Bundled head to toe in furs, Keldarion and I walk hand in handout of Frostfang and into the nearby forest of Draumaskógr. Snow coats the fir trees in layers of white, weighing down their branches until they sag under the cold. The dark green of the needles barely shows beneath the frost. The air is still, sharp with the scent of pine and ice, and there’s a thick silence broken only by the soft crunch of our boots.
My thoughts are heavy. Before our walk, we consulted with the other princes and my father. We made what plans we could, putting our hopes in the realms, coming together under the four fae princes—curses unbroken.
Now there is one last thing to do before breaking said curse. I stare up at Keldarion. Just where is the Winter Prince taking me? His expression is unusually soft and unburdened. I believe finally making the decision has lifted a weight from him.
“Are you cold, my Rose?” he asks. “It’s only a little farther.”
“I’m getting used to the cold.” I lean against him.
As we walk, the trees thin, their thick, snow-laden branches giving way to open space. We step out of the woods and into a world that takes my breath away. Before us stretches a frozenlake, its surface smooth as glass and glinting with soft, fractured light. Vast, towering mountains rise beyond, their snowy peaks gilded by the afternoon sun. The icicles hanging from the trees along the lake’s edge shimmer as if enchanted, casting tiny rainbows across the snow.
Above, butterflies flit and dance, their translucent wings catching the light as they drift in lazy circles.
“I’ve never seen butterflies in the snow.” I hold out my finger for one to land on.
“The snivarra love the cold,” Keldarion says. “They fly here to mate, then flutter all the way to Spring to hatch their eggs. Their wings change to pink when the weather warms.”
“I wish to see that one day,” I whisper, and the words feel heavy. The butterfly on my finger flits away, crystal blue wings fluttering. That’s all the thought can be for now. A wish.
Because I could be wrong. I could never break out of my thralldom and be trapped with the Prince of Thorns forever. But I believe what we’re doing is right. I believe I’ll return to the surface, and it will be better than before.
Keldarion’s gloved hands cup my cheeks. “This,” he says, his voice low and steady, “is one of my favorite places. I used to escape here as a boy when the weight of princedom felt too much.”
I look up at him, my breath curling in the cold air. “It’s beautiful.”
His ice-blue eyes crinkle at the sides, and then he lowers. And he keeps lowering, all the way to the ground.
“Did you drop something—” I begin, but my words end in a stammer as I realize exactly what position Keldarion is in. He’s on one knee as he reaches into his cloak and…and… “Oh my gosh, Kel. What are you—How did you—How are?—”
“May I speak?” he says, still smiling, holding a small navy box.
“Mm-hmm,” I wordlessly babble and clasp a hand over my mouth. Him speaking is probably a good thing, because I am beyond words.
“Rosalina O’Connell,” Keldarion says, “the day you arrived at Castletree, you took my heart prisoner, and with you it has stayed. Now, I want to ask you something if that’s alright?”
“It’s alright,” I say, tears already beginning to freeze on my cheeks.
Keldarion laughs and takes my hand in one of his. “Will you dance with me through the stars, through the ages, throughout the realms, throughout every universe? Tonight, under the light of the full moon, will you marry me, Rose?”
My words are a breath, and there’s no thought needed. “Yes to you forever,” I say. “Forever and ever and ever and ever.”
A brilliant smile spreads across his face, and he takes the ring out of the box. “I didn’t have time to get you a proper ring. This will have to do for now.”
In his hands is a small circle made of ice. At the top, where a diamond would be, are five engravings on the ice: a leaf, a flower, a shell, a snowflake, and a curling thorn with a rose on top.
Fresh tears spill from my eyes. “No, it’s perfect. It’s perfect.”
Delicately, he slips it on my finger, and a chill shudders through me. Keldarion stands, sweeping me into his arms. He pulls me into a deep kiss, his mouth opening against mine.
I breathe in his scent, completely enraptured by Winter. “I’ll marry you, Kel.”
88
Keldarion
“Dark blue or light blue? Dark blue or light blue?!” Dayton’svoice rises to high-pitched hysteria as he switches two cravats from around his neck. He turns to Ezryn, who’s lounging on the armchair in the corner of my room. “What are you wearing?”
Ezryn laughs, the sound deep and reverberating from beneath his golden helm. “Another reason I’m glad to be back in my armor. I don’t have to worry about what to wear, even to a wedding.”
