Chapter 10 Dayton
Dayton
So here we are again. Me and old turquoise. My little rose looks a lot better than the last time I saw her. Back then, she was wilted, brown creeping along the edges. Now, the blue petals are blooming bright and—I dare say—it’s even perky.
I sit cross-legged on the stone floor of the High Tower, fingers hovering above my rose. The dark purple brambles surrounding it have shifted to gold, like Farron’s did when he broke his curse.
I pour my magic in the rose, and it absorbs my strength.
It feels as if the castle is trying to claim me, root me here.
Closing my eyes, I draw in a slow breath, letting the flow of power surge through my bones.
Castletree’s need is a silent, pressing weight, a cup that can’t get full.
The castle feels frail, weary, its branches strained as if barely holding together.
The roses along the golden briars begin to unfurl, petal by petal. Castletree’s magic intertwines with my own, in turn strengthening Summer’s blessing. Even as I focus, my thoughts drift to Rosalina.
She’s sitting across from me, Spring’s rose cupped between her hands, blush-pink petals blooming under her touch.
She told me on the way here how she’s guarding Spring’s blessing.
Though she didn’t say it in so many words, I know she wants to return it to Ezryn.
It’s a dangerous thing to pass a blessing—let alone give it back to someone who’s already had it.
But we don’t need to worry about that. Rosalina’s more likely to move a mountain than change Ezryn’s mind once it’s made up. And he doesn’t want his blessing back.
Now, her face is calm, eyes half-closed, and magic flows from her in steady waves. Currents of energy radiate from her, filling the tower with sunshine.
In the dim light, Rosalina looks ethereal, her features softened by the golden glow, her dark hair framing her face.
She’s pouring herself into that rose, like I am, but with a peace that steadies me.
I’m doing this for Castletree, for the land, but seeing her like this reminds me of why I keep fighting.
I’m doing this for her. For my mate.
A faint ache stirs in my chest, exhaustion whispering at the edges of my mind, but I push it aside, digging deeper. I will the turquoise petals to drink my power in.
A soft touch on my arm brings me back to reality. Rosalina kneels beside me.
“That’s enough.”
I nod, standing and reaching my arms to the sky. Damn, I know that doing this strengthens me, but it also gives me the bone-deep exhaustion of an intense training session. “Could go for a dip in the hot springs after that.”
Rosalina’s smile falters.
I let out a sigh. “Right. No more Summer wing in Castletree. Hadria under the sea. What am I even a prince of?”
Rosalina takes my hands in hers. I know she still carries guilt for what happened in the Summer wing, even though I’ve tried so many times to assure her that it wasn’t her fault.
“We’ll rebuild it,” she says.
“Better than before.” I nip the bottom of her ear. “Including a little cavern in the hot springs, perfect to escape to when we don’t want any prying eyes.”
“What about a waterslide?”
“Perfection.” I scoop her in my arms and kiss her. “Tell me, Blossom. Did you come to Castletree to refresh the roses or for another reason?”
Rosalina raises a dark brow. “I did need to give magic to Castletree.”
“And anything else?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I press our foreheads together. “Come on, Rosie. You’ve been looking at me like I’m going to disappear since I arrived in Frostfang.”
She knots her fingers into my tunic. “But you did disappear.”
Dreads crawls through my stomach. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“Alright.” She loops her arms around my waist. “But don’t be mad if I want to keep you close for a little while, okay?”
Her touch replaces that dread with warmth, and I draw Rosalina against me. Gods, she feels so good in my arms.
“Absolutely no objections to that. Would it be inappropriate to throw you down on these briars and eat you out right here in the High Tower?” I nip at the soft skin of her neck. “Sort of like fucking in a monastery.”
She tilts her head, beautiful brown curls spilling over her shoulders. “I’m yours, Day, body and soul and heart. Anytime, anywhere.”
“That’s a dangerous offer.” I draw her into a deep kiss, sliding my hands down to pull on her skirts. “What if I want to throw you down on Keep Wolfhelm’s dining table just to piss Kel off?”
“How can you always make me laugh when everything feels so heavy around us?”
“So I’ll take that as a yes?”
A scream sounds from down the stairs. We both straighten, and I instinctually draw Rosie closer.
Rosalina’s eyes widen, and she bolts to the doorway. “That sounded like Marigold.”
“Rosie, wait!” I sprint after her. My boots hammer against the stone as we race down the spiraling staircase.
