33. Rosalina
33
Rosalina
“Y ou do not need a stuffed lion.” Dayton pulls me away from the vendor’s stall, full of sewed plush animals and other fantastical creatures.
“But it’s got wings, Dayton,” I whine.
An hour ago, we’d stepped through the enchanted mirror and into an alley in the Summer Realm. I’d almost asked about switching the door’s dial to enter the Summer Realm that way, but Kel had said those paths were shut a long time ago.
Plus, Dayton wanted to arrive close to the Summer Realm’s nightlife, and we’d exited the alley into a bustling outdoor marketplace. The bazaar is busy and vibrant, filled with people milling about in colorful clothes, merchants hawking their wares from small carts, and artisans displaying intricate works from jewelry to painting to blown glass. This area is located on the seaside; ships pass through the harbor and the setting sun glimmers off the waves.
Dayton rolls his eyes and pulls out some coins from his pocket. “One stuffed lion.”
The vendor widens his wrinkled eyes. “For the Prince, it is a humble gift.”
“No, I insist.” Dayton places the golden coins down on the counter.
The vendor shifts his eyes left and right. “My Prince, if it is not too bold to ask, when are you returning home for good?”
The playful expression Dayton held a moment ago blanches before he pulls it back into a cocky smile. “Unfortunately, there are still many thorns that surround Castletree. The others can’t hold off the dark magic without me.”
The vendor looks up and I follow his gaze. The city slopes upward and from here, I can see Castletree in the distance.
But it’s an illusion. Dayton had explained to me only the front door is physically here in the Summer Realm. If one were to step through, they would find themselves within the actual castle, tucked within the Briar. Or at least that’s how it used to be, before they closed the doors away to help hide the curse.
Below Castletree lies a beautiful palace gracing a cliff overlooking the sea. The Summer Palace, Dayton told me, where his younger sister now resides, the steward left to rule in his absence. The walls are constructed of a mix of ivory and jade stones, with golden turrets that sparkle like the sun itself.
The vendor nods, looking up at Dayton with admiration. “If you ask me, they should have crowned you Sworn Protector of the Realms after what the Winter princeling did.”
Dayton gives a weak smile and picks up the lion. He shoves the stuffie into my stomach with more vigor than necessary. What had that been about? What had Kel done?
“Thank you,” I say.
But Dayton just grunts. Something about the vendor’s words have set him off. I turn back to the market. It’s so strange to be in a crowd after being bolted up in the castle for over a month.
The wind coming off the ocean caresses my skin, and I wrap my cloak around me. Per Dayton’s suggestion, we both have garments of deep black draped around us to help us blend in. Still, it hasn’t stopped people from recognizing him.
A huge cheer fills the air, and I look up to see we’re passing a massive building: towering arches made of marble and sandstone. The walls are covered in intricate carvings and statues, and through the opening I spy seats arranged in tiers. Shouts of the crowd echo through the air. Outside, there are more merchants selling clay disks with engravings of warriors on them.
“What is that place?” I ask as another roar sounds from the crowd.
“The Sun Colosseum, a keystone of the Summer Realm,” Dayton says, following my gaze. “It’s where all the best heroes are made. Fae test their strength and bravery against each other or against monsters from the Below.”
“Wow,” I say. “Like ancient gladiators.”
He winks. “Where do you think they got their plans from?”
I knew I recognized some of the architecture here. It’s like something out of a history book, a merger of ancient Roman and Greek designs. The fae and humans are more intertwined than I ever imagined.
“Though we don’t have slaves, of course,” Dayton says. “It’s a great honor to battle in the arena. In fact, members of the royal house are expected to fight to prove themselves.”
“Wait.” I grip his arm. “You’re telling me you actually fought in there? And lived?”
“Please, it was hardly a challenge.” He flashes a dashing smile. “I could take six of those fighters blindfolded.”
“Can we watch?”
“Feeling a little bloodthirsty today, blossom?” Something flickers in his eyes as he looks up at the arena, and I’m not sure if it’s sadness, longing, or… fear.
“Dayton?”
He loops an arm around my shoulder. “Maybe another time. The sun is setting, and I have yet to have a drink. Something that must be rectified presently.”
W e make our way deeper into the city until Dayton leads us into a bar, though I’m sure the fae call it something else. A beautiful fae woman greets us at the entrance.
“Let me take your cloak,” Dayton says.
“I listened to your advice.” I unfasten my cloak and hand it to him. “The staff were very excited to help me fit into the Summer Realm.”
Marigold and Astrid had made sure I’d blend in. After swearing them to secrecy, they’d been so enthusiastic when I told them I’d be spending the night in one of the realms. Marigold recruited Flavia, a servant from the Summer Realm. She’s a former seamstress who spends her nights as a small goat.
The smile on her face when she brought in the assortment of gowns from the Summer Realm had me willing to do just about anything she wanted. Almost. It seems fae in the Summer Realm aren’t exactly fans of covering up, and we had to go through quite a few gowns until I found one with sleeves. Or the closest I could get. I settled for light purple fabric wrapped around my forearms and slitted drapes on the upper arms. The dress falls in plates down the front, pinned on each shoulder with a golden seashell broach. The gauzy fabric gathers at the waist, the pieces not entirely opaque.
Which brought Astrid to her next area of concern. My body, and the lack of self-care I’d been giving myself while here. Well, excuse me. I didn’t think things like shaving my legs or doing my nails were important while imprisoned and working on breaking a fae curse.
Clearly, I’d been wrong.
“You want to feel your best when you’re on a date with a fae prince,” Astrid had said, concerned. To which I had promptly informed her I was in no such way going on a date with a fae prince.
All human propriety had been shoved straight out the castle window as I’d stripped down, and Astrid used a long blade to shave my legs. All the while, Marigold patted oils on my skin and informed us that if I indeed wasn’t on a date with a fae prince, then I should try to get some Summer fae dick because they ‘are the best fuckers and fighters in all the four realms’.
Astrid had simply nodded. And the shaving had not stopped at my legs.
After I’d been scrubbed, washed, and oiled as slick as a baby seal, we’d returned to dress. Flavia had insisted on doing my hair as well. Intricate braids were woven into a crown on the top of my head. She even fastened them to cover the tips of my ears so I would have an easier time blending in. It was the equivalent of sticking a kitten with the lions, but I appreciated the sentiment.
My heart had warmed at these fae women, helping me get ready for my non-date with a fae prince. They all made me promise to tell them every detail and my thoughts on the Summer Realm upon my return.
But maybe I don’t look as good as I thought I did, because Dayton isn’t saying a darn thing. He stares down at me, cloak in hand, blinking stupidly. Okay, I’m sure he’s been with fae females one hundred times more beautiful than I am, but you’d think he could at least appreciate the effort I put in and fake a compliment.
He turns away and storms into the bar without a single word.