Chapter 4
Isoaked in the tub until I got all pruned and the water started to cool.
I’d looked around the whole time, just marveling at the gilded, fancy-ass bathroom that was crusted with snow and ice.
Weird snow and ice again because it didn’t melt, didn’t really feel cold, and came right back when I brushed it away.
I had to wonder if the stuff outside was normal frozen water, while what was inside was some strange kind of decorative version.
There was still a chill in the air either way, and I dried off quickly.
Peeking into the rest of the suite, I discovered that everyone was gone now.
I went in wearing only a towel and was glad to find a full set of clothes on the bed and a fire in the fireplace.
They’d guessed at my sizes and come close enough since I was meant to layer anyway.
The clothes were soft and silky like maybe I was important but not advisor-level important.
There was no ridiculous collar—thank god—but there was a smaller one attached to the shirt.
Hose with garters and black pants that stopped at my knees.
Undershirt, blousy white shirt, green velvet vest, dark green suit coat that I hoped wasn’t meant to be buttoned because I couldn’t.
Frilly cuffs that I really didn’t want to accidentally dip into my food were at both wrists.
The shoes were a bit big and the gayest footwear I’d ever worn since they were bejeweled with dark stones and had two-inch heels.
My calves looked cut and my ass stuck out—not a bad look, just awkward.
I practiced walking back and forth for a few minutes, trying not to twist an ankle.
I had my hiking boots, but they would stand out horribly from this gaudy outfit.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t break a leg during lunch.
Looking in the mirror, I felt like an extra in a Shakespearean play. I looked okay, but definitely not like myself.
And then while I watched with wide eyes, a dusting of snow grew on my shoulders like some kind of fungus.
I brushed at it out of instinct, trying to get it off of me.
It came right back. Looking over the rest of me, I now had a splash of “snow” on my left pant leg and on the toes of both shoes.
It was almost decorative. Again, I had to wonder if that was the curse settling on me, or just regular old Winter Court normalcy.
A knock at the door nearly gave me a heart attack. I answered it to find a staff member ready to escort me to lunch. I’d managed to ignore my hunger for a while after the apple, but now I was ravenous.
Would lunch be a huge feast as befitting the royalty in my imagination? Or something more humble given how everyone struggled to have enough during an endless winter? I could see it going either way with grouchy little Flurry.
My escort left me at the doorway into exactly the kind of expansive dining hall I’d expected we would be eating in.
The table in the center of the room probably could’ve sat sixty people easily, but the twenty of us were down on one end.
Interestingly, it was also a buffet, with a sideboard filled with steaming dishes and folks filling their own plates.
Lunch seemed less formal than my interrogation. Partly because of the buffet but also because those big collars were gone, and the women’s wide dresses were more normal-shaped now. Had they dressed up for the questioning, but now they were chill since I wasn’t a threat?
Badru stopped beside me as I waited in line, his plate full of meat, vegetables, and something that looked like a pink jello salad. “How are the clothes, Mister Hawkins?”
“Oh, they’re great. Thanks.” I smiled. “Much warmer than what I had before.”
He chuckled with a nod. “I’ll make sure you have a variety, then, in your wardrobe.”
“Awesome. Thanks again.”
The line moved on, so I followed and picked up a plate. Badru waved over a staff member, said something, and got a nod before the other man rushed off. That was nice. He’d said he would do it, and did it seconds later. My ex had been shit at that. Not that I was interested in someone new.
And why did I immediately start looking for the prince with that thought?
He was standing over on the other side of the table with a man and a woman, the two of them talking animatedly while the prince listened.
He’d added a silvery-blue fur-lined coat that went to his ankles on top of his skin-tight body suit from earlier.
No staffs, canes, swords, or anything else long and pointy.
Did the prince of the Winter Court get cold? I wanted to find out if he was warm or cool to the touch. Could I make him melt?
Good grief.
“Is there something wrong with the chicken?”
I realized someone was talking to me and blinked myself back into focus. “Sorry, no, I’m sure it’s great.” I speared some meat with a smile, hoping he hadn’t noticed who I was staring at.
It seemed that I was one of the last to get a plate and that whoever had cooked had planned down to the last fried potato because there wasn’t much left after the guy behind me filled his plate. So not a Marie Antoinette level of feast that I’d feared. I liked that.
I didn’t like the fact that the only seat left was to the right of the prince.
He sat at the head, lounging in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, eyes on me.
I gave him a smile and set down my plate to pull my chair out.
Should I apologize for earlier? Was I sitting here as a punishment?
But as I sat, I realized he didn’t have a plate. “Did you already eat? There’s hardly anything left.”
Before the last word left my mouth, someone came over and set a covered plate down in front of him. They whisked off the dome, and there was a selection of everything that had been available. He smirked at me. Was he showing off?
