I huff a laugh. The four of us are in my chambers, getting dressed for tonight. Ezryn was the first one ready, his armor grander than a silken tunic, though he’s added a heavy velvet cloak of dark blue. Dayton’s been frantic, tearing through all the clothing options Flavia laid out on the bed. At least he’s got some color back in his face after his visit to Castletree yesterday.
Farron’s been hogging the mirror, trying to get his hair to stay down. He’s adorned his ears with silver caps, and he’s cleaned the scruff on his jaw to a tidy beard. He walks over to Dayton. “Look, there are two dark blue cravats. We can match.”
Dayton stills, then drops the dark blue one to the bed and ties the light cravat around his neck before turning away. “This will do.”
I take the opportunity to utilize the full-length mirror. I’m not dressed yet, only wearing my usual leather pants with no shirt. My hair is still damp from the bath and hangs over my shoulders. There’s nothing different about me, though my reflection is unrecognizable.
Ah, that’s it. I’m smiling.
Looking out the window, I see Mount Rhuvenmark in the distance. Every hour that passes, the smoke it coughs up is thicker, darker. I can only hope the skies above Frostfang will still be clear tonight.
Rosalina deserves to see the stars on her wedding night.
Anxiety has lived with me for as long as I can remember, to the point it’s become an old friend, that constant apprehension almost a comfort. But it’s left me alone today. Today, on a day when I should be more shattered with worry than I’ve been before.
This feeling must be what Rosalina’s been trying to teach me ever since she stormed into my life. What Caspian begged of me all those years ago.
Trust.
In them. In my friends. In the strength of my people.
In myself.
The door whips open without knocking, and a blond tornado barges through, speaking so fast it’s like she doesn’t need to breathe. “You give mehalf a dayto plan a wedding, Keldarion? Half a day? You thank your fine, frozen-solid buttocks that I’m as good as I am! I still did an incredible job, even if it aged me two thousand years.”
“Thank you, Marigold,” I say sweetly, then pull her against me, kissing her forehead.
She stops talking and blushes, curling against me and petting my chest. “Well, you’re lucky I love you and Rosalina so.”
Eldy comes in shortly after, face hidden by a huge, unrolled scroll. “Food, check. Chairs, check. Princes”—he peers over the top, eyes bulging—“notcheck! My goodness, Ezryn, we just had that suit waxed. Stand up, for stars’ sake! Farron, did you look in the mirror? It’s like you’ve got a nest of rats on the back of your head. Where’s a brush? Someone find me a brush! And, Daytonales, have you gone color-blind? Light blue is not in the scheme! Dark blue, boy. Dark blue!”
Chuckling to myself, I slip out of the room to get some peace and quiet while Eldy and Marigold descend on the others. I click the door shut behind me and take a deep breath.
Before me on the wall is a hanging banner depicting the sigil of Winter: seven shooting stars. Tonight, I’m marrying the woman I love, my mate, in my home. I wish my mother and father could be here. They would have loved Rosalina.
“I think I understand now what it means to be high ruler, to be the Sworn Protector of the Realms,” I whisper. “You were afraid, so you built the wall. But it ended up keeping away those you needed to protect most. I wanted so badly to be like you, Father, but I needed to forge my own path. I see a way through, and it means I need to tear my own walls down. To trust not only in myself but in those around me. It’s terrifying. But that’s what it means to be a protector. It is to stand unyielding before the chasm of fear, wielding courage as your blade. It is to step into the unknown, not away from it, for the sake of those who hold your heart.”
“Keldarion?”
I turn my head and notice George walking toward me. He’s dressed in a fine velvet suit with his hair slicked back. There’s a confidence in the way he walks. I’ve noticed it these last few weeks in Winter; he too has found a sense of belonging here inthe Vale. A handsome youthfulness has overcome him, and I can see the echoes of the man Anya fell in love with all those years ago.
“Do you have a moment to speak?” he asks.
I lean my ear against the door. I hear Marigold giving Dayton an exasperated lesson on the proper tying of a cravat and Eldy snapping, “Stop your squirming, Master Farron! Your hairmustbe untangled! And, Ezryn, I see you looking at the chair. Do. Not. Sit. Down. I will not wax your metal backside again!”
I let out a chuckle. “Yes, I think I’ve got a couple minutes. How can I help you, George?”
He walks up, straightens, then clears his throat. When he looks at me, his gaze is fierce, mouth a stern line. “Well? Do you have anything to say to me?”
“Um…do you need a cravat?”
“No!” George crosses his arms. “Keldarion, in the human realm, it is customary for the groom to ask for the father of the bride’s blessing to wed his daughter.”
“Oh.” I can’t imagine my beautiful, bullheaded bride ever needing anyone’s blessing to do anything—stars know she never seems to want mine—but I know how important Rosalina’s human side is, and I want to respect her traditions. “George O’Connell, may I, Keldarion, High Prince of Winter and Sworn Protector of the Realms, have your blessing to marry your daughter?”
George’s face twists into a scowl. “You, who locked me in a dungeon, abandoned my daughter in Orca Cove, and dragged her on dangerous adventure after adventure, wantmyblessing?”
I shrink back from him. Maybe I should remind him it washisdaughter who draggedmeon most of those adventures, but it doesn’t seem like a good time.
