Rosalina
“EZRYN!” I CRY.
But he stalks over to where he’s thrown Perth Quellos on the frosty ground. He grabs the vizier by
the collar and heaves him up.
“I don’t care who you are, Quellos,” Ezryn’s voice sounds like how steel feels, “but if you speak to
her like that again, I will rip your forked tongue from your mouth.”
“Ah, Spring Prince,” Perth says in a high-pitched voice. His feet fight for purchase, but Ezryn holds
him aloft like he’s nothing but the white robes he wears. “I didn’t hear you approach.”
“Nor will you the next time you speak down to the Lady of Castletree,” Ezryn growls. “Because
your head will be gone before you know I’m there.”
Perth’s face scrunches up. “When Keldarion hears how you’ve threatened the royal vizier—”
“If Keldarion heard you,” Ezryn snarls, “you’d be dead.”
With a heave, Ezryn chucks the fae man to the ground. The vizier scrambles up and backs away.
“Run to your guards and your courtiers,” the Spring Prince says and steps in front of me. “Be sure to
keep yourself from our sight.”
With a glower, the vizier straightens his robes and marches back into the castle.
It’s like I can breathe for the first time since going outside. “Ezryn...”
There’s a great clatter, and Ezryn’s armored body sits beside mine on the edge of the fountain. “Are
you alright?”
Tears sting my eyes. “Y-yes—”
Rosalina
But he stalks over to where he’s thrown Perth Quellos on the frosty ground. He grabs the vizier by
“I don’t care who you are, Quellos,” Ezryn’s voice sounds like how steel feels, “but if you speak to
“Ah, Spring Prince,” Perth says in a high-pitched voice. His feet fight for purchase, but Ezryn holds
“Nor will you the next time you speak down to the Lady of Castletree,” Ezryn growls. “Because
With a heave, Ezryn chucks the fae man to the ground. The vizier scrambles up and backs away.
“Run to your guards and your courtiers,” the Spring Prince says and steps in front of me. “Be sure to
There’s a great clatter, and Ezryn’s armored body sits beside mine on the edge of the fountain. “Are
Ezryn grabs my trembling hand. “You can say no.”
I stare into his dark helm. Although his face is hidden, the black glass of the visor too dark for me
to see his eyes, it’s like I can feel the compassion of his expression. A sense of safety rushes through
me. “N-no, I’m not.” I give a half-sob, half-laugh. “He was really mean!”
Ezryn reaches for my face, almost as if to wipe my tears away, but pulls back. “Trust me, I
understand. I’ve been on the other side of one of Quellos’s tirades before. He takes issue with anyone
close to Keldarion besides himself.”
A small smile perks my lips. “I can hardly see you letting him lecture you.”
Ezryn shifts in his seat. “When I first inherited the rule—and the magic that accompanies it—from
my mother, I had no control over it. Keldarion never saw me as evil for my transgressions. But
Quellos made sure to let me know what a danger I was to Kel. To my realm. To my family.”
“That’s terrible.” Before I can think, I reach out and take Ezryn’s hands. He stiffens for a moment,
then relaxes. His hands are huge, the gloves thick and finely crafted. “I can only imagine how scary it
is to suddenly have a bunch of magic powers you’re not sure what to do with. Was your mother able
to help you?”
A moment of silence passes between us. His voice echoes softly, “My mother passed shortly after I
inherited the throne.”
There goes foot-in-her-mouth Rosalina again. “I’m so sorry, Ezryn.” My chest beats hard against
my breast, and slowly, I reach for the edge of the glove. Pull it off. He doesn’t stop me. I place the
glove on my lap and hold his bare hand. Snowflakes fall upon his tanned skin, and I trace a finger
along his calloused palm and fingertips. “But your magic is good. I know it is. Like how you healed
me when I first came to the castle. Or how you used it to calm Farron down. Your magic is good,
Ezryn. And so are you.”
Ezryn releases a breath, a warm, tinny sound from beneath his helmet. He moves swiftly, twisting
his hand now to clutch mine. “How I wish you were right.”
The air feels full between us, and I can tell he’s staring down at where our skin touches. My heart
pounds, and I feel a nervous twist in my belly. It’s so simple, just my hand in his, and yet it feels like
I’m naked and laid bare. Maybe it’s because this small glimpse of his skin is so rare, so vulnerable.
“Ezryn,” I whisper. “How come you can’t show your face to anyone?”
