The front has an inked drawing of a thorn and his name written in handwriting.
“Back home, whenever I got sad, I would write in my journal.” I note her nervous rambling. “Not that I think you’re sad. Well, that’s a lie. I do think you’re sad.”
Only the flicker of amusement crosses his features. He carefully opens the book. On the top of the page are the words: Things that make me smile.
He raises a brow at her, and I lean closer to see what else she’s already written:
Dancing to beautiful music
Fine clothing
Competitive board games
Annoying Keldarion
Caspian flicks his dark gaze to me. “I suppose I do enjoy the last one.”
“It’s good to remind yourself of what makes you happy,” Rosalina says. “You can fill out the rest yourself.”
I take a moment to admire her, the ability to show such kindness to someone so undeserving of it. He’s holding her home hostage, and yet she’s filled with empathy for him.
Caspian thumbs through the blank pages of the rest of the book, then carefully places it on the table. “How quaint.”
Rosalina’s features dim as he coldly disregards her gift. But she doesn’t see his veiled vulnerability: the slight quiver of his lip, the glimmer of tenderness in his gaze. She has reached a place within him I didn’t think existed anymore. My heart rages as I stare into his eyes.
Believing that, seeing those traits in him, is what got me into this mess to begin with, My eyes meet his, and a flash of fear shatters his face. Like I have caught him wide open.
“Oh, what happened?” Rosalina touches the crown of thorns on her head. Except it’s not just a crown of thorns anymore. Brilliant black roses bloom around it. She gently lifts it off, smiling at the flowers. “Pretty. Thanks, Caspian.”
Caspian looks down at his hands. “No… I didn’t do that. My thorns may be the briars of a rosebush, but they don’t bloom with flowers.”
Delicately, Rosalina touches the silken petals. “But it wasn’t me. It feels like you.”
Before I can ask how she knows what Cas feels like, she places the crown atop his head then grabs his hand. He stiffens beneath her touch, but she guides their fingers down to the thorns that still lace along the floor.
“Relax. You’re trembling,” she whispers, then looks up at him with a smirk. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Oh—” He swallows. I’ve only seen Cas nervous a handful of times, and every time it was adora— I grab another drink and down it in a single gulp.
Rosalina holds their hands above the thorn. She gasps as light flickers beneath their palms. “Can you feel that?” she breathes. “It knows we’re talking to it.”
Caspian looks over at her, brows lowered. “We’re… talking to it?”
Then slowly something sprouts from the light. A tiny bud.
“Caspian,” a stern female voice says. Looking in from the entrance to our alcove is a fae woman. A dark hood and a mask shield most of her face, and a cloak covers her body.
Caspian rips his hand away from Rosalina and stands, prowling over to her. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Caspian doesn’t look back as he grabs her arm and drags her from the enclosure.
“Who was that?” Rosalina asks.
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “I’ve never seen her before.”
Rosalina creeps to the edge of the willow tree. I follow, leaning my body protectively over hers. “I wonder what he did to upset her,” she says.
Caspian and the woman stand in the shadow of the thorn staircase. She has her arms crossed and glares up at him. They seem to be in a heated argument.
Finally, the woman throws her hands up and storms away through the crowd. Caspian stands still for a moment, running a hand through his hair. Then he turns toward us.
Rosalina tugs me inside, and we fall back to the cushions right as Caspian steps through the sheer curtains.
“What was that about?” Rosalina asks.
He’s silent for a heartbeat, something softening in his expression as he gazes down at her. “A minor disagreement on tonight’s entertainment schedule. Nothing to be—”
A clamor sounds at the entrance, and Ezryn and Dayton walk in.
“Why are you here?” Dayton growls at Caspian.
Caspian bends to swipe the book Rosalina made off the table. “Collecting my present.”
Ezryn crosses his arms. “We’ll be departing shortly. Have we satisfied our end of Farron’s bargain?”
“Oh, yes. Where is he, anyway?” Caspian asks.
“Getting one last drink,” Dayton says.
“You finally left the little pup alone. You two were hardly separated all night,” Caspian says slowly, then something dark flickers in his gaze. “Well, enjoy the rest of the party.”
Rosalina crawls to me, grabbing my hand. “We did it,” she says. “See? Not so bad.”
Ezryn looks out at the revelry. “We’re not home yet.”
60
Farron
Purple liquid spouts from the fountain like an amethyst waterfall. My head is fuzzy, and staring into the shimmering cascade is easier than trying to take in the party. I have partaken in little drink, but the din of music and chatter, the bright lights shining in the darkness, and the ever-present press of the crowd makes my mind feel muddled.
One more drink and we can leave. I fill the obsidian goblet from the fountain. Even though I haven’t talked to anyone outside of my group, this has been enough socializing for a long time. I yearn for my bed, a quiet room, and stillness.
I turn away when someone slams a hand down on the stone counter, stopping my departure.
Caspian.
He stares at me with an enigmatic smirk, dark eyes twinkling mischievously, dark hair garlanded by a crown of black roses. “Well, well, we finally have an opportunity to talk. I haven’t been able to get a moment alone with you all night.”
“What do you want, Caspian?” I try to push past him, but he stands in my way. He’s right—I haven’t left Dayton’s side since we’ve arrived. Usually, a revel with this much debauchery would have him with a different fae on his lap all night. But he was in a terrible mood. Nothing cheered him up. Not dancing, not kissing. We didn’t even fuck. Day barely drank at all; his emotions ranged from anxious to sour.
It’s my fault. We’re here because of me. Because of this bargain. He hasn’t said it, but I wonder if he thinks I’m a coward for this, for not being brave enough to find another way.
“What do I want?” Caspian puts a mock offended hand on his heart. “Farron, you wound me. You and I share a bond.”
“One I will be glad to rid myself of,” I grumble and make to pass him.
Again, he moves in front of me, blocking my path. “I only wanted to thank you for attending my party. I wasn’t sure you would all show up.”
“We had to show up. It’s part of the bargain.” The thorn collar around my neck seems to tighten at the thought. I resist the urge to scratch it.
Caspian looks down at a small notebook he’s carrying. “Come now, Farron. It wasn’t only about the bargain, was it?”
“Trust me. It was.” I peer through the crowd to the willow tree in the courtyard’s corner. Rosalina sits surrounded by the other princes, and an intense longing to be near her throbs in my heart.
Caspian follows my gaze. “This is how it is for men like us. The watchers and the waiters. The poets and the philosophers. Always on the outside looking in.”
They’re laughing, all four of them. I’m not an outsider; I belong there with them.
“They are men who take what they want,” Caspian says. “But you and I hide in the shadows. Never truly part of the living. So often betrayed by our very bodies.”
“I’m nothing like you,” I say. Slamming the goblet on the counter, I reach up and pry my fingers under the thorn collar. Barbs dig into my hands, and a warm trickle of blood drips down my neck.
Caspian runs a finger through the blood. “I’ve protected you each night, Farron. Do you feel me when my thorns cradle you in the dark?”
“No…”