“Caspian asked you that?” I clarify.
“Yes,” Astrid continues. “Keldarion and Caspian were quite close at this point, and it annoyed Perth Quellos to no end. But no one had ever asked me that before, so I just sighed and told the truth.”
I gesture for Astrid to sit next to me on a bench. Her nose twitches slightly, and I can only imagine how painful these memories are.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” I tell her. “But I’m here for you, Astrid. You can trust me with your past.”
“I want to tell you, Rosalina. I should have done so ages ago. Maybe a small part of me was ashamed.”
“It’s okay. I was ashamed to tell you and Marigold about Lucas, even hiding my scars whenever you were around. Deep down, I knew you’d understand.”
“That’s what friends do,” Marigold says, sitting on my other side. “Go on, dearie. My favorite part’s coming up.”
Astrid dabs the corners of her eyes, then continues.
“I told them the truth. Both my parents passed away—they got sick. There was no one else. I didn’t have any way to support myself. I tried to get a job, of course, but people said either I was too young or that my red eyes were a bad omen. So I resorted to stealing food or things I could sell for food. I only took from those who looked like they had plenty to spare.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Perth Quellos was the first to talk after that, spitting that a sob story from an orphan was no excuse for theft. But I kept watching Keldarion and the Prince of Thorns. Caspian leaned down close to Keldarion, and they spoke together in hushed whispers. Then Keldarion stood from his throne, walked down from the dais, knelt before me, and placed his hands over mine, breaking my chains with a soft prickle of ice magic.”
“What did he say?” I ask.
“That I was free to go, and he would make sure I had money enough I wouldn’t need to steal. Perth was furious at this point, but Keldarion snarled at him that the cost would come out of his salary if he didn’t shut his mouth. I remember Caspian’s laugh then—it was so beautiful. And then Keldarion asked me the strangest thing.”
Marigold and I are enrapt, leaning in so close the warm steam of their cocoas wafts over my face.
“He said I was free to go, but he wanted to make me a proposal. He said he needed someone to provide counsel on supports needed for other orphans in Frostfang. And I could have a permanent position on his staff if I was interested. There was a big wedding being planned for him and Lady Tilla, and they needed extra help.”
“That’s how Astrid and I first started working together,” Marigold says. “I was helping Lady Tilla with her preparations. Oh, I do love wedding planning, even with the disaster that followed and the poor dear being left at the altar.”
“I remember hearing about that,” I mutter.
“I should have known the wedding was doomed,” Astrid whispers conspiratorially. “Because the moment Keldarion mentioned the event, Caspian’s face fell.”
“I’m sure he was already madly in love with Keldarion at that point,” I say. Because if I know Cas, when he falls, he falls hard. I turn back to Astrid. “So the rest is history. You accepted the position?”
“Yes, it was an easy decision. I knew right away.”
“How?”
“Because Keldarion gave me a sense of protection, made me feel valued, and treated me with respect. I’ll never forget that,” Astrid says. “I think many among the Winter staff felt the same. It’s why we’ve never given up on our master, even after all these years. I truly believe he could become the greatest high prince that Winter has ever known.”
I take Astrid’s hand in mine. “I believe that too.”
We spendthe rest of the day exploring the market. Soon, I find my arms completely full of boxes for my princes and the staff at Castletree.
“I need some sustenance or I’m going to wither to nothing.” Marigold shakes her voluptuous booty and drags her bags along the snow-covered ground.
Laughing, I agree. “I could use some food. Any suggestions?”
“How about lefse?” Astrid says. “Torvik makes the best. His stall is this way.”
We take off after Astrid, getting closer to the middle of the town where fae are gathered, erecting tall wooden poles. “What’s going on here?”
Astrid tilts her head, long white hair peeking out under her hat. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen this before. Must be for solstice tomorrow though.”
“Stay on task,” Marigold says, barreling ahead. “Withering away here.”
We both laugh and catch up with her. The light is fading, and the lanterns are being lit, casting a bright orange glow over the snow. Although Marigold’s curse is now broken, soon Astrid will have to return to the keep.
I shake my head, refusing to let the thought ruin my final hours with my friends. I can tell we’re getting closer to the food market. The scents of roasted nuts, woodsmoke, and something sweet dance in the frigid air.
