Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
A nd there he stood—the Prince of the Winter Court.
I took a small step toward the crowd, hoping to blend in, yet my focus remained unwavering on Ambrose. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He showed a side of him I hadn’t witnessed at the manor. He was so immaculately groomed and sophisticated; it was clear time had changed him, and yet… I tilted my head and bit my lip, studying him. He looked the same. His hair, longer and tied, framed his face. He exuded a commanding presence, dressed in a tunic, trousers, and a richly embellished cloak befitting a prince.
King Alaric leaned over his throne to whisper something into his son’s ear, who beamed and nodded, surveying the crowd. Ambrose of the past looked happy, free from the future’s burdens. The weight of the kingdom had hardened his features over the years.
“Be still, my heart,” I whispered. My heart pounded so loudly I was afraid it would give me away. Unable to discern my feelings, I studied him for a while longer. It was the first time since arriving here that I could truly watch him without fear of being discovered. It was an odd and unsettling sensation, knowing the immense responsibility he would soon have to shoulder for his court and kingdom. Where was the strict and imperious high-handed prince I had come to know? Curious, I toyed with my necklace, pressing the crescent’s sharp point into my fingertips.
“Prince Ambrose,” sang the women beside us. They continued, their voices laden with admiration. “Oh, he’s positively dreamy and incredibly kind. I once saw him at the markets in town, you know. It was the oddest sight—a prince just strolling through the streets, chatting with the commoners as though he had known them for years.”
“I heard,” the one with vibrant hair chimed in, “that he’s set to be betrothed to Princess Katherine.”
“Princess Katherine of the Autumn Court?”
“Yes! Rumour has it that the King and Queen have somewhat forced this union upon them, but I heard the young prince wants no part of it.”
“Is there someone else who’s captured his attention, Grace?” she asked. My heart paused as I held my breath, waiting for her response with a growing ache in my chest. Of course, he was betrothed to someone. After all, he was a prince with responsibilities and duties to his court and people. It was easy to forget his title when I was in his company; to me, he was simply Ambrose, the man who exasperated and enchanted me all at once. A queasy feeling rose in my throat.
“No,” I exhaled, releasing a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding.
“Apparently, he has yet to show interest in any woman.”
“Maybe,” one said thoughtfully. “It’s men who catch his eye.”
“Georgia!” Grace scoffed, and I couldn’t help but join her, hiding my mouth behind my hand.
“Well, it’s not unheard of, you know. It wouldn’t be the first time a prince has been interested in someone of the same sex.”
“Are you talking about Prince Terrance? The now King Terrance of the Summer Court?”
“I am,” she replied confidently.
“He is married to a woman!” Grace retorted.
“Yes, I know that, but what’s that got to do with anything? They can have lovers, you know.” Georgia pointed out.
“He just hasn’t found his mate yet, Bee. I think it’s romantic.”
“Fae can go a lifetime without finding their bonded mate, Bianca. Do you think he’s going to wait for her forever? No, I mean, look at him.” I had never heard the term ‘mate’ before and made a mental note to ask Brennan about it later. Arnica nudged me.
“Look at Lillian, Jayne. She looks so young,” Arnica whispered.
Lillian sat on a footstool beside her mother. She appeared to be just a child, perhaps around Jesse’s age. Beneath her tiara, Lillian’s long, thick hair was braided, cascading over one shoulder. She wore an impeccable gown, suitable for a princess: a stunning baby blue with long sleeves adorned with lace and jewels. It looked so conservative! I chuckled, imagining how much she must have despised wearing such a formal outfit. I crouched again, realising I was exposed.
“Quit worrying, Jaynie! They won’t recognise us. They don’t even know we exist yet.” She was right. We hadn’t actually met or crossed paths. We could walk right past them, and they wouldn’t even notice. I eased slightly.
“Well, ladies.” Bianca smiled, revealing her perfect white teeth. “Tonight’s the night.”
I looked at her, curious about her excitement. She smoothed out her dress yet paused under her bust to boost her assets. I widened my eyes. “How do I look?” she asked the girls, one of whom clapped with fervour.
“Perfect! You look perfect, Bianca. He won’t be able to resist you in that dress!” The other girl assured her. Was she going to walk right to him and ask for a dance? “Go get him.”
