I can’t help but chuckle and trot closer to grab her horse’s reins and direct us to Farron. It’s been a week since we’ve arrived in Autumn, and I took it upon myself to show Rosie the ropes of horseback riding.
She was a quick learner, charming the horses as easily as she did all of Castletree. She’s mostly able to ride on her own now, with a well-trained horse on even terrain. I do miss our first lessons, with her soft body pressed against mine on the same mount. Or the time we lost focus and were almost found by a pair of guards with her top off and my hands beneath her waistband… It’s not my fault she screams so loud when she comes—a sound I’ll never tire of.
“Thanks, Day.” She smiles across at me, a pink blush to her cheeks. Her long brown hair is tied in a high ponytail, clasped with a golden circlet. Fuck, I want to wrap her hair around my hand and pull back, exposing her throat, so I can bite and lick my way up to her lips. She wears a form-fitting top that hugs tight to her full breasts. Some laces are undone, leaving a tantalizing hint of cleavage. A sweeping cloak crafted from dark red velvet drapes over her shoulders and hangs off the back of her horse.
She suits the Autumn Realm too.
“I’ll get the hang of this eventually.” She flushes.
“Everything alright?” Ezryn calls from up ahead. He’s beside Kel, both also on horseback.
“We’re coming!” She looks to me and Farron. “Race you!”
She kicks the side of her horse, and Amalthea begins an awkward canter. Farron bursts into a laugh, the sound musical and charming—one I haven’t heard in a while.
“Come on, pup.” We urge our mounts into a run.
As we crest the hill, I’m stilled by the beauty of Farron’s realm. The rolling hills shine with orange grass. A stream snakes through the valley resembling a ribbon of silver. Below us lies the sprawling Emberwood Forest, a chrysanthemum field, and beyond that, a cluster of ancient ruins.
“It’s beautiful,” Rosalina sighs.
“Excluding that nasty frost,” I say, not able to resist pointing out the obvious. A white-blue shine clings to the trees, flowers, and ruins. “Sorry, Kel, but I don’t think your touch suits this realm.”
“This isn’t me,” he growls.
We’ve spent the first week here preparing and gathering intel from Autumn. Niamh seems more at peace having Keldarion where she can see him, but I know her ferocity. If we don’t discover the true source of this frost, she will attack Winter.
Kel’s sour-faced vizier has sent barren reports, noting the creeping frost along the border of Winter and Autumn, but no discovery or theories of its origins. We need to understand how it’s spreading if we’re to have any chance of stopping it.
Today is our first venture into Autumn’s wild realmlands. Surely, there are answers here.
“What are those stones between the flowers?” Rosalina asks, looking into the field of orange and yellow chrysanthemums.
An awkward silence fills the group before Farron clears his throat. “They are grave markers. This was a battlefield during the War of Thorns.”
Rosalina shifts to look at him.
“Autumn forces marched from Coppershire to confront a legion from the Below that sallied out from the Winter Realm. However, during the conflict, there was a horrible mudslide, and it engulfed both the armies. We normally burn our dead, but they were too deep. We planted these flowers atop the site and used markers to remember the names.”
Rosalina’s brow furrows. “Why would forces from the Below march from the Winter Realm?”
Because Keldarion is the biggest fucking idiot to ever rule, and he was dangling from the side of a mountain at the time. Tension feels palpable in the air, and I cast a steely gaze at the High Prince of Winter. When are you going to tell her? But there’s a part of me that doesn’t want her to know. What if she leaves him? What if she leaves us?
“Are you a princess?” a small voice asks, interrupting the silence.
My horse gives a whinny of surprise as a child approaches, staring up at Rosalina. His eyes are the bright blue of a robin’s egg, and he hasn’t grown into his ears, which look two times too big for his face. Tawny hair peeks out from his hat, an oversized mushroom cap, red with spots.
“I’m not a princess.” Rosalina laughs and awkwardly tries to clamber off her horse.
Before she struggles too much, Farron quickly dismounts, and lifts her to the ground. She mouths a silent thank you before they both approach the boy.
“Well, you look like a princess,” he says.
There’s a soft woof, and a brown and white dog bounds out from behind him. Rosalina gives a squeal of delight as the dog licks her hand. It’s short with stocky legs, long droopy ears nearly touching the ground, and an adorably wrinkled forehead.
“There’s no village close by,” Farron says, considering the boy. “What are you doing out here?”
The boy points a confident thumb at his chest. “I’m mushroom hunting. Name’s Flicker, by the way. My old patch got the frost, so me and Koop been looking for a new one. My little sis has a bad cough, and only the luminesce mushrooms help it.” He stops and narrows his eyes, then a bright grin lights his face. “Hey! You’re the prince, right? Here to stop the frost?”
Farron flushes. “I, uh, we’re—”
“We’re on an adventure,” Rosie says, giving Koop the best belly rub of his life. “We’re searching for a way to end the frost. Have you seen much of it around here?”
“Yeah, it’s really bad in the forest and down at the Shrine of Nymphia.” He nods to the ruins down the hill.
“I guess that’s where we should start looking.” Rosalina straightens. “Thank you so much for your help.”
A bright grin flashes across Flicker’s face. “You said you weren’t a princess, but you will be once you two get married, right?”
Rosie and Farron both flush the most adorable shade of pink, and I lean forward on my horse, a laugh booming from my chest. Rosalina only smiles and pats Flicker’s mushroom head.
Ezryn jumps down from his horse. Usually, a giant in armor would startle someone, but Flicker tilts his chin way up, and Koop sniffs Ezryn’s boots curiously.
Ezryn grabs a small paper package from his horse’s saddlebag and kneels in front of the boy. “This is an herbal tea. It may help soothe your sister’s cough. Let it steep in boiling water, then bring it to a simmer. You can add some maple syrup to sweeten it.”
The boy’s eyes gleam as he thanks the Spring Prince, then trots down the hill toward the Emberwood.
“Be careful,” Farron calls after him. “Stay away from the frost.”
“Will do, Prince,” Flicker beams. “And thank you for fixing it.”
Farron’s gaze falls at the boy’s words, “If only it were that easy.”
I’m pretty sure this is the thirteenth mushroom Farron has described to me, no doubt inspired by that little mushroom boy.
Our party split up to save time. Fare and I are checking out the ruins, and the others are heading to the edge of the forest. We’ve left our mounts at the top of the hill and descended on foot down the rocky gully to the ruins.
“Actually,” Farron says, sliding nimbly over a rock, “there are over 75,000 different species of mushrooms in the Autumn Realm alone. We have the largest variety here, but there are a few types specific to the other realms. There’s a particular strain of marine fungi that only grows in the ocean of Summer.”
“I didn’t know.” I spin around, giving him a wide grin. “Is that one poisonous too?”
“Yes, but you can negate the poison with a little lemon juice and…” He trails off, then knits a hand through his hair. “I’ve been talking about mushrooms for a long time, haven’t I?”
“Yes, but now I’m dying for that portabella stew you mentioned.” I throw an arm over his shoulder and bring my lips to his ear. “I love when you talk shroomy to me.”
He laughs, a sound I haven’t heard enough of lately. So what if Farron’s stories have a tendency to go on from time to time? I don’t care. As long as I’m the one he’s talking to.