“You mean Caspian,” I say lowly.
Dayton picks up his pace. “Like I said. It was a long time ago.”
“The Prince is right though, Rosalina,” Marigold says. “The royal family has always been very strict. Best to keep your wits about you until we find Prince Ezryn.”
I nod and walk closer to Marigold. It’s like being back in her home realm has imbued her with extra confidence. She struts with chin held high, hips sashaying back and forth.
The buildings are low-pitched with clay tile roofs. Each door is elaborately carved with a fa?ade depicting everything from nature to epic battles. I find myself lingering to take everything in, and Astrid yanks hard on my elbow so I don’t fall behind.
As we turn a corner, my eye catches on something up in the mountains, and I gasp. A massive cherry blossom tree juts out of the side of the cliff, seeming to defy the laws of nature. Its branches stretch and intertwine, forming an intricate network of paths and chambers. A castle.
Not just any castle. Castletree. Spring’s version of the illusion that appears in every realm.
And at its base lies a formidable keep carved into the very mountain itself. Huge rose-colored stone walls covered in ivy block our path, hemming in giant wooden doors engraved with spiraling leaves. It reminds me of Ezryn’s necklace. Castletree’s pale pink blossoms drift down like confetti, creating a pink walkway up to the gates.
Two guards stand sentinel on either side. They’re clad in steel armor with heavy helmets, yet their faces are not covered. Come to think of it, none of the citizens wore helms like Ezryn. It’s only the royal family who must cover their faces, I remind myself.
“Let me do the talking,” Dayton whispers as we approach the guards. “Hail, good servants of Spring. I, High Prince Daytonales, seek entry to the Hall of Vernalion for an audience with High Prince Ezryn.”
The guards look at each other, then back at Dayton. “Do you have an appointment?”
I catch the tic in Dayton’s jaw. “No, I don’t have an appointment. But if you tell Ezryn—”
“The High Prince,” the other guard interjects, “is in a meeting with the steward. They are not to be interrupted.”
Dayton flashes a grin that could coax a smile out of stone. “I appreciate your diligence, but Prince Thalionor will be more than delighted to hear I’ve come—”
“Prince Thalionor is no longer the steward,” the guard says dully. “Prince Kairyn rules Florendel now.”
A strangled beat of silence passes between us. Dayton blinks. “Kairyn? That’s impossible. You must let me through—”
“No appointment, no audience.” The guard shrugs.
A cloud falls over Dayton’s face, brow furrowing with anger.
“We have to do something,” I whisper to Marigold, “otherwise I think Dayton’s going to be the first one to break his own minding-temper rule.”
Marigold clears her throat and pushes past me and Astrid to stand beside Dayton. “Why, if it isn’t little Antonio and little Filipe. I see you’ve finally made guard duty! Quite the improvement from when I was last here. Weren’t you both on latrine duty?”
“L-Lady Marigold!” the one on the left—Antonio—cries. “We weren’t expecting you!”
“You look as beautiful as ever, my lady,” Filipe mumbles. “Radiant as the sun…”
“Save it,” she barks. “A High Prince would never have been treated this way when I ran the household. And I can only imagine if the majordomo hears about such insolence—”
“It’s orders, milady!” Antonio cries. “Only those approved by Prince Kairyn may enter.”
“A High Prince requires no such approval. Bring me Majordomo Eldor and we shall get to the bottom of this idiocy.”
Filipe snaps to attention. “T-that’s not necessary. Prince Daytonales, we shall show you to the throne room. But … the others have to stay here.” His eyes flash to me and Astrid.
“They stay with me,” Dayton growls.
“With all due respect, High Prince, unvetted visitors are not allowed in the Hall of Vernalion. There have been dark deeds conspiring of late,” Antonio says.
I place a hand on Dayton’s arm. “It’s okay. You and Marigold go ahead. Astrid and I will wait right here. Once you find Ezryn, this will all be sorted.”
A pained expression flashes across Dayton’s face, but Marigold nudges his arm. “I’ll stay too and watch over her. Don’t get that pretty face in a knot.”