When the string quartet concluded their tune, the crowd erupted into applause before the violins started up again. This time, a slower, softer melody filled the air. Men and women moved into formation, engaging in a slow, smooth waltz across the dance floor. They glided around the space, rising and falling to the music’s rhythm. Beneath the stars, the sight was glorious; I felt swept away by the night’s beauty. I wondered if I would ever witness anything as beautiful as this again.
I had briefly taken my eyes off the prince, and to my surprise, when I looked back, I found him on the dance floor with a fae woman. Bianca. That was swift. I scoffed, and the intensity of it caught me by surprise. I watched them, tracking their movements across the dance floor.
Bianca beamed as Prince Ambrose twirled her. When he dipped her, she tilted her head and arched her back, rising to meet him. I tried not to focus on how perfect they looked together, their captivating appearances complementing one another. Yet, unease shadowed the prince’s expression as he manoeuvred through the dancers. When he returned to Bianca, a subtle hint of boredom crossed his features; his smile seemed forced and failed to reach his eyes. He stepped closer and took her hand, pivoting her so her back rested against his chest. I stiffened at her smile, yet Ambrose’s eyes flitted around the room as if searching for something or someone. I followed his gaze, pondering who he might be looking for.
Nicolias appeared at the dais, joining the king, queen, and Lillian. The young Lillian’s face brightened as he approached and bowed his head in greeting. As she turned to her mother to speak, Nicolias flicked Lillian’s braid over her shoulder with his gloved fingers, and she playfully pushed him away. He feigned injury and clutched his shoulder as though pained, prompting Lillian to throw her head back with laughter. Their playful interaction drew smiles from those around them.
My focus returned to the prince, who twirled gracefully while scanning the crowd. Suddenly, his warm, honey-coloured eyes met mine, firm and unwavering. I gasped. My heart pounded as I felt frozen in place.
I couldn’t look away. My breath caught in my throat as I continued to meet his eyes. What did he see in my gaze? Could he sense my presence? A whirlwind of emotions swirled within me, my panic intensifying when I realised he was monitoring me in his periphery. There was a momentary pause in the music before the next melody began. Ambrose’s eyes finally left mine as he gracefully bowed to Bianca before excusing himself.
The setting hushed, like a hand had gently lowered the volume. I turned to where the orchestra had been moments ago. The group of fae who had shielded me from view gradually dispersed, leaving me exposed. They remained oblivious, of course, continuing their conversations. I scanned the room for Arnica. There she was, her eyes fixed on the lively scene before her. Fae graced the dance floor, clapping and laughing. I glanced downward, touching my dress and face. I was unmistakably here in the moment, with both my mind and body fully present, yet an unsettling feeling crept over me. Something was amiss.
Without hesitation, I lunged toward Arnica, attempting to bridge the gap between us.
“Arnica!” I shouted. Fear gripped every fibre of my being. I reached for her, yet my fingers passed through her transparent form. I stared at my now insubstantial hands, lifting them to my eyes in disbelief. Had this all been a dream? I scanned my surroundings. The once-enclosing forms dissolved into vague silhouettes that merged with the surrounding darkness. I now stood, alone, bathed in shadow. The soft glow of the stars and moon served as my only beacon of light.
Swiftly, I stooped to reach for my knife, the one I had slid into my boot when Brennan had glamoured us. It was gone. I quickly checked my other foot. “No, no, no!” I exclaimed, my frustration giving way to panic.
“Are you searching for something, Aleithra?”
I froze, and my skin prickled with an unmistakable awareness and recognition. I whirled towards the speaker and stumbled back at the sight of the man before me. My lips parted as my eyes fell upon his face, darting to his high cheekbones and pointed ears. His mysterious silver eyes stared back at me, the tones of his gaze changing in the dim moonlight. He was no mortal man—no. There was no mistaking what he was. Power oozed from him as apocket of darkness and invisibility wrapped around me, an illusionhehadcreated for the two of us while everything around us continued as normal.
