48. Rosalina
48
Rosalina
T he Prince of Thorns is here. In the Winter Realm. At the ball I organized.
The room is so silent, every one of Caspian’s steps down the stairs echoes like a grave toll. Ezryn grabs my shoulders and pulls me flush against him, positioning his body in front of mine. I twist around to catch sight of the other princes. Dayton and Farron sprint across the ballroom. But not to Caspian.
To Keldarion.
They each grab one of Kel’s arms, keeping him tethered to the throne. And the look on Kel’s face…
My heart feels like it’s splintering.
Pure rage and anguish ripple across his features.
Caspian, on the other hand, offers the crowd a smile, so beautiful for one so evil. “I’ve come to pay my respects to the organizer of this fine ball,” he says, voice reverberating throughout the room. “It seems my invitation got lost in the mail.” His black eyes land on me.
Caspian… has come to see me? What game is he playing?
Caspian stops when he gets to the bottom of the stairs. He’s finely dressed, in a black jacket with silver lining along the cuffs and a cape of dark purple. His long black hair descends in waves over his shoulders. And those dark eyes… He’s so beautiful, I feel myself holding my breath just to take him in.
“Not a very warm welcome,” he says. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I simply want to dance like all you lovely fae.”
“Get out of my realm,” Keldarion snarls from his throne.
Caspian chuckles and starts walking again. The fae part before him. “I truly am not here to see you, my dear Kel. I’m here for…”
I see his lips say ‘her’. But in my head, I hear, You.
Breath seizes in my throat. I hold on to the back of Ezryn’s armor like it’s the only thing that will keep me tethered to the earth.
“His Majesty, Prince of the Winter Realm and Sworn Protector of the Vale, has told you to leave,” Ezryn says, voice all dominance.
Caspian raises a brow and stops right before Ezryn. He’s so close. If I were to poke my head around from behind Ez’s giant metal back, I could touch him.
“Ah, Ez, darling. It’s been a long time. I see you’re still Keldarion’s metal dog.”
“And you’re as unwelcome here as ever,” Ezryn growls back. “Don’t do this, Caspian. You want to fight? Fine. But leave her out of this.”
Caspian holds his hand aloft and examines his fingernails. “Unlike you, Ez, I don’t follow Keldarion’s every whim. I know you’d cut off your own hand if it guaranteed a belly rub from His Frostiness, but I have other business to attend to. And today, I’d like to dance with the prestigious guest of Castletree.”
Ezryn emits what can only be described as a feral growl, made all the more terrifying by the reverberation of his mask.
The tension in the room is palpable. I swear if I breathe too loudly, it could pop the whole thing, and the ballroom would implode.
“Hey, Caspian, you weren’t wanted at parties twenty-five years ago. You’re not wanted now,” Dayton booms from the dais. He’s still got a firm hand on Keldarion’s shoulder. “Why don’t you be a good boy and see yourself out?”
Caspian gives a dark chuckle. “Sure is easy to be the tough man when you’re standing beside Kel, isn’t it, Dayton? Remind me again, who is ruling the Summer Realm right now?”
Dayton stiffens, his handsome face scrunched up.
“Oh, right,” Caspian drawls. “You left your child sister in charge. But I think your realm got off lucky. Better than the drunkard who let his brothers go off to battle alone. That ended well for you, didn’t it, Prince of the Summer Realm?”
Farron looks from Dayton’s ashen face to Caspian and snarls, “Shut up. You’re the villain here, Caspian. You’re sucking the life from Castletree—”
“Ah, if it isn’t our little researcher. Life is behind a book, isn’t it? You must love my thorns. You spend every day hiding away, trying to find a cure for them. But what would you do if they were gone, and you had to go back to actually ruling? Don’t try to fool me. You should be on your knees thanking me for the gift I’ve given you.” Caspian’s voice has lost its mischievous banter. He’s all darkness now.
Farron looks like he’s been struck by arrows. He staggers back, hand to his breast.
“Enough.” Ezryn steps forward to Caspian. “Guards, bring me a sword—”
“Of course you need a weapon. What is the Prince of Spring without blood on his hands?” Caspian paces before him, a scowl thrashing his angelic face. “The goblins love to talk, you know. You’re the favorite ghost story down Below. The Black Beast of the Briar.”
“Silence,” Ezryn rasps.
“I know how you love to kill them,” Caspian says. “How sometimes, you do it slowly. You torture them, letting their screams fill your ears like their blood fills your mouth. It’s alright. I can appreciate the art of torture.”
Ezryn storms up to him until they’re eye to eye. “I’ll take your tongue.”
But Caspian doesn’t back down. Instead, he smiles. “They fear you. And you love that. I know you well, Ezryn of the Spring. Is it true the only time you’ve ever been at peace is when you’re a monster, covered in blood? That you kill my goblins slowly so their screams will drown out the cries of all those you failed?” He flashes a white grin. “Like your mother?”
Now, Ezryn is silent. A tear falls from my face to the floor, and it sounds like a sonic boom. I turn to Keldarion on his throne. Do something. Help them.
But Keldarion stays pinned as if by invisible shackles, his face twisted in sorrow.
“All of you,” Caspian spits. “Pathetic.”
