I throw open the doors of the dining hall.
I sense Keldarion is already here the moment I enter, his presence hitting me like a wave. But I don’t look over at him, not yet. I keep my head high, my pace steady, kicking out my dress with each step as Astrid taught me.
I am the Lady of Castletree. I belong here as much as anyone.
At least, I think I do. My confidence falters for an instant, and I stumble over a partially protruding vine.
The dining hall is exactly how I remember, except most of it is covered in mounds of ice, including part of the table and the chair where I used to sit: the one opposite Keldarion.
What remains of the table is laden with delicious food. Ezryn sits in his usual seat with nothing in front of him. He doesn’t look up at me.
The High Prince of Winter is slumped over, his elbows on the table, hands covering his face. As if he can feel my attention on him, his gaze rises.
I can’t help the startled gasp that escapes my lips. He looks… awful. Worse than he did this morning in High Tower. His hair is matted and wild, shading his eyes, rimmed with red.
But I don’t back away. He doesn’t want me. Doesn’t trust me. But I didn’t return here only for him, and I know that with my whole heart.
Dayton and Farron move to the other side of the table. My regular seat is occupied. The easiest choice would be to sit next to Day and Fare, to hide behind them.
But Dayton was right. I’m his equal.
I walk past Ezryn and grab a chair, then drag it beside Kel at the head of the table. There’s more than enough room.
A beat of silence passes, and I sense all their stupid, stunned gazes on me. I fall to my seat and snarl: “Well, are we going to eat?”
Dayton, of course, lets out a long chuckle. “I, for one, am positively famished.” He begins to load his plate. There are platters of roasted mushrooms, steaming bowls of stew, and baskets overflowing with crusty bread. Fruits and vegetables of every hue fill the spaces in between. Farron awkwardly scoops up some glazed carrots and mashed potatoes.
I glance at Kel, expecting to see him glaring at Dayton. Does he smell the salt and sea? The sunlight that seeped beneath my skin this afternoon? But there’s a strangely vacant expression on his face.
He doesn’t deserve it, but my traitorous heart aches for him to let me in. Let me see behind this icy wall he’s built.
“Guess I’ll actually have to serve my own plate,” I sigh and reach for the porcelain dish. A large hand clasps around my wrist.
“No,” Keldarion says, voice gravelly.
Every line on his face is etched with tension, but there’s something in his eyes, the briefest flash of softness that crumbles a tiny barrier in my walls. My whole focus narrows to the point of his hand on my skin, and it’s like my body is still heated from the earlier encounter: a tightening in my stomach, a coil of tension that threatens to snap.
“Fine,” I say. Let him serve me. Something in me trills at the notion.
While Keldarion moves around the table, filling my plate with delectable fae food, I carefully place my napkin on my lap and turn to the Spring Prince.
He very well could be a statue for how little he’s said or moved.
“Good evening, Ezryn,” I say, trying to muster all the confidence I don’t feel. I will not let him know how much it stung that he walked out after kissing me. “I assume you had a pleasant day. Something very pressing must have required your attention.”
“Couldn’t have beat your earlier encounter.” Dayton laughs as he leans close, grabbing some bread and winking at Ezryn.
Ezryn whirls to me, his fists tight at his side. I must be getting really good at reading his body language because everything about it screams betrayal.
He must realize I would tell Dayton. It’s only polite to tell a fae prince that another fae prince kissed you after your mate rejected you, all before that first fae prince kisses you while his lover, another fae prince, watches. Ugh, my head whirls at the thought. My mouth opens and then closes, and I’m not sure what to say.
Mercifully, Keldarion drops a plate piled with food in front of me, and I murmur a quick thank you before digging in. I’m starving.
All of us, sans Ezryn, begin eating our meals. Marigold had assured me that Papa would be well taken care of while we have this private conference. I’m sure the staff are overjoyed they get to spend more time with him.
I wait for one of them to start this meeting. But none of them are doing a darned thing. “Arg!” I let out an aggravated sound, mouth full of mashed potatoes. No wonder nothing got done while I was away. “Okay, so we’re obviously going to the Autumn Realm?”
Farron drops his fork, and it clatters against his plate. “W-what? No, we can’t—”
“We have to act,” I say. “Your brothers said your mother was preparing for war.”
“Those two have always had wild minds,” Kel says, sounding more like his old self now that we’re down to business. “It might not be that serious. I’ve summoned Perth Quellos to the castle to see if he has any knowledge of this.”
I stiffen at the mention of that name. Keldarion’s royal vizier and current steward of the Winter Realm. Also, the fae man who called me a whore and told me I was distracting Keldarion—before Ezryn punched him.
Ez is looking at me now, and there’s the slightest tilt of his head. The gesture feels like words. I’ll protect you. No matter how awkward things have gotten between us, I don’t think he’ll ever let me be alone with the vizier again.
“Old Perth,” Dayton drawls. “Haven’t seen him since that lovely Solstice Ball. Do you even know how those little rebellions in your realm are going, Kel? Has Perth been keeping you updated on that?”
“Hard to be updated on anything when you’re more beast than man,” Ezryn says. The first thing he’s said all night, and that anger I sensed earlier is back. Maybe it was never for me. His metallic gaze is fixed on Keldarion. Yeah, there’s definitely some tension.
“Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming then,” I say, placing one hand on Kel’s arm and the other on Ezryn’s. They don’t stiffen under my touch like I expected.
The strain from the table dissolves a bit, and I try to guide my wayward princes back to the important matters. “I still think we should visit the Autumn Realm to see what’s going on. Couldn’t we go through the door here in Castletree?”
I’d opened it myself accidentally when Kel had shown me that it connects to the four realms.
“It’s a possibility,” Keldarion says.
“We can’t go back.” Farron taps nervously on the table. “At night—”
“We could use your necklaces to take us home to Castletree before each sunset,” I suggest.
Ezryn sighs. “The lockets work more for emergencies. They wouldn’t be feasible to use long-term, especially if we stray from Castletree. Our magic is already limited as it is, but the longer we’re away from here, the harder it will be to activate the portals.”
“Okay, what about a day trip?”
“There’s no way we’ll be able to sort this out in a day. Then my parents will question why I’m leaving and,” Farron shakes his head back and forth, “what if they ask me to stay?”
“We could ask to reside in the Ember Wing,” Dayton says. “It’s distanced from the main keep.”
“We could stretch the truth and say you need to commune with your magic at night.” I look up, thinking. “Or some other excuse for why you’d be unavailable.”
“That’s not a horrible idea,” Ezryn offers.
“No.” Farron stands. “What will you do with the wolf? I can’t very well go to Keep Oakheart’s dungeon and lock myself up. And it’s irrelevant. Day or night, the beast doesn’t care.” A tear falls down his cheek. “Look what I did to Dayton!”
We’re silent, and my heart mourns for him. So trapped he can’t even go back to protect his realm.
“You’re the High Prince of Autumn, Farron,” I tell him, feeling like he needs the words to be spoken aloud. “Your people need you. We have to figure out a way.”