64. Rosalina
64
Rosalina
A terrible cry escapes my throat as I watch Dayton fall. I collapse on the balcony, clutching the railing. My body trembles like the arrows pierce my own chest. “Dayton!”
“Lady Rosalina!” Astrid runs up to my side. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
Thankfully, she and Marigold are safe, and Papa is secure in the keep.
“I can’t just watch this,” I say, tears streaming down my face. Below, Coppershire is burning, Farron is trapped inside his beast, Ezryn’s surrounded by a sea of goblins, and Dayton’s fallen. I don’t know if he’ll ever get up…
And inside, safe after throwing up in a bucket, is the High Prince of Winter.
Something seethes within me, and I crawl toward him on shaking arms. Traveling through the briars has left my body so weak.
“Oh, dearie,” Marigold says, and she and Astrid hoist me up under my arms.
“Take me to my mate,” I snarl.
They exchange a worried glance and carry me into the room.
Kel’s on the floor, knees to his chest, a glass of water and an empty bucket beside him. At least the vomiting has stopped.
Carefully, Marigold and Astrid lower me to the ground, then back away.
Keldarion turns to me, eyes glassy and rimmed with red, his expression one of twisted torment.
“I shouldn’t have let him make that bargain,” he says. “I knew better. I know better.”
His large hands are wrapped over his forearms. Red scratch lines score the bargain tattoo on his wrist, as if he tried to peel off his very skin.
The utter agony erupting from his soul ebbs into mine. I can hardly bear it. “This is my fault, too.” I shake my head. “I thought I could get through to him. That maybe somewhere deep down, there was goodness in Caspian.”
But I was wrong about him. I should have listened to Kel. There is no sympathy left in me for the Prince of Thorns.
“Do not degrade yourself because he took advantage of your kind heart,” Keldarion mumbles. “I should have shielded you from his darkness.”
I glance at the window. “They’re out there, Kel. Farron, Dayton, and Ez.” Tears pool down my cheeks. “We need to help them.”
“You drained yourself freeing us from the Below.” Keldarion sighs. “The revelry poisoned me. There is nothing I am capable of. I corrupt whatever I touch.”
“Start by standing.” I grip his shirt, trying to heave him up, but my arms are so weak and he’s so heavy.
“After what I’ve done? I’ve failed my realm, failed Farron. I’ve failed you. How can you bear to look at me?”
“I’m not looking at you.” I clutch his face. “I see you.”
He tries to pull away, but I hold him firm. “No, listen. You pretend to hide in Castletree because you don’t care. But that’s not true. All you do is care. For the realm, for the princes, for me.”
“Do not paint me as a hero.”
“It is the truth of who you are. You came for me on the ice, then sent me away, even resisting our bond, to keep me safe. You’ve distanced yourself from your realm since you were cursed. Was it shame? Or were you afraid Caspian would turn his thorns upon Winter if you spent too much time there? You came to defend Autumn against a frost despite the accusations. And you let Farron make his own decisions, setting aside your own desires.”
“All that has only led us here,” he says.
“Where we can still make this right. They’re hurt and lost and frightened. Can’t you feel them? They need us.”
“My Rose,” he rasps, “if you only knew how selfish my wretched heart truly is.”
“Wretched or not, I know what your heart does best.” I drop my forehead to his in surrender. “Shelter those you care about.”
I kiss him gently, feeling my shattered heart blazing to life against his touch. His mouth opens to mine in a longing sigh. The fire grows. The bond between us stirs in pleasure and might. “Kel, my mate, you are the Protector of the Realms,” I say. “So protect them.”