We burst into the entrance hall, and my stomach drops. At the bottom of the grand staircase, Marigold is pressed against the far wall, her face pale as death, her chest heaving. In front of her, a massive bison snorts, its horns lowered.
“That’s Konreth,” Rosie gasps.
Konreth, a member of the Winter staff.
“It’s daytime. Why is he in his animal form?
” The staff rarely, if ever, shift to their animal forms during the day.
But the way Konreth is stamping…it’s not a person in there.
It’s a beast. My heart sinks. This is far too familiar from when Farron lost himself to his wolf and eerily similar to Keldarion today.
Could that have something to do with it?
“Stay back!” I bark at Rosalina, throwing out my arm to stop her. She ducks under it, her skirts flying as she runs straight into danger.
Gods damn it, Rosie.
I slide down the railing, passing Rosie and landing in a tangle of briars. Konreth turns to me and snorts, pawing at the ground again, his muscles coiling like a spring about to snap. I take a steadying breath, letting the magic stir in my veins.
The bison lunges.
A quick flick of my wrist, and a blast of wind slams into the beast’s side, throwing it off course. It skids wide, and in that split second, I dive forward to grab Marigold.
“Hang on!” I grunt, rolling us out of the way as the bison crashes into one of the pillars. My back hits the ground, and I shield her with my body as the beast shakes its head, disoriented.
“You alright?” I help her to her feet.
“Oh my!” Marigold screams, placing a hand over her chest. “I don’t know what’s making my heart race more: almost getting speared by that bison or being rescued by the strapping High Prince of Summer.”
It’s all I can do to flash her a wink before Rosalina moves toward Konreth. “Rosie, stop! Don’t get too close!”
But she doesn’t listen—she never does. She raises her hands, golden briars sprouting from the earth between Caspian’s purple ones. They wrap around the bison, but not in an aggressive way. They’re gentle. I slow to a jog, noticing the briars have no thorns.
The bison snorts, his glowing eyes narrowing in confusion. His muscles coil as if readying to charge again, but Rosie’s briars hold him still. The tension in his massive body eases, breaths coming slower, less ragged. He lowers his frame to the ground.
I stay close, my fingers twitching. If the beast so much as flinches toward her, I’ll be ready.
Rosalina kneels, her skirts pooling around her until she’s face-to-face with the bison. She moves with a steady grace. Her dark curls spill over her shoulders as she presses her forehead against the beast’s broad snout.
“I know who you are,” she whispers, her voice so quiet I almost miss it.
The bison freezes. His eyes widen, and I swear something shifts in them—recognition, perhaps, or guilt. The golden briars glow.
“You’re not lost,” she continues. “You’re not a monster. You’re still you. Konreth of Winter, come back to us.”
I feel the weight of her words in my chest. Her compassion, her strength—it’s what saved me and Fare. There’s rustling around me, and I see some of the other staff have poked their heads out of the doorways. They’re watching Rosalina with a strange expression. Almost reverent.
The bison exhales a shuddering breath. The air shimmers, and the bison’s form shifts. Fur recedes, horns shrink, limbs reshape, until a man is kneeling before her, pale and trembling, light hair sticking to his brow.
“Steady on, lad.” Eldor of Spring walks up and wraps a cloak around Konreth’s naked form, helping him to his feet.
The young man mumbles something to Rosalina, who touches his cheek before she heads toward me. Eldy leads him up the stairs, but I hear him mumbling over and over, “I couldn’t change. I couldn’t change back. I was trapped. Trapped.”
Rosalina looks between me and Marigold. “What’s going on?”
“Konreth and I were tidying the entrance hall when he shifted,” Marigold explains. “No warning. There wasn’t a shred of the boy in there.”
I cross my arms, jaw tightening. “Marigold, what aren’t you telling us?”
Marigold hesitates. “It’s been happening more often to the Spring and Winter staff,” she says. “We’re finding it harder and harder to hold our human forms during the day.”
“What?” Rosalina says.
“The first time, it was Mandaria,” Marigold said. “She was a little penguin. We locked her in the Winter wing, let her slide around, and she snapped out of it after a few hours.”
“You should have told us,” Rosalina says.
Marigold shakes her head. “What good would it have done?”
And she’s right. Kel refuses to break his curse, and who the fuck knows what’s happening with Ezryn.
“There’s another problem,” Marigold says, her voice trembling. “Something you need to see.”
Rosie turns to me, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The entrance hall is too quiet, the air too heavy. Whatever this is, it’s not just an overly excited bison.
It’s much bigger.