“You don’t know, do you?” I ask. “Have you even talked to your metal dog? Last I saw, he had his hands around your throat.”
“Kairyn is conflicted. I never thought that idiot High Prince would actually make him steward. Kairyn has to realize it’s not enough. It can’t be enough.”
“Maybe it’s enough for him. The love and acceptance of a High Prince is a tantalizing thing.”
“He could be a High Prince,” Birdy hisses, pacing. “As the steward, it’s his right to pass judgment, and their creed demands death for such crimes as Ezryn committed. Kairyn could inherit Spring’s Blessing; he could get everything he’s ever wanted.”
I shift slightly. “Would any of that matter to Kairyn if Ezryn is too dead to witness it?”
Birdy lets out an enraged growl, knocking a whole row of books off my shelf. “He can’t choose Ezryn over me!” Her eyes widen. “I mean our plan. Our vision for Spring, for the Enchanted Vale.”
“We’ll see.”
She shakes her head and begins to forcefully tug on her armor. “Get better, Cas. Kairyn isn’t my only plan in motion. All flowers rot, even roses. I will prove my worth to Mother.”
“Wr—Wait.” I push myself up on my forearms. “If you kill Rosalina, it will destroy you, too.”
She pulls her mask over her face, thorns rising around her. “Don’t worry, big brother. I died a long time ago.”
The thorns carry her under, and I fall back down to the mattress. She’ll try to go after Rosalina again. The only thing that keeps me racing after her is a single thought: she’s underestimated Rosalina.
The world has. And when the time comes, she’ll glow so brightly, no one will be able to stop her.
87
Dayton
Early morning light shines over the ramparts of Keep Hammergarden. A gentle wind blows, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms.
My family and I wait together as if at a funeral.
Kel, Farron, Rosalina, and I stand in a row, peering over the stone rampart wall that looks over the main gates of the keep. Down below, a wooden dais has been crafted overnight. A crowd has begun to gather. Their hushed whispers merge together to form a near-deafening roar.
We were all confined to the keep last night. For safeguarding, Kairyn called it. We all knew the truth of it. He didn’t want any of us getting ideas about breaking Ezryn out of his own confinement. Not that I even have any magic right now. Farron drained it all to save Rosie, and I won’t be able to replenish it until we return to Castletree.
Despite the guards roaming the keep, I know any one of us—Rosie included—could have broken Ez out. But Kel’s words rang in my mind my whole sleepless night: This is his will.
Realms damn him, why does Ezryn have to be so bloody honorable?
At least those three had each other last night.
“The wait is killing me.” Farron digs his hands into his hair. “Can’t we bribe Kairyn to stop this? Threaten him? I’m not above well-executed coercion.”
“This isn’t about Kairyn, and you know it,” Kel growls. The Sword of the Protector gleams on his back, poking out of its sheath. Rosie had thrown it in the lake to hide it from the Below, and thankfully we were able to retrieve it before returning to the keep.
Ezryn’s storm had churned it up from the bottom of the lake, and Rosie had spotted it among the debris. “Ezryn would never forgive us if we removed his own agency to follow the oaths and traditions of his people.”
Below, the gates creak open, and a hush falls over the crowd. Kairyn marches out, black cape flapping. His father trails behind, being carried on a litter by four Spring guards. Each step of Kairyn’s heavy boots up the dais clangs through the air. I notice the crack in his mask has been patched with a line of gold.
The soldiers carefully place the litter down beside Kairyn. By the gods, Thalionor looks terrible. I can’t even see his face, but it’s evident by his posture: stiff hands clutching the armrests, head lolling on his chest. Yellow ooze drips from beneath the helm over his neck. I wouldn’t be surprised if they put a helm on a corpse and called him Prince.
A sob sounds, and I look down the ramparts to see Marigold and Astrid. Marigold’s leaning heavily on Astrid’s shoulder as the younger fae rubs her back. I know Marigold has served Ezryn since he was a child; this can’t be any easier for her than it is for us.
“Does the crowd seem odd to you?” Farron mutters, nudging Kel.
“What do you mean?”