Rage floods my body.
Who does this guy think he is, crashing my party, belittling my princes? Perth Quellos made me feel like an ant under his boot, a feeling that was all too familiar. I’d been made to feel that way my entire life by the people in my town, by Lucas. And I took every hit, every jab, because it was easier to be knocked down than to stand up.
But now, a fire burns within my flesh. And I will not lie down on these coals. Not anymore.
I step in front of Ezryn and shove the Prince of Thorns in his perfectly pressed chest.
He stumbles back, and a gasp erupts from the crowd.
Caspian looks down at his feet, then up at me, a single eyebrow raised. He opens his mouth—but I don’t let him speak a word.
“We get it, Prince of Thorns. You’re jealous.” My voice is a breathy growl. Now I’m the one pacing in front of him. “The four princes have each other. And what do you have? Your goblins and your briars. No wonder you pass your time stalking the princes and obsessing over them.” I walk right under his nose and glower up. “You wish you could be them.”
Caspian smiles down at me. “Oh, my sweet Rose, you have no idea what I wish.”
“Shut up. I’m not done talking.” My heart roars in my ears, but I don’t care. I’m so fucking sick and tired of these insecure men. “Are the princes perfect? No. Have they made mistakes? Yes. But they’re still here. Showing up because they care about the Vale and everyone in it.”
I poke his hard chest. “And what do you care about? Spreading your ugly-ass garden? Making a fool of yourself at parties?” I shake my head. “You’re the pathetic one, Caspian. And you know it.”
Caspian is silent, and I intake a breath, awaiting his thorns to rip out of the crowd and envelope me. But when they don’t, I turn my back to him and stare at my princes. Ezryn, Dayton, Farron, and Keldarion. Each of them, so broken. And yet, the shards of them glitter like stardust. “The princes have more courage and heart than you could ever imagine, Caspian,” I whisper. “I can tell your life has been very sad. I’m sorry you’ve suffered.” My eyes shimmer with angry tears as I face him. “But you don’t get to tear them down because of it.”
Caspian runs a tongue over his plush lips. His dark eyes narrow, and a traitorous smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “What do you know? My rose has thorns.”
I pull my shoulders back and march right beneath his nose. I stare up at this prince of darkness and I do not flinch away. “You said you came to the party to see me and to dance. Well, here I am. Let’s dance.”
“Rosalina, don’t,” Ezryn says, but I wave him away.
“Caspian?” I press.
Caspian runs a hand through the dark waves of my hair. “It would be an honor to dance with you.”
I nod at the musicians and they look up at Keldarion. His hands dig furrows in his icy throne, but I urge him with my eyes: I know what I’m doing.
In a pained movement, he waves the musicians onward.
The waltz begins.
No one else is dancing. The Prince of Thorns and I move like two petals drifting through the breeze, like a singular ripple on a moonlit lake. If I thought Kel was a good dancer, Caspian puts him to shame. His every movement is fluid and sensual.
I can’t look away from his face; he holds that sardonic expression, barely blinking. His eyes are black holes, and I’m caught in their gravity.
“So, tell me, how do you like being the Princess of Castletree?” Caspian asks bitingly.
“It’s wonderful,” I snark back. “The food is marvelous. You should come for dinner sometime.”
“Oh, princess, you don’t want to invite me.” He dips me low. “I always show up.”
My breast surges with my rapid breath, and his eyes flick to my bodice. He gives a wicked smile.
Needing to focus, I say, “Why are your thorns all over the castle? Why won’t you remove them?”
He twirls me and pulls me flush against his chest. “You wouldn’t like it if I did that.”
“What do you want?” I urge. “To steal the magic of Castletree? Why?”
“I’ll let you in on a secret.” He smirks. “I do believe we want the same thing.”
“I doubt that, Caspian.”
His thumb rubs small circles on my waist. “Listen carefully, princess. Trust your own instincts above all else. The world will tell you that you don’t belong. That you are a mere human. That you have no dominion over the sway of destiny.” He leans forward, warm breath caressing my jaw. “They are wrong.”
“Why should I trust anything you have to say?” I breathe.
A crackle of energy erupts between us as he throws his head back, long dark hair falling away from his face. “Because, princess, I happen to be an expert on things below the surface.”
The music rises, and our movements sway faster, faster, faster. I have the distinct feeling I’m losing myself in a current and there’s nothing I can do to gain purchase again.
“Our dance is almost at a close,” he says. “And so I’ll tell you the real reason I’m here. Your precious princes are hiding something from you.”
I don’t reply. Can’t reply.
“The High Tower you’re forbidden from entering?” His voice is soft over my mind, and for a moment, it’s almost as if he’s speaking inside me. “Time is running out, princess. See for yourself.”
“There’s no way into High Tower.”
“You’ll find the way easier now. Trust only yourself.” The music rises into a rushing crescendo, and we spin and spin and spin until Caspian dips me so low, my hair brushes the dance floor.
“Our time together has come to an end, princess,” he whispers. “Thank you for a memorable night.”
Then his tongue licks from the dip of my breasts, up my neck, and to my lips—
A clatter sounds and I turn to the dais. Keldarion shoves Dayton and Farron away from him and surges.
Straight toward us.