Farron staggers away from Caspian, pawing at the choker of thorns.
“Fare,” Dayton chokes. He takes Farron into his arms, both of them shaking.
I ache to comfort him but the best I can do is caress his disheveled hair. “Are you alright?” I ask.
“Yeah, just dizzy.”
“Don’t worry,” Caspian says. “That’s a common side effect of staring into my eyes.”
Both Dayton and I fix the Prince of Thorns with matching glares. A part of me hates that Farron made a deal with Caspian, but I understand. What choice did he have? He must take control of the Autumn Realm, but how can he do that if he’s in constant fear of his beast breaking free and wreaking havoc?
I know what it feels like to make a deal with a beast to save the ones you love. It’s what drove me to bargain with Keldarion when I was first imprisoned in Castletree.
What fear did Kel have when he made his own deal with the Prince of Thorns? Keldarion pushes away from the table with such fury, the whole room stills. He turns to Caspian and snarls, “You’re done here.” Then he storms to the door. “Perth will be here soon. I will await him in the entrance hall. Ezryn, make sure Caspian leaves.”
As soon as Kel’s gone, Ezryn grips Caspian’s arm. “You heard him. Dinner is over. It’s time to go.”
Caspian slowly tears his eyes from the doorway to Ezryn, gaze glassy as if lost in thought. “What?”
“Return Below, Caspian. It would be unfortunate for Keldarion if Perth knew you were here,” Ezryn says. He’s so much taller and broader than Caspian, but the Prince of Thorns doesn’t seem intimidated at all.
“Haven’t you filled your chaos quota for today?” Dayton sneers, sitting back down at the table. Farron’s head slumps on his shoulder.
“Fine, I’m leaving.” Caspian dusts his shoulder where Ezryn grabbed him. “But before I go, might we have one game of Moonlight Mastery?”
A thicket of thorns rises from the ground and unfolds like a blooming flower. In the middle is a small purple box.
“If I recall,” Caspian says, “you, High Prince of Spring, lost our last match.” He plucks a scroll from the purple box and unfurls it.
I squint at the scroll. It’s divided into three sections by a large T, with an E and a C above each column. Below the horizontal line is a series of tallies. A scorecard?
Ezryn looks between the box, to the door, and back at the box. I sense an incredible internal debate going on within him.
Caspian begins to roll up the scroll. “I mean, if you don’t think you can win—”
“One game,” Ezryn snaps. “Then you go.”
“Perfect.” Caspian sets down the box.
I drift to the other side of the table, and Dayton snakes an arm around my waist, gently pulling me to his lap. The movement is so fluid and comforting, it warms my heart.
“The game is Moonlight Mastery,” Farron explains, seeming to have recovered though his voice is still raspy. “Ez and Cas have had a bitter rivalry for years.”
Cas. That’s the first I’ve ever heard him called that. The princes know Caspian much more intimately than I realized. And here he is, playing a game with them while his thorns throttle our home.
Can you both hate and love something? Someone?
As I watch the Prince of Thorns slowly remove the pieces from the game box, I cannot tell if he has a nefarious reason for delaying his departure or if he’s just… lonely. All he wanted in exchange for the bargain was for us to attend his birthday party.
The game set is beautiful: a circular board made of polished white stone, with small orbs in various colors. “The raised ring around the edges prevents the pieces from falling off,” Farron says. “The tokens each correspond to a different element in nature, such as fire, water, air, and earth.”
“How do you play?” I ask, hoping the conversation will distract Farron from overthinking the bargain.
“The objective is to use strategy and manipulation to control the paths of light and shadow that crisscross the board,” he says. “Players take turns placing their pieces and using their abilities to obscure or illuminate certain areas of the board. The goal is to trap your opponent in a ring of shadow or encircle your own pieces in light.”
I look over at Ezryn and Caspian, both beginning to set up their pieces with great intensity. “Does the winner get a prize or something?”
“I think they may have made some ridiculous bet back when this all started,” Dayton says with a hint of amusement. “But it’s more about the bragging rights now. Which is quite valuable to those two.”
The game begins, and I find myself entranced as I watch the princes battle it out. Ezryn moves with quiet concentration, while Caspian feigns disinterest before interchanging his pieces in a chaotic fashion. Dayton and Farron are engrossed, each offering Ezryn advice, most of which only frustrates him. He gives angry shushes without looking away from the board.
I wish I could just settle into the warmth of Dayton’s embrace and enjoy the evening, but there’s a quiet tugging in my chest. An unsettledness.
Keldarion is suffering.
I slip off Dayton’s lap. “I’m going to check on Kel,” I whisper.
Ezryn straightens and watches as I pass. “I’ll come back as soon as the vizier arrives,” I say. “Promise.”
He doesn’t like it, but he trusts me. He nods and returns to the game. I leave the dining hall and make my way to the entrance of Castletree.
Keldarion stands in the entrance hall, one hand against a pillar, silhouetted by thorns and ice.
“Kel?”
“Go enjoy your evening, Rosalina,” he says without turning. “Tomorrow, we travel to the Autumn Realm, and I suspect there will be little rest there.”
I move in front of him. “I can’t rest. There’s a storm inside my chest that cannot be quelled.”
He grips one of the thorns. “Your bond has awakened. With us being so close, it’s strengthening.”
A defiant part of my heart leaps at that. He cannot deny what we have. But also… Do I want to be with someone only because of a mystical connection and not because they truly care for me?
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I plead.
Keldarion shifts his gaze around the room. Perth Quellos hasn’t arrived yet. When he does, he’ll come through the door. Unless things have changed, he’s the only one allowed in or out of Castletree. Whereas the large mirror by the entrance can take the princes anywhere, the door is enchanted to open to distinct points in each of the realms.
“It seems every day there is another mountain,” he grumbles, pushing away from the wall. “Rebellions in my realm, frost in Autumn, Farron making a bargain, and you able to control the thorns, a power he has that belongs to no other.”
“You will speak to Perth today of the rebellions and the frost. Tomorrow, we depart to Autumn to set things right. Farron has made his choice and be thankful the price is one we can pay together. We are more powerful united. As for the thorns, this is a good thing. If I manage to understand them, then I might be able to use that to aid Castletree.”
He gapes at me for a moment, but that coil of frustration, anger—something else—only grows stronger.
“Is that all?” I ask when he doesn’t reply.
“Leave,” he tells me and begins pacing up and down the entrance hall.
I storm, or rather skate a little on the frosted floor, before sliding and catching myself on one of the side tables. “Hey,” I snarl. “You can tell Caspian to leave all you want, but this is my home.”
His gaze darkens. “Do you really have no comprehension of the agony your presence brings me?”
Now, I’m gaping. “What have I ever done but try to help you?”
“Go back to the others.”
I still, realization seeping into my bones. “You can smell him.”
“I felt you.” He whirls, hair a tangle of matted white waves. His voice lowers to a primal growl. “All three times.”