“Missed the storm,” I’d said lightly. It seemed so strange to me, after the turbulence of the night before, how there could barely be a breeze.
Papa smiled warmly. “Eh, the storm always passes.”
The storm always passes.That’s what it’s like now, morning light filtering in through the windows of Castletree. Last night had been a storm. We’d blown and blustered and raged.I’draged.
But now my room is so silent, I can almost hear the soft brush of the cherry blossoms hitting my floor. After I got the letter from Papa, I’d told everyone to leave me alone. Farron went to the library, and the rest of the princes went to their respective chambers.
My heart aches for each of them, for the sorrow in all the things we’d said.
A chill passes over me, and I pull my blankets up to my nose. Then I see the ice cracking beneath my door.
“Kel?”
Slowly, the door opens and the Prince of Winter stands in the entranceway.
“Come in,” I say.
He does.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“I’m managing,” he says, then his icy gaze narrows as he takes me in. “But you’re not.”
“I’m … I’m…” I start, but I can’t even get the words out before a sob rips from me.
Kel lies down on the bed, and I clutch at him as he wraps me in his strong embrace.
I’d told them I needed to be alone, but the solitude had only turned me numb. Kel pats my hair as tears cascade down my cheeks. Not soft, delicate tears, but a full-out ugly sob. I curl into his chest, hands clasping his shirt, staining it with my tears.
And I let his words, spoken in that deep, gravelly voice of his, sink into me. “Your father will be okay. As soon as we get the news that Dom and Billy have brought him back to Coppershire, we can visit him.”
“Knowing Papa, he probably overindulged in some strange fae berries or something,” I mumble when I find my voice again.
Keldarion gives a light chuckle. “If his spirit is half as strong as yours, then he will be fine.”
“Where do you think I got it from?” I say, a smile forming on my lips.
He tilts his chin down, tangles of white locks falling across his brow.
“I’ve made a right mess of your shirt,” I say, patting the tear-soaked fabric.
He grabs my wrist and brings it to his lips. “Don’t trouble yourself.”
A flutter runs through me at his affection, and I hate that I’m not sure how long it’s going to last. We’ve both been trying to keep our distance, but we’ve fallen back here, in each other’s arms.
But now I know the truth, why he’s kept away from me. My fingers slip to the V in his shirt. The absence of his snowflake necklace is startling.
“Is Sira going to come for us?”
“I don’t think so. Even in the Below, she wouldn’t have dared to kill all of us,” Keldarion says. “She could not hold all the realms presently. Though her intent is clear, if the others don’t break their curses soon, we may not have the strength to protect Castletree. And now you understand why I cannot.”
“I won’t say you should have told me,” I whisper. “Some secrets are so close to the heart that it feels like we have to rip the entire thing out just to bear them.”
“Like the scars on your arm,” Keldarion says lowly.
I nod, feeling new tears well. “When you first saw my scar, I felt the pain of it all over again, every mark Lucas made. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you, Kel. I’m so sorry.”
He takes a long breath. “No, you should have known. I should have told the others years ago, but—”
