Thorns of Frost (Fae of Snow & Ice, #2)(33)

His footsteps continued quietly beside me before he said hesitantly, “What if I didn’t kill your parents, what then?”

My heart stopped. Just when I’d started to truly think that maybe, just maybe, the crown prince wasn’t a monster and that he did harbor true kindness in his black soul, he had to go and throw that in my face.

“Don’t be cruel.” Ice formed around my heart, and I swallowed the tears that wanted to come as I walked even faster.

“Ilara, can I trust you?”

My brow furrowed as I abruptly stopped and faced him, my chest heaving. “Why are you asking me that again?”

He glanced over my shoulder, down the hall. The faint sound of servants reached my ears. “Perhaps I’ll explain another time.”

“Explain what?” I demanded as I rounded the final turn, and Jovin appeared. “What are you hiding now?”

But his mask had descended. Any hint of what his cryptic words would reveal had vanished.

I brought a hand to my forehead. Fatigue hit me suddenly. The prince was hiding something again, perhaps many things. He was a male of shadows and darkness, death and destruction, and whenever a hint was revealed as to what truly lay within him, a veil always descended, blocking me out. The Bringer of Darkness always stared back at me.

And right now, following too much champagne and leminai, a grueling day of training, and the late hour . . . I couldn’t process his riddles, and quite bluntly, I didn’t want to.

I sighed heavily.

The prince stroked a finger across my cheek, featherlight and so fleeting that only the trail of goosebumps left in its wake told me I hadn’t imagined it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

In a wink of mistphasing magic, just as I reached my bed chambers door that Jovin began to open, he disappeared.





Every morning over the next three days, I trained with Sandus and returned religiously to the Isalee field to heal what I could, followed by grueling lessons with Matron Olsander in the afternoons, which always bled into the early evening.

Each day was similar, exhausting, draining, yet exhilarating. But there was one change to my new daily duties—the prince no longer stayed with me in Isalee.

Every morning after he mistphased me to the field, he would cast warded magic around my work area before disappearing. If any snowgums came prowling, the wards would alert his guards, giving them precious seconds to mistphase me out of there.

Luckily, the giant cat that I’d burned during the previous attack had yet to make an appearance, and I had a feeling it remembered my scent and chose to stay away. I had no idea how badly I’d burned it, but its skin had been charred in places. And luckily, considering they were territorial creatures, I had a feeling it was the only giant cat in the area for millees.

As though the prince had come to the same conclusion, he seemed to feel comfortable that my safety wasn’t compromised, so each day he left me in Isalee with his magic in place, under his guards’ care, and asked me to continue my work.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d regretted our date, perhaps regretted many things regarding me, especially when stress lines marred his features, and his manner remained closed off and guarded.

I tried not to care that for the first time since he’d begun demanding that I use my affinity to heal our land that he wasn’t at my side, and I firmly reminded myself that his absence was what I wanted. Yet his presence had become familiar in a way, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it—I missed him.

“What is it you’re doing every day?” I finally asked him on day three, no longer able to keep my curiosity at bay.

“Princely duties,” he replied, annoyance in his tone.

“Oh . . . sorry I asked,” I mumbled as I slipped off my gloves and plunged my hands through the snow toward the dirt. A bubble of the prince’s magic surrounded me and his guards, so despite the howling wind and fierce cold, where I worked was relatively comfortable.

A low growl came from the prince, and then he knelt by my side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Haxil glanced over his shoulder at us, but when the prince bared his teeth, the guard turned back around.

I shoved my hand more through the snow, my movement agitated. “It’s fine. It’s not my concern. You don’t need to explain what you do to me or divulge how you spend your time.” I broke through a layer of ice at ground level. Cold, dry soil greeted my searching fingers.

“Perhaps not, but I didn’t mean to sound irritated with you. It’s not you who’s annoying me. Council meetings are what have been pulling me back to the castle. I’ve been missing them as of late, and my father isn’t happy.”

“Oh.” My erratically beating heart slowed as I remembered Lord Crimsonale’s visit to the healing infirmary, and it struck me anew that spending all morning at my side while I worked the fields was incredibly draining of the prince’s time. It also reaffirmed that I literally had no idea what the crown prince normally did or what his daily duties were, which reminded me of what he’d said on our date. With royalty comes demands. With demands come chains.

“Do you normally attend all council meetings?” I asked hesitantly.

His irritated scowl didn’t lessen. He tore a hand through his hair. It was unbound today, and silver locks hung loosely around his strong jaw. “I’m supposed to, although our meetings haven’t been pleasant lately.”