The name of my brother fuels my anger further. I swing wildly, my vision narrowing to the points of my swords and the infuriatingly serene expression on Justus’s face.
“I am not bending to his will!” I shout.
He sidesteps my next attack, his trident catching my blades and twisting them out of my grip. In an instant, I’m disarmed, and Justus is standing over me, the tip of his trident pressed against my chest.
“Enough.” His gaze bores into mine. “You’re not fighting me, Dayton. You’re fighting yourself.”
I slump to my knees, panting, the weight of his words hitting me harder than any blow. The anger seeps out.
“You can’t let your brother’s will control you,” Justus continues, his voice gentler now. “You must forge your own path, make your own choices. Tell me, do you wish to see this Autumn Prince again?”
I close my eyes, the heat pressing down on me, and try to steady my breath. Farron’s face flashes in my mind, and with it,a thousand conflicting emotions. Anger, desire, confusion. But beneath it all, something stronger. Something real. “Yes.”
Justus kneels beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You did not wish to court the Autumn Prince because you thought that path would bring you misery. But by denying yourself now, you are in misery.”
I grind my teeth together. “You’re right. You’ve given me an idea.”
“Daytonales, why do I think you are not yet understanding my counsel?”
He only calls me by my full name when he thinks I’m being particularly annoying. I flash him a grin. “When have I ever done what I’m told?”
6
Farron
Ipace back and forth across my guest room in Soltide Keep, unable to settle. My thoughts tumble too fast for my mind to make sense of them. Pathetic. Completely and utterly hopeless.
How could I let myself be caught in the Prince of Summer’s undertow?
He hadn’t been Daytonales last night. He’d been Day, effervescent and explosive. Trapped sunlight in the body of a mortal.
And I was stupid enough to think he’d have any interest in me.
If my family had their way, I’d be married off to a boring, snobby crybaby.
Daytonales hadn’t seen me since I was a child, but that was enough for him to get a read on me. Even he, the brutish third son, knows I’m not cut out for anything. Especially not being High Prince.
With a groan, I collapse onto my bed, face down. The silken sheets are cool despite the scorching breeze that drifts in through the open balcony doors. How will I attend any of theother royal gatherings my mother and Damocles have planned for our two families? I can’t imagine going to dinner, sitting across from Dayton as he winces, thinking how he’d kissed such a boring, snobby crybaby.
Ugh. This was all so much easier when he was the hideous toad who ruined my book.
“Hey! Fare?”
I jerk up. That voice…
“Hell-ooo? Come to the balcony!”
Day. It’s Daytonales. Ithasto be. His voice seems to reverberate in the beat of my heart.
“I know you’re up there! I saw you pacing a few minutes ago.”
My body moves of its own volition, and I scramble out the doors, sliding across the marble floor of the balcony and catching myself on the railing.
Down below, Day stands on the rocks that separate the keep from the sea. Even from two stories up, I can still make out the intensity in his gaze.
A smile lights up his face when he sees me. “Fare.”
I am helpless but to drink him in. I see why people say he’s the spitting image of his eldest brother, Damocles. At first glance, the resemblance is obvious, and I could kick myself for not noticing it last night. But I was drunk on sea air and rebellion.
