Rosalina
“It’s like another world,” I whisper, gazing at the Draconhold Forge.
A narrow passage has led us deep within the heart of the mountain. Smoldering embers dance
on thick smoky air. The forge is a mesmerizing sight to behold. The cavernous chamber is bathed in
the warm glow of molten metal, casting flickering shadows upon the stone walls. The rhythmic
pounding of hammers on anvils reverberates through the space, a symphony of creation in progress.
“Come on,” Dayton growls, ears twitching. “Let’s find the person in charge.”
Hundreds of fae artisans move with fluid grace, despite their bulky protective coverings. Tools of
various sizes and shapes are meticulously arranged near glowing anvils, which seem to pulse with
their own sort of magic. Glimmering ores and precious gemstones lie in stone containers, waiting to
be transformed.
“Hail Above! The light must not be with me today to find two princelings disturbing my forge?”
Farron gulps. “I know that voice...”
We whirl to see a female blacksmith standing before us. She’s clad in leather armor, covered by a
sturdy black apron. A protective shield covers her face, the light making it hard to see her features.
She’s much shorter than all of us, but the way she has her hammer thrown over her shoulder and the
tight corded muscles in her arm, she’s not someone to mess with.
“Oh hey, Tilla.” Dayton steps in front of me, voice dripping with charisma. “Didn’t know you
worked here now.”
Tilla ... I know that name from somewhere.
The blacksmith pulls off her shield with a long sigh. She’s beautiful, with tawny skin, dark eyes,
and long black hair swept back in a tight tail. “What are you doing here?”
“Ezryn sent us,” Farron says.
Tilla’s gaze sweeps over all of us before landing on me.
“Kel didn’t travel with us,” Dayton says. “He’s in the Winter Realm.”
“Did I ask, Sunshine?” She rolls her eyes. “Follow me. I command the east sector. If High Prince
Ezryn sent you, it must be important.”
Dayton and Farron explain our situation to Tilla, but I fall behind, mind working. Tilla ... Caspian
had brought her up at a dinner we had months ago. She was with Kel romantically, at least for a time.
Does she know who I am? That Keldarion is my mate?
Sickening jealousy courses through me as I realize he’s probably done more with her than he’s
ever considered with me.
Tilla leads us around a corner to an outcropping that overlooks the entire cavern. From this high,
the workers all look like little ants scurrying about. There are deep chasms as well with swinging
bridges leading across. If someone were to fall...
My stomach drops.
Tilla stops beside a grand anvil, throwing her hammer down. This must be her own personal
workspace. “Ezryn sent you. Why?”
“Goblin forces have been spotted wielding Spring steel,” Farron explains. “We’re trying to figure
out how they came by it. Have there been any attacks against the forge or any missing stock?”
Tilla narrows her eyes. “We often hear the goblins chittering from the deep, but they don’t dare
come up here. They burrow out of the tunnels across the Starweaver Mountains, sure, but we’ve had
no attack or loss of our weapons. Everything is accounted for.”
Once again, the immensity of the Below staggers me. I’ve been to Cryptgarden but have since
learned the Below is so much bigger. Tunnels, caverns, and cities stretch beneath all of the Enchanted
Vale. It’s like a whole other world.
“But the goblins had the steel. Steel that only comes from this forge,” Dayton insists.
Tilla’s face hardens. “I’m not doubting you, Daytonales. But they didn’t get it from Draconhold.”
I bite my lip and breathe in the warm, smoky air. “Have there been any reports on attacked
shipments? If you export the steel, perhaps one of the wagons was overtaken on the road.”
Tilla crosses her arms. “Not that I’ve heard.”
Reaching into the bag slung around Dayton’s chest, I pull out one of the swords we retrieved from
the goblins. “We found this in the possession of a goblin. The others were armed similarly.”
Tilla takes the sword and places it on a stone slab. She runs a hand over it, her palm glowing with
flame. Red markings begin to spark across the sword. “This is recently made, from our latest batches.
One we sent to...” She pulls her hand away, the red marks fading.
Dayton opens his mouth, but I gently place a hand on his arm. This isn’t the type of woman who
can be pressured into revealing anything.
She eyes me carefully, then hands Dayton back the blade. “There has been an unusually high
shipment of weapons up to Queen’s Reach Monastery since the boy prince took over.”
“Kairyn.” Saying his name makes me feel like I have shadows on my tongue.
“What do a bunch of holy folk need weapons for?” Dayton asks.
Farron smacks him on the chest. “Probably for the Queen’s Army. Though they haven’t seen
combat in centuries.” He must notice my blank expression and continues, “They’re an elite force of
fae soldiers, training day and night until our Queen has need of them.”
“Prince Kairyn sent word that the weapons they had were naught but rusted toys. It might have
nothing to do with it, but there have been troubling reports of goblin raids in the high mountains by
Queen’s Reach Monastery,” Tilla says.
