Caspian turns to me. “Did she tell you?”
“Oddly enough, it was her faith in you that made me believe it.”
A strange expression passes across Caspian’s face, and he turns away, kicking the shallow water. “Let’s just say what happened here would have happened a long time ago without my help.”
Farron grabs Caspian’s arm. “Why help Castletree, and then betray me? Why attack my realm? Whose side are you on?”
“My own side,” Caspian snarls. “For the moment, I don’t want your stupid tree to fall. Is that not good enough for you?”
“It’s good enough for now,” I say.
Dayton lets out a bitter laugh. “Maybe it’s good enough for you, Kel. I didn’t realize we were trying to relive the War of Thorns. Don’t you remember what happened last time you two allied?”
Caspian slides behind me as I advance on Dayton. “Weren’t you listening, Daytonales? Our home would be destroyed, our curses forever bound to us, the roses wilted, if it weren’t for Caspian. So be very careful with your next words.”
A storm flares in his eyes, but then a smile curves up his face. “Answer me this, Kel. Where’s Ezryn? I bet he doesn’t agree with your little arrangement, either.”
“Ezryn has made his choice, as must you all,” I growl. “Tomorrow, once everyone has rested, we will restore our roses. Then, we need to forge a plan. Meet at the High Tower tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, master,” Dayton sneers and stalks away.
Farron gives a wary look between me and Caspian, then follows Dayton.
A moment after they leave, Caspian snakes around me. He puts his thumbs into my belt and looks up at me through dark lashes, his lavender eyes sparkling. “Thank you, Kel.”
Dying briars lie among the stone, but living purple ones still writhe and twist around the entrance hall, all throughout Castletree. All throughout my room. I cup his cheek with my palm, seeing it redden beneath my touch.
“No, Cas,” I say. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER 20
Rosalina
Itake a deep breath, soaking in the familiar scents of old books, candles long burned down to the wick, and mahogany furniture. Astrid had left me to settle in my room, but after I’d bathed and changed, it felt too empty, so I’d followed the pull to Farron’s room instead. I needed something to ground me, to tether me back to the earth. My bond led me here.
I sink to my knees at the foot of his bed and rest my forehead against the wooden frame. A position of surrender, but surrendering to what? My breath comes ragged from my throat, and I can’t seem to get a proper lungful. It’s all too much. I’ve been pulled from the watery monotony of my cell into the light, and my eyes can’t adjust.
Dayton has a mate. Someone who’s notme. Everything that’s been thrown at us, I’ve faced head on. I always believed we could do this together. But this … This isn’t something I can fight and I don’t know if I have the strength to face it.
Silent tears run down my cheeks. How could I lose control of myself? The Summer Wing, the home of the Summer staff who can’t return to Hadria, is gone. Because of my selfish heart. Every step I’ve taken has been wrong. My love has only ever been a burden to Dayton.
How can I even begin to imagine rising from the floor? Where do I go from here? Keldarion is still bound by his bargain with Caspian, and both refuse to bend. My father is sick, and I haven’t seen him in so long. Heneedsme, and I can’t even rise from the floor. I scratch at the skin of my chest. My other mate bond is so quiet, so distant.Where are you, Ezryn?I losthim, I lost my mate. He could be hurt or scared or dying and heleftme …
A choked sob escapes me, and I hug my arms across my body to try to keep myself together. I should be grateful. I was rescued from prison. Dayton can break his curse. I’m back home …
So why are the pieces of me so jagged?
“Rosie.”
A voice echoes in the room, and I turn.
Farron stands in the doorway. I catch his gaze, and in that single, lingering look, hope flashes back in my heart.
“Fare.”
I remember what I used to think of him, back when I’d first come to Castletree. Like he had waltzed straight out of a book of fairytales. He looks like that now, wearing a vest woven with threads of russet and burgundy. Elaborate patterns of acorns and oak are stitched into the fabric. His cravat is perfectly tied and tucked into the vest, a brilliant amber. The fitted chestnut brown trousers are tucked into tall leather boots, embellished with golden filigree. One of his pointed ears is adorned with a golden ear cuff, intricately designed to resemble tiny leaves and vines. His tousled auburn hair falls around it.
Yes, he still looks like that fairytale prince. But now, I know that when he laughs, he tilts his head back so far, his reading glasses can slip right off his face. Or he has the habit of falling asleep in the library, and I’ll find him with ink smeared on his cheek. Or how when he’s worried, a wrinkle forms on the inside edge of his right eyebrow, but not his left one.
