by May Dawson
Tiron
Perin and I made our way into the palace; it was easy to slip in amongst the crowds, because servants thronged everywhere, preparing for the wedding that night. Caterers and bakers seemed to carry an endless stream of delicacies into the castle.
“The princess will look so beautiful in her wedding gown,” a passer-by murmured. Perin gave me a look, as if she expected me to roll my eyes back at her, sharing her disgust, but my face was blank.
I wondered how Alisa was doing right now. Was she plotting? I was sure she was; she always was. But was she scared? Somehow Faer was forcing her to go through with the wedding plans; was he using Duncan as his leverage?
“I have to get my friend from the dungeon,” I told Perin.
She shook her head. “Madness, Tiron. Just like with Azrael, you’re better off without the extra weight—especially with someone who knows you so well. When you marry her, you are rescuing him.”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t leave him.”
She huffed a sigh. “Fine. Give me your bag, then—you can’t carry the orb for the garden off into the dungeon. We should have left it with Dala.”
I unslung the bag from my shoulder and handed it to her. “No. I don’t intend to wait a moment more than I must to free my parents.”
Once the wedding was over and Faer’s guards had been disarmed, I could finally save my parents and fulfill my destiny, as I’d waited years to do. Azrael, Duncan, Alisa; I’d be able to protect them all and my people. The memory of the dying snow lion rose again in my mind, and I could almost feel its fur under my palm. A whole kingdom depended on me to do what I must.
It didn’t matter if I felt as if I were betraying the people I loved. I could carry that weight as I’d carried the burden of the winter court on my shoulders all these years, never forgetting who I truly was even as I pretended to be just another good Fae knight.
We were making our way through the palace, working our way down the long hallway outside the throne room toward where the dungeons were, when motion rippled in front of us. Servants, falling to one knee.
Perin muttered a curse, so softly only I could hear it, in rebellion at having to bend her knee. But the two of us were already kneeling, lowering our faces to hide them even more; we were both wearing enchantments, but those didn’t always hold against powerful magic like Faer’s.
Then I felt warmth on my face, like the sun beating on it, and I looked up to see Alisa. She murmured greetings to all the servants as she passed, and I hastily turned my face down again, afraid she’d see right through my disguise. It was a good thing I was on my knees, because she might very well recognize my posture, the shape of my shoulders; she was far too clever. But then, that was part of why I loved her.
She disappeared into the gardens at the other end of the hall. Perin and I stood and began to make our way toward the dungeons, but she grabbed my arm and yanked me to a halt, drawing me into an alcove. She flickered her fingers weaving an enchantment to make sure no one overheard us.
“What is it?” I demanded. “We’re on a timeline here, Perin.”
“Yes, we are,” she said. “Except I thought you said you gave Alisa an enchanted bracelet, as we discussed.”
“I did,” I said.
“You said you were saving your mother’s bracelet for the village girl I met the night we rescued the troll cubs,” she said. “Did you change your mind and give it to Alisa?”
“Yes,” I said. “I didn’t have time to buy another, so I had to give Alisa my mother’s bracelet.”
She gave me a long look, her eyes narrowing, and her hand tightened on the strap of my bag, the one that held the orb. She knew I was lying to her. Of course she did—she was the one who’d raised me to be easily deceitful, knowing how much I’d have to lie to infiltrate the summer court.
“Tiron,” she said, “don’t turn your back on your people because you’ve fallen in love with the summer princess. You brought her to the refugee city. You brought her to my house.”
I didn’t bother to lie anymore. “You don’t know who the princess truly is.”
“No, you’re the one who doesn’t know,” she warned me. “She will disappoint you, Tiron.”
I shook my head, rejecting her words. “I can protect all of you. The winter court. Alisa. My friends. I’m going to do this my way, Perin.”
I touched her arm, but she pulled away so fast, she bumped into the marble wall of the alcove.
“Trust me,” I said. “You raised me. Trained me. Now it’s time to trust that I can do what I was raised to do.”
She huffed. “I do trust you, Tiron. I trust that you will follow the plan that we’ve been working on for years.”
She pulled her hand out of my bag, gripping the orb in her long, slender fingers. Then it rippled and was gone. She turned her empty palm up toward me.
“If you turn your back on your people,” she said, “you’ll turn your back on your family, too. Follow the plan, Tiron. Save us all—or you’ll lose them.”
I stared at her in shock. “You’re threatening me. Perin, we—”
“I lost everything,” she said, her voice tight and choked. “I had children before I raised you, Tiron; they’re dead now. I had a husband and a life. The summer court took that all from me.”
Her eyes glittered as if with tears, then she went on, “But I made something out of the ashes. I raised you, loved you, trained you. To be my revenge.”
I shook my head, my jaw tight. “You did train me to be your revenge. But you can’t say that in the same breath as claiming that you love me.”
“You’ll understand later,” she said, and I wasn’t sure if she was promising herself or promising me. “Marry Alisa. Save the winter court. Save Azrael. And save your parents.”
“I will,” I said, my voice cold. “But I’ll do it alone. I don’t need you with me for the spell, Perin—and I don’t want you.”
