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.”
