’t the introduction I’d hoped for.”
Frowning, I studied him. Something still felt off about the prince, but for the life of me, I couldn’t place it. “Why did we leave that guard so abruptly?”
The prince took his gloves off, first the left, then the right. He did it slowly. And with each pull of his glove, he took slow deep breaths. The aura around him still felt so high it was suffocating.
I didn’t flinch, not even when his attention focused completely on me again, but that wild look I’d seen previously was now behind a carefully blank expression.
“Answer me, my prince. Please. Why did you make us leave like that?”
“There was nothing further we could do.”
My eyebrows pinched together. Nothing we could do. He was right. Obviously. Yet the need I’d felt to go to that male . . .
I shook my head. Madness. My life had descended into absolute madness. I brought a hand to my forehead and finally looked at the small courtyard. “Where are we?”
“Within my private wing.”
The courtyard was a perfect square. The castle’s tall walls rose three stories on each side. Spires and turrets that soared to impossible heights hovered in the distance, but the courtyard was too narrow for me to see much of the castle past that.
A bang came from my left, getting a jump out of me, and then several fae bustled into the courtyard from a door near a silent fountain. Trickling snowflakes cascaded over its sides.
“My prince,” they all said, each bowing low, one even getting on his knees despite the wet snow. All of their heads dipped simultaneously.
“Patrice, Balbus, Haisley,” the prince replied. “I assume you’ve been well?”
“Of course, my prince, we’ve all faired fine.” The balding fairy with the round belly straightened. Wisps of white hair clung to the sides of his head, the top as shiny as ice. He hurried to take the prince’s cloak and gloves. “The court’s been eager for your return, my prince. Lord Crimsonale was just announcing to everyone that you’ve returned.”
The prince’s jaw tightened. “I’m sure he was. I know I took longer than anticipated. Has my father been notified of my arrival?”
“He’s being told as we speak, my prince,” Balbus replied.
“Undoubtedly, the king will want to see you within the hour,” the skinniest male added, the one who’d dropped to his knees in greeting. “He’s been asking daily if anyone’s heard from you.”
The prince’s expression grew impossible to read.
“I told him how you dislike mistphasing back to the castle each night, my prince,” the portly fairy added. “That you prefer staying among our fae to better understand our vast continent during your overland tours. The king wasn’t happy, but he accepted that.”
“Thank you, Balbus,” the prince replied.
I clasped my hands in front of me, as my thoughts returned to that dying fairy. I couldn’t help but wonder how he faired.
Thankfully, the prince’s servants seemed caught up in the crown prince’s arrival, and since my illusion-hidden hair didn’t draw attention, and none of the servants had noticed my wingless back yet, nobody paid me any attention.
I mulled over what had happened, but then the prince gestured toward me.
“Patrice, Balbus, Haisley, may I introduce Ilara Seary, daughter of Mervalee Territory. She is my guest and is to be treated as such. I would like her time with us kept discreet. None of you are to speak of her to anyone else in the castle, especially Lord Crimsonale. Is that understood?”