Chapter Two
JOON
A dark shadow looms just beyond the edges of my vision as I traverse the darkened corridors. Nothing but silence reaches my ears. Beyond the leaded windows, stars shine impossibly bright against the clear, dark night without the moon to command the attention of all who look toward the heavens.
This is the only home I have ever known, yet everything is unfamiliar.
Terror thrums through my veins, urging me to run… to flee back the way I came. I am helpless to fight the compulsion controlling my body, keeping me moving forward. The halls twist and turn in on themselves with no end in sight—a labyrinth of shadows.
The polished wood is painfully cold beneath my bare feet. I stop before an opening in the floor. Stairs spiral deep into the dark depths where something ominous and vicious waits.
Whispers in my ear layer atop each other like a hundred tiny voices. Words I cannot quite understand, yet I feel their demand in my bones. The pull to descend is undeniable.
Spiraling steps lead down to dizzying depths below the palace. Continuing until it’s all I know anymore. An endless eternity, stretching out.
I blink and I’m standing on solid ground before a rough-hewn opening, a path of dirt and sharp rocks that cut into my bare flesh with every step. But still, I’m driven forward.
Darkness swallows the world, until all that is left is the path a few feet ahead. The umbra pushes and shoves me onward until I stop before a rippling mirror coated in frost.
My hand, small like that of a child, reaches out, and I press it to the smooth surface. It crackles under my palm as it clears to reveal my reflection. The face is mine, but the smile spreading across my mouth is not.
“It didn’t have to be this way,” the boy who is me but not me says in a rasping, harsh voice of a man I do not recognize. “They didn’t have to die for you.”
Die… for me? Who?
I don’t understand what he means. Why would anyone have to die for my sake?
The reflection twists and lengthens, reshaping to a tall figure. A man I do not know, shrouded in shadow. He lifts his head and… it is my face, twisted in rage and disgust and hate. “You killed them!”
No! I try to shout, but my mouth refuses to move.
I jerk back. A crack forms in the glass where my palm was. The fissure spreads, spiderwebbing out to the edges. The mirror shatters in a violent explosion. I raise my arms to cover my face, but I’m not fast enough—a searing pain pierces my eye.
Blood fills my vision as I drop to my knees. Slowly, I lift my head. The mirror is whole again. My body trembles violently at what I see in the pristine surface.
A large fragment of glass protrudes from my eye. I rip it out and fall forward, catching myself with my hands.
“You are nothing. Less than nothing.”
Slow footsteps circle me as the words echo around me. I can only stare at the scar cutting through my eye from brow to cheek.
“The world will see you for what you are. Weak and pathetic.”
I try to scream but can’t find my voice.
“You do not deserve the peace of death for what you have done.”
I try to think about what he means and fail.
The voice continues speaking, but the words become too muffled, growing farther and farther away until they fade entirely.
I lift my head. I am alone before the mirror that is somehow whole again. A faint ghostly shimmer of lines dances over the surface.
My reflection behind the ghostly shapes is nothing more than a fourteen-year-old boy.
The slash through my eye has become a pale scar. As a member of the royal family, I was born with the ability to heal, the innate magic erasing all traces. This line is a sign of weakness—that I lack even the ability to heal completely.
A deafening roar fills my ears as something deep within struggles to break free.
Blinding pain rips through me as impenetrable darkness swallows my consciousness.
I bolt upright, drenched in a cold sweat. A deep ache lingers from the dream as all detail fades from my mind, leaving behind nothing but fear, self-loathing, and regret too strong to escape.
Light streams in from the window. It is mid-morning. Although I slept in, I do not feel rested.
A shrill warning bell goes off, signaling that the magical wards placed around the forest have been broken. The sound is silent to all except for me and two others.
Who would dare cross the border just to forfeit their life at my hands?
I throw the blankets off and climb out of bed. Dressing quickly, I ignore the fact that I am the only royal in my family’s line to ever perform such a menial task on my own.