Hewore black and onlyblack; his finely made clothing was cut close to his long frame, his jet-black hair coruscating intheripples of light.The familiar ink trail I had noticed the first time I saw him that night in the tavern swirled down the side of his neck and beneath his leather tunic. I didn’t speak—I couldn’t even breathe as everything around me slowed. Even the piano in the distance felt like it had paused.
Heheld aknifein his hand, flipping it deftly between his fingers as thoughit wereatoy,not a lethal weapon used to kill.Ared embellishmentpeekedout fromthe cross guard.There was no mistakingit. It wasthe oneAmbrosegifted to me with the gold snake engraved on the side. I sensed my anger surge.
I glared at him, observing his every action as he moved with remarkable grace and ease, a captivating spectacle.
“You will return that to me,” I demanded. He held the blade between his fingers, studying me closely.
“This?”
“Yes. That belongs to me. It was a gift, and I insist on having it back,” I declared, raising my chin and straightening. I may not have known him, but I couldn’t fathom that someone who had rescued me in Sagaya would now wish to harm me. He smiled, a half-smile, yet I sensed anger beneath it.
“What are you doing this side of the wall, Aleithra?”
“Stop calling me that. It’s not my name!”
“You would prefer if I called you Jayne, then?” His tone held a curious edge, not malicious but with an intent I couldn’t place, like he wanted me to fear him.
“How do you know my name?”
He didn’t answer me. Instead, his words turned cold, cool, and dismissive. “Ambrose should never have brought you here; he made a mistake. Listen to me. Flee now while you have the chance. Before it’s too late.”
“How do you know that?”
“Does he believe it is in your best interest to lock you up in that manor of his in the mountains? And what of your sister?”He nodded toward Arnica, who remained in the distant crowd, dancing and grinning at the music. My heart sank; how did he know who we were?
I contemplated running for it while his back was turned. If I could reach Arnica, we might slip through the crowd, find Brennan, and secure our way back to safety and the others. I could wield my fire and break down these dark walls he’d entrapped me in.
He reached for me, tracing the side of my cheekbone. I had expected his touch to be cold like the last time my skin had touched his, but it was quite the opposite. It felt warm and strangely inviting. I maintained eye contact with him, my expression questioning.
“Who are you?” I asked. “Are you from the Winter Court?” From the moment I first saw him that night in the tavern, I was determined to discover who he was. What had he been doing in Sagaya? And now, here he was, standing in front of me.
“I belong to no court,” he said, his tone resolute yet devoid of aggression.
Echoes of Brennan’s teachings resounded in my mind. ‘There are, of course, those who swear no allegiance to any court. They are known as Solitary Fae, and they are some of the most dangerous.’
“I don’t have much time. I came to find you. You need to go back, Jayne.” Urgency laced his words, and a glimmer of hope danced in his silver eyes.
“Yes, we were just about to leave. I’m sorry we came uninvited toni?—”
“Gods, I’m not talking about this silly celebration! I’m talking about Faerie and the Winter Court.” He continued, his voice deepening and picking up speed.
“I—” I paused. I couldn’t leave now, not after discovering all of this, not when we had a part to play in protecting this world. I didn’t need to voice my decision. I owed nothing to this man; I wasn’t going back! It was like he predicted my response without me saying a word. A sense of helplessness shadowed his features, and then he looked at me— really looked at me. “The mortal king has sent Geoffrey. He is coming for you, Jayne, and he is powerful. You must be careful. He thrives on the chase, and he wants what you have. There’s nothing I can do to stop it now.”
A shiver trickled down my spine at his ominous words. His warning should have rattled me to the core, but strangely, it was my name on his lips holding me captive. My eyes slowly traced a path to his lips. His words resonated, and it was like I had waited my entire life to hear them. I blinked, trying to rouse myself from this strange, surreal moment.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “Wait, who is coming for me?” His eyes bore into mine as if he were looking into a deep part of my soul.
“Get your sister and demand Ambrose and Lillian return you to Sagaya. Head for the Seltos mountains; you will be safe there.” He glanced down at my necklace. His words carried an urgency that left no room for doubt. “We are teetering on the brink of war, and you, Jayne, must survive.”
“My brother Jesse,” I said tentatively, unsure if he even recognized his name.
“Yes, I need a little more time to figure that one out,” he replied. Desperation seized me as I raised my gaze to his, imploring.
