Further, rumor has it that the family experienced another loss: Kairyn has been banished to serve Queen’s Reach Monastery atop Mount Lumidor, where acolytes dedicate their lives to worshipping the memory of our lost queen
I resist the urge to slink off to Castletree’s library to research it more. It’s smaller than the Great Scriptorium of Alder, but I’ve always found it a comforting escape when I’ve stayed here with Mother. There’s something cozy and warm about it, and the Autumn Wing always feels like home.
Worry clouds my heart as my gaze shifts to my mother. She locked herself in her room for days after word came of Isidora’s passing. On the third day, she emerged, stone-faced, appearing to have aged a decade in that time. She didn’t speak to any of us about it, but I see the grief in her eyes.
“Everything alright?” a deep voice says behind me. I stiffen as a hand clasps my shoulder.
I spin to find the tall Winter heir.
“Oh, hi, Kel—uh, Keldarion,” I peep, then swallow with a dry throat. “I was thinking about Ezryn. It must be hard for him.”
Keldarion gives a long sigh. He wears a cloak of shimmering satin lined with white fur. His doublet is sapphire with glittering thread. Atop his head is a silver circlet with a single blue gem at the center. His light eyes narrow as he looks up to the dais. I know he and Ezryn have been close since childhood, so losing Spring’s High Princess must have hurt him as well.
“It is,” Keldarion says. “He’s been staying with my parents and me for a time now. He does not like to speak of his feelings, though. I often wonder what’s going on inside his head.”
Gingerly, I place my hand atop Keldarion’s, which is still on my shoulder. “Everyone deals with grief in their own way. I’m sure knowing you’re there for him is a comfort.”
Keldarion gives a low laugh, then ruffles my hair. “Such wisdom, little prince. Did you read that in one of your books?”
“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” I swallow. “But there is happiness here too. The birth of Delphia. And if it’s not too bold, are the rumors true you intend to propose to Lady Tilla this night?”
The Winter Prince stiffens, and I worry I’ve said too much. But then he gives a gruff sigh. “I believe those rumors were spread by my mother herself, and since I’ll do anything for her, then…”
All at once, I feel a kinship toward Keldarion, despite us being worlds apart. Perhaps he too is not ready for the throne, and this marriage is another step toward it. My gaze settles on his mother, Princess Runa. Her dress looks crafted from the finest sapphire velvet, and a shimmering crystal necklace adorns her throat. She’s beside Keldarion’s father, Erivor, the High Prince of Winter, who sits upon the Seat of Winter like he owns all of Castletree.
“Just the two royals we were looking for,” a low, deep voice slurs. A voice that travels to my very core.
Dayton stands before us, arm slung around Kel’s intended, Tilla. Her cheeks are flushed, and she laughs at his words.
“I found this maiden all alone on the dance floor,” Dayton continues. “Pray, where be her handsome prince?”
Tillatsks, her long black hair falling from her tight-knit bun. I wonder how much wine these two indulged in before they located us.
“I’ve been looking for you forever, Kel.” Tilla narrows her eyes. “You aren’t avoiding me, are you?”
Kel paints a perfect smile on his face and grabs her arm. “Of course not, dear. I was catching up with Prince Farron. You’ve met him before.”
Tilla blinks her big eyes at me. “Oh, yes. Dayton has been talk?—”
“You should give your date a dance, Kel,” Dayton interrupts, boldly slapping Keldarion on the arm.
“I do not partake in dancing,” Keldarion says. “Besides, I think what she requires most is water and rest.”
Keldarion leads Tilla toward her lady’s maids.
And that leaves me alone with Day. The last thing I wanted to happen today.
“Fare,” he says lowly.
Why does his voice have to sound that way? Why does it make my whole body tremble? One look in his blue eyes, and I’m a ship lost at sea.
“I have to go.” I step away.
“Can we talk?” He grabs my arm. “Somewhere alone?”
“That’s the only place you like me, isn’t it? In the shadows.”
A muscle feathers in his jaw, and I know he’s suppressing a retort.