After the first year, I grew to prefer it this way. Now, the idea of having anyone dress me would feel awkward, as if I were nothing but a mere plaything for servants.
A frost-white dragon, nearly the length of my forearm, passes into my room through a wall. “The wards have been breached,” they say.
“I am aware, Imugi,” I snap.
They are entirely unfazed by the terse reply as they float in large circles above my head. “Perhaps it is a faulty warning?” they offer. “It’s been years since a human dared.”
I snarl at the demon, and in response, they draw up, curling their long body to face me. Their winter-blue eyes flash the red of molten gold.
The moment is broken by a knock at the door.
“What is it?” From the pure irritation in my voice, no one could mistake my mood for anything pleasant.
Instead of a response, the door slides open and my second steps through, closing it before rushing over.
The king’s messenger bows, then straightens without bothering to wait for the order to do so.
Few could get away with such informality, though he is careful to show proper respect when necessary.
“My Prince, King Sameun wishes to see you. Allow me to scout the forest to find the cause of the alert.” Mingi is very careful with his words, making the last part nearly soundless in case one of the palace spies happens to be listening in.
I grab my riding jacket and unceremoniously yank my hat onto my head with more force than necessary. “Unfortunately, my uncle must wait to ask, yet again, if I am ready to accept the crown,” I bite out. “There are matters I must attend to first that cannot be put off. I am sure he will understand.”
With that, I stride past Mingi and throw open the door. A passing woman squeaks in surprise and rushes off, darting around the nearest corner.
Imugi rushes to curl around my neck, secure in the safety of the shade of my hat, while Mingi trails behind, hand resting on the pommel of his sword.
As we leave the Western Court’s corridors and step outside, everyone in the vicinity is careful to avert their gaze and bow at the waist.
We stop at the entrance to the stable, and within moments, two horses are saddled and brought out. No words are spoken as Mingi and I mount our waiting horses, then ride through the front gate.
Once the palace is out of sight, I close my eyes and focus on the location where the alarm sounded as I summon the fae road, changing the path ahead.
It is not simply that a human dared to break one of the Old Laws—for that, I might have sent Mingi—it was the specific location breached.
This is a matter I must attend to personally.
The timing seems anything but coincidental. It could be a plot concocted by one of my enemies within the palace walls. Luring an unsuspecting human to do their dirty work.
My gut twists at the possibilities. I am already running short on time. Whether by mistake or design, I will hunt down this trespasser and make them regret crossing me.
Trees slip past at blurring speed. I urge my mount faster.
My tenuous hold on my power slips further with every passing year. The beast within me stirs earlier each time. It is too soon. Yet, it is not entirely unexpected. It will not be long before I lose control entirely.
Fury and fear mix like a bitter storm in my blood.
“Imugi!” I grind out, “Can’t this infernal animal go any faster?”
They act without needing to respond. A puff of frost extends from the dragon-like demon’s mouth, drifting with intention toward the horse’s muzzle as if we stood still. The animal inhales, pulling the misty cloud into its lungs.
Instantly, we pick up speed. I hear Mingi shouting as we leave him behind. He will catch up. But this dark foreboding clings to my back like a monster intent on swallowing me whole.
I must see for myself if what I fear is true or if it’s a lingering fragment left behind by the nightmare.
The horse’s hooves pound like thunder in time with the beating of my pulse.
After what feels like a torturous eternity, I catch sight of the border in the distance. I pull on the reins and leap from the saddle before my mount has come to a stop. Paying no heed to the cursed ice that engulfs the land, I race to the small clearing.
A harmony of lesser demons has gathered in the shadows around the area, fighting over some object even as they shriek and recoil from the diffused sunlight.
I lift a hand and send out an icy blast, sending them scattering.
My chest heaves with labored breaths. I come up short and stare in disbelief.
The flower is gone.
Nothing remains but the stubs of cleanly cut stocks. Even without a closer inspection, it’s clear that this work was done by the hand of a human.