“Perhaps Kairyn thought reporting a goblin raid on his weapon shipment would make him appear
weak, so he hid it,” I suggest, though even as I say the words, something darker simmers in my
stomach. “Either way, it’s obvious where we should go next.”
“No,” Dayton whines. “I don’t want to go to the creepy monastery.”
A deep laugh fills Tilla. “I helped you, now you help me. There’s a bucket of raw gold at the
bottom of this slope. Be good strong fae princes and carry it up. More than a quarter of our workers
are away today.”
Dayton and Farron both sigh before going to retrieve it. I move to follow when Tilla says, “Stay.
They can handle it.”
I swallow, my throat dry and wonder if she plans to throw me off into the depths of the Below.
The thought is not as troubling as it should be.
“A quarter of your workers away,” I whisper. “That seems high. Is there a holiday I don’t know
about?”
Tilla shakes her head. “If only it were so. A strange illness seems to be passing through the city.
Fever and hallucinations. Saw one bugger drop his hammer and start swatting at the air. Nearly threw
himself off the bridge before we caught him.”
“Was he all right?” I ask.
“Physically, but the gal who walked him home said he just stared straight ahead as if—”
“As if all his wits had been snatched?”
“Yes.” She narrows her eyes. “How did you know?”
“A man at the market said Malice Spirits would come steal my wits if I didn’t put this fish on my
mantel.”
“Hmm.” Tilla crosses her arms. “Hopefully the healers get to it. We’re busier than ever here.
Seems like the Below is belching out more and more monsters lately, and there’s no finer weapon or
armor to defend yourself than what comes from Spring.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I say.
“And you’ve been practicing with a bow, I assume?” She nods at the red marks along my arm.
This morning, Dayton had insisted I practice without my thorn bow. And that, of course, had led to the
string hitting my arm numerous times.
“Still learning. Ezryn ensures that I know which weapons in Castletree’s armory were forged in
Spring. They’re always the best. He told me all about this place.”
Tilla gazes at me. “I’ve heard about you. The Lady of Castletree. I thought you were human, but it
appears that rumor was wrong. And is it true, you are mate to two High Princes?”
I flush, but don’t feel defensive. Instead, Tilla’s curiosity strikes me as genuine. “I’m sorry. I
should have introduced myself sooner. I’m Rosalina O’Connell. And yes, Farron and ... and
Keldarion are my mates.”
“That look on your face when you say his name tells me he hasn’t changed at all. I’m sure you’ve
heard about me and him?”
“Only a little,” I admit. “Something about frogs in a bed?”
She snorts and bends before a large chest by her anvil. “Honestly, I should thank the thorny
bastard for his interference. Kel leaving me on our wedding day was the best thing that ever happened
to me. Our marriage would have been my family’s dream. Once it was over, I realized I could find my
own.”
My stomach clenches. They almost got married?
Tilla stands and crosses her arms. “No reason to get your brow in a knot. He never loved me.”
Kel had a great love, Dayton said once. And it wasn’t Tilla. But then who?
I shake my head. “Well, he told me being my mate is utter torment.”
Tilla meets my gaze and then we both burst out laughing. “He truly has not changed.”
A great deal of huffing sounds behind us as Dayton and Farron drag the gold up the hill, red dust
billowing behind them. “Now, what’s so funny?” Farron wheezes.
“Talking about how terrible Keldarion is,” I answer.
“Oh, can I join in?” Dayton smirks, dropping his end of the bucket, leaving Farron to scramble to
hold it up. “Did I ever tell you about the time he turned my hot springs into a frozen pond? Just
because he was in a pissy mood—”
“You two haven’t changed either.” Tilla sighs, then narrows her gaze at Farron, who has dragged
the bucket the last bit by himself. “Maybe you look ... older.”
He gives a sheepish grin. “We should get going.” He and Dayton start to walk toward the exit.
I turn to Tilla. “Thank you for your help today. I’m happy to have made your acquaintance.”
She grabs my arm. “In Spring, you are often gifted your first piece of armor for an act of
selflessness. I heard what you did in Autumn. Now, having met you myself, I can see you are
deserving of the steel of Spring.”
In her hand, she reveals a metal bracer overtop a woven leather piece, meant to tie around the
wrist. The metal itself is silver and smooth, with the edges gilded in a floral pattern.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Tilla says, expertly tying it around my wrist. “But it’ll last you a lifetime and
stop those pesky welts on your arm.”
“Thank you.” I hold it up, the metal catching the red fire of the forge. My own armor from the
Spring Realm. “How can I ever thank you?”
“You don’t need to—”
I pluck the white flower from the fish trinket Dayton bought me and put it on her anvil. “It’s no
Spring steel, but it’s all I have right now.”
Tilla picks up the flower and gives it a sniff. “I have a feeling there are great things ahead of you,
Rosalina O’Connell. And besides, you’re mated to one of the iciest bastards in the realm. You’re
going to need all the help you can get.”