I picked a strawberry from my plate and tossed it into the air, catching it in my mouth.
I smirked at him. And then I chewed and realized with horror that it had not been a strawberry but a raw radish.
Too committed to the bit to spit it out now, I chewed, swallowed, and hoped no one could see my eyes watering.
Flurry chuckled. He knew. Of course he did.
So since he did, I wiped the tears from my eyes and reached for a tall glass of— Well, okay, that was beer.
I wasn’t a big drinker, didn’t know much about beer, but the slight coffee taste made me think of Guinness.
So the fae brewed Guinness? Oddly, I wasn’t surprised.
Everyone was eating by now and chatting amongst themselves. Since the prince seemed to be in good spirits, I wanted to keep things nice and thought apologizing for earlier might be for the best.
“Your Highness?”
He looked up from cutting his chicken.
“I’d like to apologize for earlier. I was frustrated—as I’m sure you are—but that’s no reason for me to take it out on you or anyone else. Especially since I don’t know what you’ve all been through. Not really.”
He seemed to study me before he finally nodded. “I am frustrated, but I understand that you only wish to find a way home.”
“Well, I’d also like to help. If I can do something to break the curse or at least make things a bit more bearable while others work on that, I want to try.”
He gave me the tiniest of smiles. “What do you propose? An attempt to breach the barrier?”
Apparently, I could thaw the ice prince after all.
“Could we try that? Is one nearby?”
He shrugged one shoulder and went back to cutting up his chicken. “Less than an hour by horseback would bring us to the barrier with Spring. Our side is still land, but theirs is a deep lake now.”
“I can swim.”
He cocked his head at me. “Not afraid that the curse might try to drown you, too?”
I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth. “Well, I wasn’t…”
He chuckled.
“Do you want get rid of me in any way possible?” I said it teasingly, but I wasn’t sure I meant it that way.
The mirth left his face and he looked down at his plate. “No,” he said before he asked a question of the man on his other side.
I’d been dismissed, but I felt okay about that. At some point, we’d visit the barrier and see if I could get through. And spiky little Flurry didn’t hate me, which was also good.
I looked to my right and found Giselle grinning at me. I huffed a laugh, and she giggled, bumping my shoulder with hers. Clearly, she thought not wanting me dead was a sign of the prince’s growing affection for me. I decided to try and distract her.
“I have to ask, is this the curse or is it normal here?” I touched my shoulder.
“Pardon?”
“This.” I brushed at the snow on my shoulder.
“Oh. That’s the curse,” she said with a nod.
“So the Winter Court isn’t normally covered in ice and snow.”
“Well, the prince can make it so if he wishes, but this is a poor imitation of his skills.”
Interesting. “So it’s been done by someone who can’t make snow and ice at will,” I suggested.
“I suppose. Yes.” By her raised eyebrows, I took it to mean she thought that was interesting, too. Giselle lowered her voice to say, “Some think the king might’ve played a part in the curse beyond being sacrificed to it.”
Remembering Lars’ comments, I whispered back, “Like maybe he cursed the courts himself?”
She shushed me and looked around like maybe we could get in trouble for our conspiracy theories. But then she nodded ever so slightly before going back to her meal.
Honestly, I didn’t know everything, but it made sense to me that the king might do something drastic to stop his sons from fighting.
It hadn’t been wrestling in the backyard—they’d gone to war with each other.
And from the sound of it, more than once.
It hadn’t been the princes getting hurt, either, but their citizens actually dying.
What father wouldn’t want to smack some sense into his kids?
Was the curse a harsh punishment? Hell yes. More people had died. I had to wonder, though, whether they’d be at war right now without the curse preventing that. Two, three wars a year? Rinse and repeat year after year? Thousands of lives might’ve been saved in three years of isolation.
I had to think the princes understood now, though. Flurry seemed to, at least. The others might not be suffering in the same ways, but it could be bad in each of their courts, too. Had they all learned their lessons enough that, if the barriers came down today, they wouldn’t go to war again?
Was there more to the curse, like Giselle implied?
Maybe not learning to love, but there could be other life lessons tucked into the curse.
If their father was the curse-maker, that made sense.
Get them to do better and be better all at once.
Heavy-handed and brutal, sure, but that made me think the king might’ve been desperate.
“Everyone,” the prince said as he stood, “we’ll be traveling to the Spring barrier. If you wish to join us, be properly attired and outside the stables within the hour.”
He left the room with less urgency this time and no wings propelling him.
The conversation picked up as everyone speculated on what might happen, shared their thoughts on the poor horse’s demise, and offered their suggestions on how I might be more successful. None of them could remember the horse’s name. That felt like a bad sign to me.