“But if we repair it and it’s stolen,” Rosalina says, “Sira could gain control of her monsters again.”
“That is a risk.”
Rosalina takes a deep breath. “Keep Wolfhelm still echoes with your father’s decrees.”
“I received my blessing from my father during the War of Thorns. The war that started because I trusted Caspian. Even if I tore down the wall or opened the gate, my people would not come.”
“You don’t know that, Kel.” Rosalina twists to look me in the eye.
“I’ve made mistake after mistake. When we tried to host a ball here, Caspian intruded upon it. When I finally caught Perth Quellos, a traitor, he escaped.”
“We don’t give up, Keldarion. The people of Winter still need you, and you can prove you’re here for them. Right now, you stand in Keep Wolfhelm, rallying the Kryodian Riders and the Tundrafolk. If you were to break your curse, reveal your true po?—”
“I know what we need to do.” I sit up.
Rosalina sighs. “And what is that?”
“We must fortify our defenses. The underfae experienced an incredible loss when their army fell with Voidseal Bridge, but ifwe have learned anything about Sira and her allies, they’ll find another way to regroup. But we have a way to defeat them.”
“What are you thinking?” Rosalina raises a brow.
I stare out at the horizon, but my mind’s eye drifts back to Frostfang, to the workshop. “We must give your father enough time to restore the rose. I must finish my parents’ mission. If we can gain control over Sira’s goblin army, there may be a way. Winter must stand in the interim.”
Rosalina says nothing, but her gaze is faraway too. I realize these last few days, everyone has been asking about me, how I’m coping with my grief, or asking about Ez’s newfound power or Dayton’s and Farron’s wounds.
But has one of us stopped to ask how she is?
“Rosalina,” I whisper and put my hand over her heart, “how are you? In here?”
She takes a stuttering breath, and I can see how hard she’s struggling to keep her emotions at bay.
“Rose, it’s okay.”
A tear drips down her face. “Hiding behind Frostfang’s walls doesn’t feel right. But waging war against the Below feels even worse. I hate the idea of using this rose to manipulate the minds of anything, even goblins. But if we don’t do something, we’re sitting ducks for Sira to pick off.” The tears freeze into glittering diamonds on her cheeks. “Kel, I’m so confused.”
I wish I could take away her sorrow, whisk her away so the horrors of the world couldn’t find us. But all I can do is wrap her tighter in my arms. “There’s one more thing I’m going to do. This one inspired by you.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I rise, holding Rosalina tight in my arms. Something akin to hope flutters in my chest. There might be a way to unite Winter yet.
“Kel?”
“Yes?”
“It’s not true, what you said before,” she whispers. “Irahn may have been the last of your blood, but he’s not the last of your family. I’m here for you. We’re all here for you.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I know, my Rose.”
And I refuse to lose them the way I lost my blood.
46
Rosalina
Snowflakes drift lazily from the slate-colored sky, the airthick with the scent of spiced cocoa and crisp frost. My boots crunch against the packed snow as Astrid, Marigold, and I step into the bustling heart of Frostfang’s marketplace, the lantern-lit stalls arranged in a winding maze through the streets. The whole square shimmers under the glow of enchanted ice crystals, strung like stars from wooden archways.