“You know him? Please, I beg of you, do you know if he’s safe?”
“He is, for now,” he assured me, but his response fell short of easing my concerns. A multitude of questions teetered on the tip of my tongue, demanding answers. I shook my head, determined to press further.
“You have the wrong girl.I’m not sure who you think I am,but I amnot her. I am a simple halfling with no ties to this world. I am a nobody.”
“Do you truly believe yourself to be nobody?” My words seemed to hold an unexpected weight for him, but I couldn’t fathom why.
In an instant, he closed the distance between us, pressing the warmth of his body against mine. I stilled as he held me close. Though he was much taller, I fit into his embrace as if it were made for me. I took a deep breath and peered into his unyielding eyes. Heavens! Even in the dim light, they were exactly how I recalled them—speckles of silver forever painted in my memory. I allowed the rise and fall of our chests to synchronise, vaguely aware of the knife he held—my knife—pressing against my back. I didn’t have a weapon; I was helpless against him, yet I didn’t feel endangered. He was trying to protect me.
I focused, urging the fire to awaken inside me. A small flutter of warmth gathered in my hands—it was there, but I couldn’t quite grasp it.He stared at me like he saw through my fa?ade, and his eyes twinkled, softening his features.
Slowly, painstakingly slowly, heslidhis hands down myarms and lowered to his knees before me. I flinched as hereached for my leg and hitched up my gown, revealing my tattered boots, a far cryfrom the rest of myattire. A blush crept across my cheeks; he must be repulsed by my mismatched appearance compared to his elegance. If he was disgusted, he didn’t show it. His hands were gentle, his touch careful, as he returned the knife to its original place, where it had been before he took it. His eyes remained locked on mine, unwavering and intense. We were the only two souls in the world.
“Goodbye, Jayne,” he said, rising. He bowed his head, turning away as if desperate to create as much distance between us as possible. His fists clenched at his sides, the tension palpable.
“Wait!” I called, halting him in his tracks. “Please, tell me your name?” He turned back to me, and my eyes pleaded with him to grant me this one request.
He sighed and bowed his head as if deeming his next act foolish. “Ronan,” he whispered, and with a raise of his hand, he was gone. It was like he disappeared into thin air, just as he had come, taking the darkness with him.
I stood, immobile and frozen. I couldn’t find the will to move, even though every part of me screamed to do so. A cool sensation hit me then. It was the gentle night breeze. The soft glow of moonlight returned, as did the music. Everything was just as it had been, with Arnica at my side, blissfully unaware of the recent events. The women spoke animatedly beside me, and one of them squealed, jolting me from my reverie.
“I can’t believe you danced with the prince!” one of them exclaimed.
“Bianca, how was he?” chimed another, her voice equally excited.
I clutched Arnica’s hand. “We need to leave.” I tugged her through the bustling crowd, paying no heed to the people.
“Ouch, Jaynie!” Arnica protested. “I accidentally stepped on someone’s toes back there. What’s got into you?”
“I can’t explain it right now, Arnica,” I said, determined. “We have to find Brennan. There!” I pointed towards the path that had brought us here and gently urged her in that direction.
In my haste, I stumbled and fell to the ground, brushing my arm against the uneven surface. “Jayne!” Arnica gasped, but before she could reach me, a pair of large, callused hands gently lifted me up.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and I recognized his voice and presence without even needing to look. His familiar scent comforted my senses, and my legs wobbled, nearly betraying me again.
“Thank you, but I am fine,” I stammered, extending my arm to shield my face from his gaze, but he continued studying me with his magnificent golden eyes. My gaze flicked up to the regal crown on his head, emanating power in waves. I smiled at him and couldn’t help but appreciate how well he carried himself. The crown and richly embellished cloak made him look every part a prince.
“Prince Ambrose,” I curtsied, a blend of admiration and nervousness clear in my posture.
Arnica hurried to my side, her touch gentle as she brushed the lingering sand and stones from my arm. Concern was etched on her face as she asked, “Jayne, are you okay?”
“Jayne,” Ambrose repeated, his gaze unwavering on my face.
I exchanged a glance with Arnica and then glanced back at Ambrose. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, sensing the moment’s significance.
