Chapter 61
CHAPTER 61
Farron
“B e honest. Purple or navy cloak?” Caspian holds them both up to his body.
I look up from my book. I’m reclining on his bed, trying to ignore the Prince of Thorns while he tries on different outfits for the upcoming masquerade party. “They both look nice.”
“But which one is more striking? Which one will draw the most eyes?” Caspian purrs.
“You could show up naked and still somehow be the best dressed.”
He tosses the cloaks to the side. “Thinking of me naked, are you, Farron?”
I slam my book down, but he’s already crawling on the bed toward me. “No, I wasn’t, I—”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I look amazing naked.” He laughs. I’ve heard him laugh before, a smoky, ethereal sound, but I’m not sure he’s ever laughed because of me. A man could get drunk on that laugh.
It draws one out of me too. Caspian must have gotten bored with picking apart his wardrobe because he practically plops down on top of me and reaches for my book. “What are you reading?”
I honestly don’t remember, not with him on top of me. His nose wrinkles as he flips through the book, black hair tossed across his brow.
Then Caspian’s ears twitch, and he’s throwing back the velvety blanket to get beneath them. “Get under the covers, Farron.”
“What?”
“Get under the fucking covers now,” he rasps, a deadly serious expression on his face.
I’m so taken aback that I do what he says, allowing him to grab my hair and put me between his legs. “Oh,” he whispers, just as I hear the door click open. “It would be helpful if you pretended to suck my cock.”
Then he lets out a truly haunting sound, part moan, part growl, as he caresses my hair beneath the sheets. It’s followed by a female’s scoff and a metallic huff.
Immediately, I know who’s in the room with us. The Nightingale and Kairyn.
“Excuse me,” Caspian drawls, the pinnacle of indifference. “I have company.”
“Of course, he languishes while we work to secure the realms for the Green Rule,” Kairyn says.
“This is important, Caspian,” the Nightingale says, voice muffled. She’s probably wearing her signature mask. “Kairyn and I don’t have time to be hunting you down here in Cryptgarden when we’re needed in Hadria. Speak quickly so I don’t have to stay a second longer than I need to. Do you know the location of the Golden Rose?”
“Yes, she’s under these covers, sucking my—”
“This is serious,” the Nightingale snarls.
They still haven’t found Rosie. Caspian told me they’d lost track of her. I’m so far Below, I can barely feel her through our mate bond, but I’m confident I would feel something if she were in danger.
“She’s trapped in an impenetrable underwater prison,” Caspian drawls. “Oh wait, that’s right. A child broke her out.”
“ENOUGH!” Kairyn roars, and something smashes. “Daytonales has abandoned her and enrolled in my games with some sea siren. What’s his plan?”
The mention of Dayton’s name sends a pulse of longing through me. Kairyn’s wrong. Dayton would never abandon Rosalina. It was always the plan for them to enter the games together, with Rosalina in disguise. Could she have adopted the form of a siren?
“Perhaps he’s just an arrogant bastard who can’t resist a challenge.” Caspian gives a long sigh and slaps my cheek. I guess that’s a cue for me to move. My cheek brushes his thigh. His pants are softest silk, and slowly I mimic the movement he’s looking for. “Isn’t that something you should have figured out, Birdy?”
The Nightingale inhales a shuddering breath. “We can salvage this, Kairyn. Everyone in Summer knows he’s enrolled in the games. If you imprison him, it’ll only enrage the people more. Why make him a martyr when you can humiliate him in his own arena?”
Humiliate the only person who’s never lost in the Sun Colosseum , I think. Unlikely.
Caspian threads his hands into my hair, dragging me dangerously close to his cock, which I can now see the distinct shape of through his loose pants. Holy fuck, is he hard?
“Humiliate the only person who’s never lost in the Sun Colosseum?” Caspian says. “Unlikely.”
“He hasn’t played in my games,” Kairyn snarls.
My breath is ragged. It’s getting warm beneath the covers. Caspian’s leg twitches, and he makes a deep sound in the back of his throat, which I’m not entirely convinced is faked.
As he moves his knee, I can just see out of the bottom of the covers. The Nightingale is in her prismatic armor standing next to Kairyn’s massive frame. My body quivers in anger at the sight of them. One of my fists tightens, entwining in the sheets, the other on Caspian’s thigh.
“We must devise something truly horrible for him to face in the arena,” the Nightingale gleams. “Thank you for nothing, brother.”
There’s the slam of the door, and Caspian immediately grabs me by the shoulders and drags me out from beneath the covers. We’re nose to nose, breath mingling.
“Rosalina—” I start.
“Nearly positive she must be the siren,” Caspian says. “I’ll go to the surface and check.”
“Thank you.”
He swallows, and I watch the muscles in his throat bob. “Sorry about that.”
“Did you just apologize to me, Cas?”
His smile turns devious. He grabs my hand and drags it lower and lower until I can feel the hard shape of his cock. “Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it though.” He moves his leg, rubbing against my hips. “And you did too.”
