“And his opponent?” My mother pauses, lifting the glass sword. “A prince of winter, with a heart of pure ice.”
The tip of the glass sword circles the crowd, and a hint of trepidation grows within me. And then the sword pauses, pointing directly toward me.
Every inch of me goes cold.
“Vi?” Finn growls under his breath.
I have two knives. I can maybe ride the ley line from this distance. But we’ll never escape—
“Come forth, my winter prince,” my mother calls, and as the crowd claps and cheers, I realize it wasn’t me after all. It’s him.
Pure, fucking coincidence. Or maybe my mother’s interest in any tall, broad-shouldered male she doesn’t recognize.
I’m going to be sick.
He can’t refuse. To refuse would bring certain scrutiny.
This is a fucking disaster.
“It’s a mock battle. You’re supposed to lose. Don’t kill him!”
“Lose?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes.” I push him toward the sword.
Finn staggers forward, his heavy black velvet cloak obscuring the breadth of his shoulders. A pair of laughing ladies tear it from him, and another pair lay hands to his shirt. Even behind the mask, I can tell his eyebrows just arched.
“Vi?” Thiago links with me as I pretend to clap and cheer, my heart rabbiting in my chest. “What’s wrong? I can sense your fear.”
“They’ve crowned Finn the Prince of Winter.” I explain everything as succinctly as I can. “Can he control himself?”
Or am I going to need to rein in his Sylvaren tendencies?
“I won’t send him into a battle unless necessary, but a minor skirmish is fine. He’s stricter with himself than he needs to be.”
“Once the fight is done, Finn will be overwhelmed with ladies. He’ll have lost the battle, but he’ll still be a prince for the night, and they’ll all want to share in the attention.”
“So you’re alone?” Thiago demands.
I wince. “You know the answer to that.”
Finn shoots me a frustrated glance as the Prince of Summer attacks him. Every inch of him trembles with the urge to lunge forward and end this foolish fight, and I don’t think he even knows how to lose.
“Get out,” Thiago says shortly. “Finn can rejoin us later.”
“No.” The castle is right there. “This is our best chance. The castle won’t ever be so unguarded again, and nor will my mother be parted from her crown!”
He’s silent, but I swear he’s cursing under his breath. “Head directly toward the castle. I’ll meet you there.”
“What? You can’t come into the woods! My mother is here. She will sense your magic and—”
“Then maybe she and I can have the reckoning we’ve been dancing toward for thirteen years.”
I can’t breathe. This is my mother’s seat of power. She’s twice as dangerous here, where the woods yearn to answer her every whim.
“I’m not asking, Vi,” he says with a silky whisper. “Either you come back to me right now, or I will come for you.”
This is our only chance. I have to take the risk. “Remind Finn that he’s supposed to lose. And tell him not to bed any of the women wearing blue. They’re naiads, and they’ll try and drown him in a stream once they’re done with him. Veil yourself and I’ll meet you by the eastern walls. Do not use your magic unless necessary.”
Pacing the shadows, I wait for Thiago as the clash of swords ring in the distance. The fight should have been over by now, and I hope against hope that Finn’s Sylvaren blood hasn’t roused.
Silence falls.
A shiver runs down my spine—the type of shiver that everything that has ever realized it is prey feels.
I slowly turn around as Thiago steps out of a patch of pure darkness, his face taut with predatory intensity.
I almost didn’t sense him. His wards are woven so tightly around him and his power that it’s a wonder he can breathe.
Stalking toward me, he kisses me. Hard. One hand clasping the back of my skull, and the other caressing my jaw. And then it’s over just as quickly as it began.
“How do we get in?” he asks.
“This way.” I lead him around the castle wall.
There’s a reason I chose this patch of the forest. Pausing beside a drape of ivy that coats the walls, I run my hands over the stone and search for the slight indentation I know is there. It gives a click, and then a section of the wall swings open.
“My sister and I used to sneak out when we were younger and watch them celebrate Imbolc.”
“It’s a surprise your mother kept you locked away from such rites. With her own carnal nature, I’d have expected her to push you toward them.”
“No.” I lead him into the dark. “We would have been competition. Tonight is her night, and she likes to revel in the unabashed attention of her entire court.”
The wall swings shut behind us, plunging us into absolute blackness.
“Is it safe to summon a faelight?”
I spin one into being, and it comes to life easier than I can ever recall. Layer by layer, my mother’s curse work is slowly being undone, and a little part of me thrills at how easy my fae magic is becoming to wield.
Silvery blue light cascades over the tunnel.
“Quiet,” I tell him as we hurry through the darkness. “This leads directly to the royal wing. Nobody knows it’s here, but the guards have wolfhounds that guard the bailey, and if they hear us…."
I don’t need to add more.
It’s a long way through a series of interlocking passages. From a glimpse of the unstirred dust on the floor, nobody’s come this way in years.
Maybe Andraste stopped sneaking out after I married Thiago.
Finally, we’re deep in the heart of the royal apartments. I pause beside a panel in the wall and plunge us into darkness again. “My mother’s chambers lie on the other side.”
“Of all the places I would prefer never to see the inside of.” He nods,