She had Azrael, and she had the orb. And she intended to use it all as leverage to make me obedient.
“Tiron, wait,” she said frantially. She grabbed for my arm, and I didn’t have it in me to hurt her, but I let some of winter magic unfurl, freezing her in place—just for a moment.
I wasn’t obedient to anyone.
I was the king of winter.
I caught her hand as she watched me, her pupils following my movements even though her body couldn’t react. I gripped her wrist, murmuring the words of my magic, and the orb appeared again, glittering red against her pale palm. The jewel made me think of a poisoned apple, too beautiful to be real.
“All those years, Perin,” I told her softly. “And it took so little for you to betray me.”
I slid the orb into my pocket. If she could turn on me so easily, what would Azael and Duncan and Alisa do when they learned I’d betrayed them? Would they be my mortal enemies forever?
I left her there in the alcove and walked away, alone, as kings always are.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Alisa
The damned enchantment wouldn’t even let me talk to Duncan.
But as servants were doing my hair and shaping my nails and tailors were making the final adjustments to my long-packed-away wedding gown, I called over one of the servants.
“I’ve realized that people throw all kinds of treasures into the fountain in the garden,” I said. Duncan’s bracelet. I had no idea what it looked like, but hopefully I’d be able to figure it out. “Would you have the fountain weeded through and bring me its contents?”
She looked at me skeptically.
“I love secrets and shiny things,” I admitted with a smile. No lies there. “I wanted some little trinkets from our court to bring down in the undersea. Something…interesting. Something no one can buy in a store.”
“Yes, princess,” she said, and I wondered if she was going straight to report to Herrick, as Nikia once had.
But an hour later, she returned, straining to carry a wicker basket full of coins and junk. Sh
e dropped it at my feet and stood rolling her shoulders, then bowed her head, as if she’d just remembered where she was. “Here you are, Princess. Some… treasure.”
“Thank you,” I said. I’d imagined myself diving into the fountain to get the bracelet, to show Duncan that I never meant to reject his gift, but this was the best I could do.
I sifted through the damp, often-slimy contents. There were half a dozen bracelets; apparently, Duncan was not the only drama queen in the Fae courts. Well, no surprise there. We weren’t exactly a calm people.
But as I unwound a brassy charm bracelet from another, three-strand bracelet, the three different shades of metal woven together caught my gaze. I ran my thumb over the metal, and it seemed warm under my thumb.
Hopefully I wasn’t wrong. I should have asked Duncan to describe it; I hadn’t expected it to seem like Fae nobles had been overturning their jewelry boxes into the fountain. I slipped the bracelet on my wrist, beside the one that Tiron had given me.
The two chains tangled together, and I ran my fingertips over the knot they’d begun to form.
Duncan, Azrael, Tiron, me. We were all tied together.
Hopefully we wouldn’t all sink today.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Tiron
Duncan was missing from the dungeon, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.
In the end, no matter how many different ways I imagined this all could end, I kept coming back to one thought. We’d all kept so much from Alisa.
But I trusted her.
It was time to trust her even with my family, my court. I believed in her more than I believed in any trick.
Or at least, that was the thought I clung to, when Perin had just betrayed me so easily, trying to manipulate me with Azrael’s life and the damned orb.
I flew past her window once to make sure the room was empty of servants; they’d be crowding her soon, I was sure, doing her hair and nails and dressing her. But for now, she was alone, and I landed lightly in the window’s arch. My wings snapped in, and she looked up.
The look on her face when she was me was radiant—full of hope and relief—and my heart jumped in my chest. Surely the two of us could figure out a solution together.
“Tiron,” she called, before rushing into my arms.
That wasn’t even my name, but I wasn’t sure how long we had; I’d spent so long being Tiron anyway that I felt more like him than the name given to me when I was still the prince of the winter court.
“Alisa,” I said in relief. “Have you seen Duncan?”
She nodded, her face clouding. “Yes. I think Faer freed him—he wants to make sure you’re all at the wedding ceremony tonight.”
Azrael wouldn’t be. “He wants to make sure we’re all hurt, watching you marry Raile.”
“Where’s Azrael?” she demanded.
“Safe,” I promised her. She didn’t need one more thing to worry about.
Even though I was no longer entirely sure that Azrael was safe, with the winter court.
She nodded, her eyes wide. “There’s so much I wish I could tell you—” she broke off, wincing.
I frowned, rubbing her arms with my hands. “Alisa? Are you all right?”
“Just a headache,” she said, but she looked troubled. She tried to smile.
“Did Faer do something to you?” I demanded.
“No,” she said. “No, Faer didn’t do anything to me.”
“Why are you marrying Raile, then?”
“I know it must be hard to understand,” she began.
“Are you trying to protect us all?” I asked.
Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Her silver-gray eyes were stormy.
“I wish you’d talk to me,” I said, wanting her to trust me, just as I wanted to trust her.
Maybe in the end, she was a queen and I was a king, far more than either of us were two people who could love simply.
But I had to try.
