She blinks her big red eyes. “Oh, I was feeling a little under the weather, but I’m fine now.”
“I’m showing them the Winter wing,” Marigold says.
Astrid’s face falls, and she nods.
“What’s wrong with the Winter wing?” I ask.
“Come along, dearies,” Marigold says.
Dayton wraps his arm around me. No words, but his presence is comforting.
The air grows colder, and my breath mists in front of me. I know this walk, every step of it. At first, there’s just a light dusting of snow skittering along the carpet, then the ground becomes slippery enough that Dayton has to hold on to the torch sconces for balance. His other arm is still looped around my waist.
We turn the last corner before entering the Winter wing, and the air leaves my lungs.
Ice has always covered the Winter wing, but we could still pass through it and reach the rooms in that part of the castle.
This is like nothing I’ve seen before.
An eerie, pale-blue glow bathes the hallway. Ice coats the walls and floor. It looks as if a storm has raged through here. Massive icicles hang from the ceiling, their sharp points glinting like teeth waiting to snap shut. The carpet beneath us is slick, and ice coats the ever-present purple briars.
“What the fuck happened here?” Dayton gasps.
“It’s been getting worse and worse every day,” Astrid says.
Then I hear it—the ominous groan of ice under pressure, followed by a sharp crack. My heart leaps into my throat as the sound echoes through the corridor, bouncing off the frozen walls.
“This isn’t safe,” I whisper, gripping Dayton’s arm for balance.
Another fracture rings out, louder this time, and I swear the ground beneath us trembles. My chest tightens, and I’m glad I’m still in my warm clothes from the Winter Realm.
“We evacuated the Winter staff a few days ago,” Marigold says.
I reach for Marigold’s hand, her warmth comforting. “Thank you for all you do for Castletree. At least we still have the Spring and Autumn wings.”
Marigold chews her lip. “This isn’t all.”
“Stars, Marigold.” Dayton lets out a sigh. “Unless you’re telling me of a fabulous party tonight, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Trust me, handsome, this is a party even you don’t want to attend.”
Again, I trail behind Marigold, Day, and Astrid as we loop through the castle’s halls. The curse is worsening. When I touched Konreth, at first all I’d felt was pure animal instinct. It was so deep, I had to dive to find the thread of his soul, to pull that forth. What if I hadn’t been there? What if it keeps happening to the staff?We’re supposed to protect them, but they’re suffering because of us. Because Keldarion won’t break his curse.
The air grows humid in a sickly sweet way. I look up, recognizing the path we’re on now leads to the Spring wing. The blessing in my chest stirs, but in a tentative, almost sad way. I might be able to pour magic into the Spring rose, but I’m only a placeholder until a true high ruler can be found. I know in my heart the blessing wants to return to Ezryn. If only he could trust in that.
“Spring is not as you left it, dearie.” Marigold squeezes my hand as we take the last corner.
The scents of earth and greenery fill my nose, thick and cloying. Plants spill across every surface—vines creeping along the walls, moss carpeting the floors, and blossoms so vibrant they seem to glow in the dim light. But there’s a wildness to it. This isn’t beauty; it’s a warning.
The overgrowth stretches above us, creating a canopy so dense it blocks out the windows. As I brush past a cluster of hanging flowers, their petals snap shut, just missing my sleeve. I flinch.
“Almost like Spring under the Green Rule.” Dayton wrinkles his nose. “Sure none of this pollen causes mind control?”
“Nothing like that,” Astrid says. “There’s no high ruler controlling this. It’s like what’s happening in Winter. The wings feel…angry.”
“We don’t go too deep in here,” Marigold says. “Can’t even make it to your room anymore.”
My heart sinks. My room at Castletree, with the cherry blossom trees and large bed and view of the garden…