Demon shit.
It takes great effort to suppress the storm building inside.
“Imugi, search the area,” I grind out.
I approach the scene of the crime with measured steps and crouch. Those infernal lesser demons have trampled the traces of footprints. In my attempts to conserve as much power as possible, I have been lax in my duties.
Pressing a palm to the ground, I let my power build, then send it flowing into the land, strengthening the barrier against the Otherworld that allows the frost bloom to grow.
A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. I grit my teeth against the bone-deep ache of my limited magic leeching from my veins.
When it is done, I exhale and sit on the ground, resting my arms over bent knees, not caring how unroyal it is to let the dirt soil my clothes.
“I caught a lesser demon trying to bury this just beyond the border,” Imugi says, floating from between two trees.
They drop their findings onto my outstretched hand—a lone, delicate glove.
What would a demon want with this?
I bring it to my nose and inhale deeply. Beyond the smoky scent of demons is that of a human woman. Light and floral with a hint of ink. An unusual combination.
There is no doubt that it belongs to the one who stole this flower.
No other frost bloom will be ready for harvest this year—let alone in the next five days.
The curse on this land made sure of that.
All but a few of these plants were wiped out, leaving only a single plant to come to maturity once a year, counting down to the time when I will lose control completely—and permanently.
Without it, we are all doomed.
Pain pierces my skull as the beast within me struggles to break free. I grunt. Imugi is speaking, but I can’t focus on what they’re saying.
Too soon. It’s too soon. The dragon fights against its binds. It shouldn’t be waking so soon.
Relief flows over me as Imugi envelops me in a fog of their power, lending me the temporary strength I need.
“Thank you,” I murmur, finally getting to my feet.
The hurried thunder of a rider approaches from down the road. It took him less time than expected to catch up.
“My Prince,” Mingi calls out. He leaps from his horse and races the rest of the way. “What did you find? What happened?”
I crumple the glove in my fist. I will find that woman before the day is through—and for her sake, she better hope part of that plant is still viable.
“I will need you to cover for me until tonight.”
“Your Highness, let me accompany you—”
I face him. “You will be more useful here. I will return before the moon is at its peak.”
He frowns, clearly not liking this. “Will you at least tell me what you plan to do?”
Besides Imugi, he and his sister Iseul are the only ones I trust enough with the truth. He knows what I must do and how. Yet, still, I hesitate. “I will explain upon my return.”
Mingi presses his mouth into a tight line. It’s as far as he will allow his defiance to go.
I return to my horse, waiting patiently and fully restored. Imugi expended their powers more than I noticed. “Go with Mingi,” I order gently.
“But—”
“I will not do anything that requires my power. The sun will only drain you further. So go and rest. You have done enough for today.”
Mingi and Imugi depart quietly. I wait until they are out of sight, and the road they travel vanishes.
Then I turn my mount in the opposite direction and ride, following the faint scent that matches the glove.
Such minor magic is negligible, and most common fae are capable of the same in some limited capacity.
The woman’s trail takes me to the nearest human city. I pause on the crest of a hill overlooking the people bustling about as they go about their mundane lives.
I use my glamour to transform my clothing and disguise my features that would give me away.
Upon entering the city, a myriad of scents mingles, muddying the trail—food, oil, smoke, perfume on skin, and more I don’t care to identify.
I move through the streets, for the most part, ignored by the inhabitants.
For a moment, I lose the trail before picking it up again.
After it happens several more times, my patience runs out.
I use my power to distinguish the traces of the woman I seek, and call up a shimmering blue thread, visible only to those with fae blood in their veins or who were given the gift of fairy sight. It leads me past several humble homes and further into the city center.
The end of the glowing blue thread is wrapped around a woman as she enters a building across the street. She disappears inside and does not emerge again.
The force of my full ire rises to the surface. I wait. She cannot remain in there forever.
I will break my promise to Imugi before I leave this place.