“It is the way of the Spring Realm. Every member of the royal family shields their face. It is an
ancient tradition. The act of remaining faceless shows our dedication to our people. We are servants
to the realm above all else, warriors of the earth. If a member of the royal family were to reveal their
I stare into his dark helm. Although his face is hidden, the black glass of the visor too dark for me
to see his eyes, it’s like I can feel the compassion of his expression. A sense of safety rushes through
Ezryn reaches for my face, almost as if to wipe my tears away, but pulls back. “Trust me, I
understand. I’ve been on the other side of one of Quellos’s tirades before. He takes issue with anyone
Ezryn shifts in his seat. “When I first inherited the rule—and the magic that accompanies it—from
my mother, I had no control over it. Keldarion never saw me as evil for my transgressions. But
“That’s terrible.” Before I can think, I reach out and take Ezryn’s hands. He stiffens for a moment,
then relaxes. His hands are huge, the gloves thick and finely crafted. “I can only imagine how scary it
is to suddenly have a bunch of magic powers you’re not sure what to do with. Was your mother able
A moment of silence passes between us. His voice echoes softly, “My mother passed shortly after I
There goes foot-in-her-mouth Rosalina again. “I’m so sorry, Ezryn.” My chest beats hard against
my breast, and slowly, I reach for the edge of the glove. Pull it off. He doesn’t stop me. I place the
glove on my lap and hold his bare hand. Snowflakes fall upon his tanned skin, and I trace a finger
along his calloused palm and fingertips. “But your magic is good. I know it is. Like how you healed
me when I first came to the castle. Or how you used it to calm Farron down. Your magic is good,
Ezryn releases a breath, a warm, tinny sound from beneath his helmet. He moves swiftly, twisting
The air feels full between us, and I can tell he’s staring down at where our skin touches. My heart
pounds, and I feel a nervous twist in my belly. It’s so simple, just my hand in his, and yet it feels like
“It is the way of the Spring Realm. Every member of the royal family shields their face. It is an
ancient tradition. The act of remaining faceless shows our dedication to our people. We are servants
to the realm above all else, warriors of the earth. If a member of the royal family were to reveal their
face...” His voice pitches lower. “It is the greatest dishonor one could ever imagine, punishable by
banishment from the Spring Realm forever.”
“Wow,” I whisper. “That’s... intense. So no one has ever seen your face?”
“The old laws state that one’s face may be shared among blood, but my family is very strict. Once I
reached five years, I donned my helm and have not been without it since.”
My eyes bug out and I shoot toward him, hands on his knees. “Wait! Do you ever take it off? Like
do you even know what you look like?”
He chuckles. “Yes, I can remove it when I am alone. I do eat and bathe, you know.”
“Oh, yeah.” I laugh.
“And,” he looks up at the sky, “I will remove it in the presence of my mate.”
I lose myself in the way the snowflakes dance over the shine of his armor, across his visor. I
wonder what they would look like on his eyelashes. “That’s kind of romantic.”
He huffs. Slowly, almost as if he doesn’t want to, he reaches for his glove and puts it back on. “I
think you’ve been out in the cold long enough. Shall we go back to the party?”
I look toward the castle doors. Perth’s voice rings in my head: Human. Maggot. Whore.
“Everyone’s going to be looking at me. Judging how ridiculous it is for a human to be here. Thinking
I’m some hideous monster.”
Ezryn stands and reaches his hand down. “You are the Lady of Castletree now. We monsters have
to stick together.”
He’d called me that to Perth. The Lady of Castletree. Tears prick my eyes again and I take in a
shaky breath.
Ezryn stumbles back. “You’re crying...”
“No, no, this time I’m happy,” I say quickly. “I’ve never belonged anywhere before.”
I’m getting used to it: the stillness of his body as he intakes information, and then the quick
movement after. Ezryn holds out his arm for me to take. It’s kind of hilarious, this huge, armored body
doing such a gentlemanly gesture. I can’t help my smile as I take his arm.
We walk back to the ballroom. A lighthearted waltz has arisen, and I laugh as I see Dayton swept
up in a dance with a burly fae man, and Farron has a trail of elderly fae women following him.
Keldarion, on the other hand, sits on his throne, head in his hand.
“No one sulks quite like Kel,” Ezryn whispers.
I giggle before a thought hits me. You’re a distraction. “I should let you go.”
“Ridiculous human,” he mumbles and pulls me onto the dance floor, sweeping me into his arms.
face...” His voice pitches lower. “It is the greatest dishonor one could ever imagine, punishable by
“The old laws state that one’s face may be shared among blood, but my family is very strict. Once I
take it off? Like
I lose myself in the way the snowflakes dance over the shine of his armor, across his visor. I
He huffs. Slowly, almost as if he doesn’t want to, he reaches for his glove and puts it back on. “I
Human. Maggot. Whore.
“Everyone’s going to be looking at me. Judging how ridiculous it is for a human to be here. Thinking
Ezryn stands and reaches his hand down. “You are the Lady of Castletree now. We monsters have
Tears prick my eyes again and I take in a
I’m getting used to it: the stillness of his body as he intakes information, and then the quick
movement after. Ezryn holds out his arm for me to take. It’s kind of hilarious, this huge, armored body
We walk back to the ballroom. A lighthearted waltz has arisen, and I laugh as I see Dayton swept
up in a dance with a burly fae man, and Farron has a trail of elderly fae women following him.
Warmth flows through my body despite his cold armor. This dance is faster paced, and he twirls me
around until the room spins.
“Ez!” I cry, laughing, and collapse against his chest. It’s like an electric shock passes between us as
we touch, and I gasp. I can hear his breathing despite the music and din of the crowd.
He tilts his helm down at me.
“Ezryn,” I whisper, “what color are your eyes?”
“Brown,” he whispers. “My eyes are brown.”
I reach a hand up to his helmet, fingers gliding against the cool metal. It’s like the whole rest of the
world has disappeared into a haze around me. “Brown...”
Suddenly, doors whoosh open and an icy gust of wind blusters over the entire ballroom. The crowd
gasps and the music careens to a stop.
“Well done, Keldarion,” a rich voice booms from the doorway. “You’ve always known how to
throw a party.”
And standing at the top of the staircase, leaning nonchalantly on the railing, is Caspian, the Prince
of Thorns.