Ezryn emits a soft sigh. “Yes. He was telling me about his time at the monastery. We came upon a dying tree. He wanted to show me what he’d learned, and we used our magic together.”
“To save the tree?” Caspian leans in, dark eyes wide.
Ezryn gives a breathy laugh, and it’s like I can feel a weight being lifted off his shoulders. “That was our intent, but our magic intertwined and spread through the entire forest. It was the first time I felt connected to him in years. I saw him and he saw me.”
My heart lifts at the happiness in his voice. Okay, so maybe Caspian’s story isn’t so bad. “What were you all doing there?”
“It was a celebration of the Spring Equinox, a small gathering for the High Rulers and their partners,” Farron explains. “Ezryn and I had just been crowned. Kel had yet to take the rule but came in his father’s stead.”
“You brought Dayton as your special guest.” Caspian gestures to the Autumn and Summer Prince.
Farron flushes, but Dayton throws an arm around him. “You were so nervous to ask me.” He smiles. “But Damocles was happy I was there. Made me go berry picking with him.”
Damocles. The name makes me pause. I overheard it in the Summer Realm. If Dayton didn’t attend as High Prince, it meant there was another High Ruler of Summer during that time. Caspian’s words from the ball play in my mind: The drunkard who let his brothers go off to battle alone.
But the memory doesn’t seem to haunt Dayton. It energizes him.
“Hey, it was a better choice than Tilla,” Farron mumbles.
All four of them collectively groan. I’m almost inclined to join in. Dayton had told me Kel had a former great love. Was it this Spring Realm woman? Is that why they all hate her?
And if this was a retreat for the High Rulers, why was Caspian there? It doesn’t sound like he was their enemy at that point.
But something about recollecting this time has allowed everyone to unwind. Even Kel has lowered his guard as he joins in the complaints about Tilla.
What is Caspian’s scheme here?
The easiest way to gain favor with people is to hate someone together. Caspian’s words float through my head even as his lips tell another story.
How is he doing this? Dark magic from the Below? I try to concentrate on the words in my head and push them back. Doesn’t seem like a great way to forge lasting relationships.
Oh, I don’t know, Princess. See how united your four princes have grown against me.
“Tilla was pretty though,” Caspian says out loud, and I’m drawn back to the conversation. “But her hair didn’t shine like polished mahogany in the sun.”
Five heads turn to me.
“No.” Kel’s voice is low, almost gravely.
“She also didn’t have the annoying habit of twirling her hair around her finger when she’s thinking,” Caspian continues, and I feel a hand on my thigh.
All the men at the table are watching me.
“Or,” Caspian’s fingers glide against the thin fabric, and the muscles in my core tighten involuntarily, “have eyes like a golden sunset.”
The breath catches in my throat. I refuse to be charmed by him. I’m not some idiot fae prince. I slap him away, but when I look down, I see his hand isn’t just on my thigh. His other hand is pressed on Keldarion’s leg.
Kel’s gaze is entirely on me. Does he even notice?
Something snaps inside me. Fire bursts in my chest, and I slide my chair back, screaming: “Get your hand off my mate!”
The thorns on the floor burst up, curling around Caspian’s chair, and whip him into the wall.
The other four princes all stand and gape at me. Caspian picks himself up and gives a small laugh. “Good show, Rosalina. It seems that mate bond of yours is really heating up.”
The breath is heavy in my throat and all I can do is glare. Keldarion lunges at him, grabbing him by the collar. “Is this your doing? Did you give her this power?”
The Prince of Thorns rolls his eyes. “Oh yes, I gave my greatest enemy’s mate the power to manipulate my thorns.” He slithers out of his grip gracefully. “Of course not.”
“How is this possible?” Kel stares at me.
“I told you I could control the thorns.” I redirect my glare to my mate. “You didn’t believe me.”
“You couldn’t possibly think the mate of the High Prince of Winter was only a mere human. She’s got power bubbling beneath the surface. All of you are too distracted to see it.”
“Does Sira know?” Kel growls.
Caspian’s face turns serious. “No. I have to have some secrets. And if you want to keep it that way, Kel, you better behave.”
“Then you’ve lost, Caspian.” I turn to him. “I’ll remove the thorns from Castletree.”
He tilts his head. “Rip them out. Burn them. Ask them nicely to retreat. Be my guest, Princess. But if you want this tree to remain standing, you’ll leave them where they are.”
“So you can keep siphoning the magic?” Dayton asks.
As if to test his theory, I concentrate on a cluster of thorns by the dining room window. My awareness spreads, traveling through the briars like a deep breath. I will the thorns to retract. It’s as though I can sense their resistance at first, not in words so much as a feeling. When I used the thorns to help the roses in High Tower and to save Kel’s life, they’d been eager to obey my command.
“Come on,” I whisper.
Reluctantly, the thorns spiral downward, revealing the dining room’s wallpaper and a bright window. Immediately, the glass caves in on itself, shattering. The wall crumbles, stones and bark crashing to the earth.
“Rosalina!” Ezryn grabs me around the waist. He tugs me away, even though the debris is across the room.
I release my control on the thorns, and Caspian clicks his tongue. With a wave of his hand, cords of new vines spring up, threading between the cracks on the wall.
The same thing happened when Kel ripped them out. Somehow, Caspian’s interwoven his enchantment with that of Castletree. I don’t feel any siphoning, as Dayton put it. But perhaps I still need to work on this connection, this magic deep inside.
“Told you so.” Caspian raises a dark brow but then his gaze shifts. “Now, as charming as it has been catching up, I did come here for a reason. Your impossible problem, Farron.”
Farron shakes his head. “There’s nothing I could possibly want from you.”
“This isn’t about want, Autumn Princeling.” Caspian strides toward him, his black cape curling like smoke. “It’s deeper than that. More insistent. A craving. You don’t want what I have. You need it.”
“What are you talking about?” Farron breathes.
Caspian stands in front of him, lips parted as he smiles deviously. “Don’t you see? I’m here to offer you a bargain.”
25
Farron
Is this how Keldarion felt all those years ago, trapped amidst the cosmos of Caspian’s eyes?
How easily he had charmed us back then. Not just Kel, but everyone who spoke to him. Everyone denied it because of his connection to the Below, but during that time, the staff blushed at his very mention and the nobles longed for a scrap of conversation.
And I knew better than to get swept up in his cosmic storm.
I know better now.
And yet…
“What bargain?” I ask.
Kel crosses the room in a flash, snatching Caspian up by his lapels and slamming him into the table. Plates and cups clatter to the floor. “Don’t you dare do this to him.”
“My goodness,” Caspian practically purrs. A serpentine smile slithers up his face as he stares at Kel. “At least let me finish dinner first.”
I touch Kel’s shoulder. He jolts, expression rabid with anger. “I want to hear him out,” I say.
Kel’s chest shudders with his breath. He shoves Caspian to the side and turns away. The Prince of Thorns gives me a wide-eyed smirk as if we share some private joke about Kel’s temper.
“Spit out your bargain so I can reject it,” I snap. The others cluster around me until we’re all staring at the Prince of Thorns.