“I’m not just a Winter noble, Alisa. I’m the Winter king. Exiled, like my people. Rebellious, like my people.” I touched her cheek, brushing her hair back behind her ear. Her eyes widened encouragingly. I wondered if she’d ever look at me like that again once she knew the full extent of what I’d planned.
“You came here for a reason,” she said softly. “Concealed who you really were.”
“Yes,” I said. “I insinuated myself into the summer court to take the High throne. My court, my creatures—they’re dying, Alisa. The winter court has to be restored or it will be lost forever.”
She looked at me consideringly. “How do you intend to take the high throne?”
“Ever since Duncan and Azrael and I were sent to find you, I’ve intended to take Raile’s place on your wedding day. To bind you to me instead.”
“To bind me?” Her eyes widened in outrage.
“I didn’t know who you were then,” I said.
“How were you going to take my throne?” she demanded. “That would have made me the queen of winter.”
“Not once there was no other heir. Your brother was going to live out his days in the garden.” My voice came out cold; I’d long imagined Faer trapped on one of the dais where my parents were trapped in eternal misery. Perin would leave Alisa there too if she had her way, but when I was king, no one else would suffer in stone.
Her eyes widened at mention of the garden. My heart sunk. She knew—how long had she known? Did she know my parents were frozen there? Suddenly I wasn’t quite so sure I could trust her at all.
“You always knew I’d end up here,” she said, her gaze troubled. “My wedding was…inevitable.”
“But you don’t have to marry Raile,” I promised her, trying to ignore the sudden warning sense of falling, as if I couldn’t trust her.
Perin and Dala and I had plotted that I should get her to fall in love with me instead, but I’d fallen in love with her.
Of course, we’d also planned a spell to twist those marriage vows and make sure she married me, in case Alisa didn’t find me as appealing as Dala expected she would. Dala had a mother’s faith in my charms, but she still had the practical soul of a warrior.
Her eyes widened. “We—” She frowned, and I could’ve sworn she swayed on her feet.
“Alisa.” I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her up; her slender body pressed against mine. I’d meant to come to her for help, to find a way out together, but she obviously needed help herself.
“Faer poisoned you,” I said, suddenly sure. “He’s forcing you to go through with the wedding.”
“Faer didn’t poison me,” she managed. The words seemed to take an effort, and she stopped, looking as if she had more she wanted to say, before she seemed to exhale in surrender. I helped her to the couch, and she collapsed there; her eyes were shadowed with gray, her skin pale. “I drained my magic fighting the Shadow Man, that’s all.”
“You beat the Shadow Man. Of course you did.” Pride swelled in my chest, and I crouched in front of her, resting my hands on her knees. “And together, we’ll beat Faer. You can escape this damned wedding.”
“Tiron, I’m going to marry Raile,” she said, and my heart plummeted. She went on lightly, as if she didn’t notice. “Things changed in the undersea. He’s not who you think he is.”
“Okay,” I said, frowning. “But now you want to marry him? You barely know him.”
“You and I barely know each other,” she said. “You didn’t even tell me who you really are.”
Those words hung between us, and my jaw set, but she was already going on. “I read parts of my old diary. I loved Raile. He’s not exactly an easy man to like, but he is easy to love.”
I shook my head. “You’re under some kind of spell.”
Her lips tilted. “Easier to believe that than to know I choose someone else, isn’t it, Tiron?”
My heart froze in my chest.
“I care for you and Azrael and Duncan,” she said, “and that’s part of why I’m choosing to go with
Raile beneath the waves. You’ll be safe. I’ll be happy. All will be well, Tiron.”
She touched my face gently, her palm caressing my skin. She smiled sadly up at me as if she hadn’t heard a damn thing I’d said—or as if she was choosing to ignore it all.
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from her face. “No. I just told you, the winter court is dying. That won’t be well.”
Either she was enchanted and she couldn’t help me fight against Faer and Raile, or she didn’t want to.
Either way, it was clear what I needed to do.
I’d marry the princess.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Alisa
I kept testing my magic frantically, hoping that it would spark back to life. Even when the servants were pinning my hair up elaborately and helping me dress, I felt so alone. I kept seeing Duncan’s expression when he caught me kissing Raile. Tiron’s face as the enchantment made me reject him. And Azrael—Tiron said he was in danger.
I had to find a way to protect them all—and their courts.
Herrick came to get me for the wedding ceremony that afternoon. He dismissed the servants, then wandered around the room as I leaned against the windowsill. The sea yawned below, bright blue and deep and shimmering under the sun. Maybe I should just throw myself out the window, but I knew I’d never do that.
I’d fight until the bitter last.
“Any final words of wisdom for me, Father?” I asked. “For a happy and fruitful marriage?”
“No,” he said, turning back to me with his hands tucked behind his back. “You don’t particularly deserve any happiness, anyway. I worry you’ll be happier with Raile than you deserve—he always did love you after all, the fool.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m sorry for us both that you were such a disappointment. I could have told you at the beginning that I’d win at the end, and spared us both all this trouble.”
“Well, I like for things to be interesting,” I told him. And I kicked your ass on the Creepy Shadow Man front. But I didn’t want to remind him that I could be a formidable opponent.
