Court of Winter (Fae of Snow & Ice, #1)(32)

“Magic.”

“From where?”

He smirked.

My jaw dropped. “Another affinity you’ve been hiding?”

He glanced down at me, that arrogant curve to his lips that I was becoming all too familiar with on full display. “I don’t hide anything. It’s not my fault if you’re unaware of my talents.”

“So you have an air elemental affinity too? Is that how you got us above the storm?”

“Perhaps.”

“And that’s how we’re breathing easier up here too? I’m assuming most fae can’t fly at this altitude?”

“Also correct.”

I glowered at him. “You know, for a simple farm girl from Mervalee, I seem to be making a lot of the correct deductions.”

“You are. Perhaps you’re not simple-minded after all.”

I scoffed. “But how am I breathing normally this high up?”

“I’ve created a bubble around us filled with dense air, and I have a concentrated stream of air at our backs, propelling us faster than my wings can carry us.”

For a moment, I just stared at him. His wings flapped occasionally, but for the most part he seemed to be gliding, letting his wings ride the currents in his magical bubble—currents that he’d probably constructed. No wonder he was so much faster than his guards.

“So let me get this straight, my prince. You have your death”—I could barely get the word out—“affinity, an illusion affinity, and you have an air affinity?”

“Among other things.”

I gaped. “You have more?”

He gave a barely perceptible shrug. “I was bred to be powerful.”

I frowned, but even though I was curious to learn more, I didn’t want him to think that I actually cared. Because I didn’t. It was just normal, is all, to be curious how a fairy could have so much magic.

I loosened my arms slightly from around his neck as the clouds drifted beneath us. Glancing over his shoulder, I searched for his guards, but they were long gone.

“You seem to be in the habit of leaving your guards behind.”

He shrugged. “I don’t need them at the moment, and they can be dreadfully slow.”

Despite trying to contain it, a snort escaped me when he smiled wickedly. “In all seriousness, why don’t you just create bubbles around them and use your magic to propel them at the same speed as us?”

“They don’t need the extra help, other than the denser air. Their affinities give them incredible strength, speed, and endurance. That’s why they were only an hour behind us yesterday.”

“Yet, you’re still faster than them despite their affinities.”

“I am. Now surely you don’t hold that against me too?”

“Well, I didn’t say that. I intend to hold everything against you.”

“As I’m coming to see.”

I frowned. “But don’t you want to keep them close, just in case you need their protection?”

He nodded toward the unbound atmosphere. “Their job is simply to protect me when I can’t protect myself, but up here, nothing can hurt me.”

He sounded so confident, so sure of that fact, and given the immense capability of his power that I’d seen so far, I had a feeling he was right.





CHAPTER 10





Despite the prince’s magic shooting us across the land toward the capital, it still took hours of flying. Beneath us, the angry clouds of the gale pummeling the Gielis Mountains fell behind us after we finally crossed the mountain range and descended into Prinavee Territory.

The clouds thinned and shifted from indigo and navy to light pink, soft yellow, snowy white, and translucent summer green. And as we flew farther, the clouds thinned even more until there was nothing but clear seafoam sky above us and bare land below.

When the weather truly calmed—something I knew would rarely happen come winter—the prince dispersed the magical bubble we were encapsulated in and drifted lower, allowing me to decipher more details of the land beneath us.

“Are those villages, my prince?” I asked, pointing.

The prince’s silvery hair was pulled back with another leather band, but today it was in a low ponytail. A few strands had pulled loose and twisted around his face, highlighting the planes and angles and his deep-seated eyes. “They are. As we get nearer to the capital, the city sizes grow, but we’re still a hundred millees away, so out here, they’re farming villages.”

“Like where I come from.”

“Correct. The land in my territory isn’t blessed as richly with orem as in your territory, but we still grow crops.”

The small village I’d spotted grew nearer. Within minutes, we were directly above it, and even sharper details were present.

Tiny houses and narrow streets ran in a gridwork pattern. The roads had been cleared of snow, but when I beheld the land around it and searched for the fields, I struggled to find any.

In my territory, the orem made the fields warm, and even if they were filled with snow, the crops still grew and flourished, often growing through the snow if the orem wasn’t able to completely melt it. But the signature bright colors of blue, burnt orange, green, marigold, dazzling red, and fuchsia—the rainbow of colors I would expect from fields of wheat, vegetables, and fruits—were absent. All I saw was a sea of white.