“Cas.”
He tilts his head. “What? Your Summer boy is confused, and you miss getting fucked.”
Ahh . I know what he’s doing. I understand because Dayton did this to me for years. He felt something inside him, something he didn’t understand, so he needs to dismiss it with a crude remark. But two can play at that game.
I squeeze his hard shape. “I was actually thinking about how it would be to fuck you.”
“Do you want to end up in the fucking labyrinth?” Caspian’s face turns red, and he pushes off me, standing. “I’m going to Summer.”
Then thorns erupt around him, and he disappears.
It’s late when he returns. The light never changes down here, but the fire has dwindled to crystal cinders. I realize I’ve fallen asleep in his bed, wrapped in the soft blankets, and for some reason I don’t make a motion to leave.
Caspian stands before the wardrobe, methodically removing all his layers until he changes into soft, loose pants. They look much too large for him, and I wonder if they once belonged to another High Prince that frequented these rooms. He goes to the door and tests the lock twice, then raises a barrier of thorns. Then he checks the lock of his balcony three times before crossing to the privy. It’s so quiet, I can hear his rapid breath. He’s paranoid. Does he do this routine every night?
The bed sinks with his weight. “Tired of the floor?”
“Just don’t touch me,” I say, then, “Was it her?”
“Yes,” he says. “She was sleeping. I just watched her for a little while. Rosalina makes a very beautiful siren.”
“Good.” I roll over, holding my pillow. Dayton will take care of her. Stars, she can take care of herself. But it doesn’t stop the ache of missing her. “Thank you for helping us, Cas.”
“I know it’s not enough,” he says, so softly. “You know, I only ever wanted you princes to see the real me, to feel something when you saw me. I think, for a long time, to be hated was enough because it was something. It was better than nothing.”
Is this his way of saying sorry? Of offering an explanation? I don’t know. I’m not sure about anything anymore since coming down here. “Was it really all an act, Cas?” I whisper. “All those years ago? Working with Kel, befriending us, saying you had abandoned the Below and wanted to help the realms? Was it all a set-up to steal the rose from the Gardens of Ithilias and begin your War of Thorns?”
Caspian grumbles something, then mutters, “Yes. It was all an act. My mother sent me as a spy. I was destined to betray Keldarion. To betray you all.”
I shift, searching the darkness to find any hint of truth in his eyes. For so long, I’ve berated myself and Kel—and even Rosie, at times—for being so foolish as to fall for the Prince of Thorns’ manipulation. But lying here with him now, I’m reminded of how he was in the past. “I don’t believe you. Maybe the plan was to deceive us, but at some point, you wavered, didn’t you? You were our friend, and you did love Kel.”
“Kel sent an army to destroy Cryptgarden,” Caspian snarls. “At least one of us succeeded at deceiving the other. It was my fault for ever believing I would be accepted outside of the Below. I stuck to my mother’s plan, and I stole the rose back. So what? Kel would have done the same in my position. They call it the War of Thorns, but it was my mother’s campaign. Once the rose was destroyed, I had no interest in any of it. I’d already done enough damage at that point.”
“The Great Chasm.”
“It was an accident,” he murmured. “If that’s what I can do with what magic flows through my veins now, then I can’t imagine what I’ll be capable of if my mother gets her wish, and I am forced to accept the full might of my legacy.”
“We won’t let that happen,” I say. Keldarion and Caspian’s battle across the Badlands outside of Frostfang is practically a legend among the fae now. I’d always assumed the creation of the Great Chasm was Caspian’s last effort to destroy Winter.
Was it really just an accident? A loss of control while fighting the man he loved?
I narrow my eyes. “Your allegiance never fully returned to the Below. You bolstered Castletree as soon as it started to get sick. What changed your mind?”
Caspian runs a hand along his wrist. In the dim light, I see his fingers caressing a gold bracelet. “Aurelia showed me kindness once. Castletree is important to her. It was the least I could do in return. Besides, even after everything, there are things inside that castle I can’t bear to lose.”
Secrets within secrets. I think I understand Keldarion and Rosalina a little more. I know I’ve already pushed him enough, so I don’t press further. Instead, I say, “I’m going to sleep now. If you accidentally kick me in the middle of the night, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”
The Prince of Thorns laughs—the kind of laugh I could get drunk on—and then he’s beside me, his leg over mine, head on my pillow close enough that his long hair brushes my cheek. “Like this? Would this be a big deal, Autumn Prince?”
I groan and attempt to push him away without any real effort behind it. But somehow it only brings him closer, his head falling to my shoulder.
“Or this?” His hand snakes beneath my shirt, and even though everything with Caspian naturally feels sensual, this gesture feels more comfort-seeking than anything else. So, I let my arm fall around him and I wonder to all the stars why falling asleep next to the Prince of Thorns doesn’t feel like the most terrible thing in the world.
“Goodnight, Cas.”
But he doesn’t answer. He’s already asleep.