“Thank you for your help, Prince Ambrose,” Arnica interjected playfully, pulling me from Ambrose’s grasp. “My dear sister can be quite clumsy at times.” She intertwined her arm with mine, guiding me forward with a bright smile.
“Such a lovely party! Happy solstice to you and your family,” she added as we continued walking. Further up the path, I couldn’t resist the temptation to steal one last glance over my shoulder. Ambrose’s eyes remained locked onto me, imprinting his presence in my memory as we parted ways.
“C’mon, faster!” I urged Arnica, and together we retraced our steps along the winding path leading up the hill.
Brennan had risen from his seat and was busily preparing the horses for our swift departure.
“You girls will be the death of me. I’m too old for this senseless stupidity,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “How you talked me into that, I don’t know, but that was far too long. Did you see anyone?”
“No,” I replied firmly, yet the lie felt heavy between my teeth.
“Thank the gods, now hurry along! Ambrose will have my head on a spike if we’re not back soon.” We promptly mounted our horses and followed Brennan with a sense of urgency. Our horses fell into a synchronised gallop behind him.
Arnica was silent, but her eyes demanded we speak the very minute we returned to the manor. My mind raced, my thoughts whirling like a storm. Where would I begin? Despite the events that transpired tonight, I found myself fixated on one thing.
“Ronan,” I whispered his name, yet it slipped from my lips like I had uttered it a million times before. Tiny specks of light twinkled over my body like fireflies, casting an ethereal glow on the fabric of my emerald gown. I watched, awe-struck, as the dress transformed before my eyes. The golden-hued gown slowly darkened to black until it became the leggings and tunic I had worn previously.
As we neared the manor in the distance, I felt time slipping away. I turned to Brennan, my voice urgent.
“Brennan, may I ask you something?” I asked. He clicked his tongue and slowed his horse, pulling on the reins. He made riding appear effortless; clearly, he had done it a thousand times before. Arnica rode ahead, peering up at the sky.
“There was a word I overheard tonight that I haven’t encountered before. It seemed to carry some significance, and I’m curious about its meaning,” I explained.
Brennan’s response was swift. “Well, out with it, girl. Don’t dilly-dally. What’s the word?” “Mate, and, well, bond too. A group of female fae spoke of it tonight.”
Brennan’s response was a thoughtful murmur. “Hmmm,” he said, “I believe they were referring to a mating bond. It’s rare and higher than the bond found in regular marriages. They’re considered true soulmates, equals in every sense. It’s a sacred connection between the minds of two fae. It’s believed to be so strong that not even death itself can sever the bond.”
“How does that work exactly? You see your mate from across the room and fall head over heels in love with them, living happily ever after?” I scoffed. “That sounds like an enchantment to me, Brennan.”
He chuckled at my words, but acknowledged them, nonetheless.
“I understand how it might sound strange to someone unfamiliar with the process,” he began. “But it’s not as simple as love at first sight. For some, it’s an immediate connection formed when the pair meets, but for others, it can take years before the bond is discovered. It must be accepted willingly, though it can also be rejected.”
“Has that ever happened before?”
Brennan chuckled, shaking his head. “Many times. Can you imagine the fates decided your equal is a complete twat?” I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Why would they do that?”
“Because sometimes the bond is based on which pair would create the strongest offspring. It’s not always about happily ever afters.”
“That sounds terrifying.” Brennan nodded his agreement. “Can dwarves bond?” I asked, “What about a Wolven?”
“Dwarves, no,” Brennan replied. “But the alpha of a wolf pack will almost always mate. The term is called imprinting.”
“So, Kaelan?” I teased, a knowing smile playing on my lips.
“Yes. Kaelan will imprint one day,” Brennan acknowledged. “He’s dreading the day it happens, but I beg to differ.”
I couldn’t resist asking about Ambrose, and I lowered my voice to conceal any hint of eagerness.
“And what of Prince Ambrose?”
A lingering silence hung in the air until Brennan finally answered, his tone sombre.
“Not yet.”
A shadow crossed his features, and his scowl deepened as we approached the manor. I mirrored his seriousness and fixed my gaze ahead as Ambrose, Kaelan, and Nicolias welcomed us at the door.