“Kel,” she whimpers.
That was close, too close. But I can’t say it wasn’t worth it.
She tilts her head to look outside. “It’s beautiful, Kel.”
Figuring enough time has passed to be safe, I gather her against me, and she molds perfectly into my arms.
“Promise me something,” she whispers. “One day, you will show me your realm. Not just the ballroom or through these dreams. I want to see it all for real.”
Sweeping the wet hair from her brow, I smile down at her. “I would love nothing more, my Rose. But I cannot promise you that. I do not even know when I will return.”
Her smile falls, sadness flickering across her features. “I have to finish getting ready.”
“Promise me something.”
“Of course.”
“Tonight, when you dance, look at the stars. Know that I’ll be looking at them, too, thinking of you.”
She grazes my jaw with her fingertips. “Goodbye, Kel.”
I blink and she’s gone, only rose-scented bubbles swirling around me.
Part Three
Spring’s Awakening
42
Ezryn
At moments like these, I wonder how I dared stay away from my realm for so long.
The Meadowmere Forest outside of Florendel has been drenched in all the splendor of Spring, decorated with magic and the beauty of our craftsmanship. If this weren’t a jubilee in my honor, perhaps I could enjoy it.
The air is filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers, carried by a gentle breeze that rustles through the ancient trees. In this magical hour of twilight, the sunlight shimmers purple through the dense canopy, creating dappled patterns on the forest floor. More than ever, I am thankful for the full moon tonight so I can savor this moment without transforming into my beast.
Savor it, because she’s on my arm. She who glows more beautifully than anything from the cosmos.
“Wow,” Rosalina gasps, eyes darting around to take in the celebration. I find myself smiling at how unabashedly she feels everything; there’s no thought to hide her joy or mask her pain. I wonder what it would be like to feel everything so freely.
Behind me, Dayton is speaking in a low voice to Farron. I offer the youngest of us princes a smile, then realize he can’t see it. Yet, Farron gives me a smile back. It is his right to enter the party with his mate on his arm, but he held no objection when Rosalina grabbed my elbow. I know she’ll go back to him—back to where she belongs—soon enough. But for this moment, I revel in the feel of her beside me.
The sound of laughter and mirth grows louder as we draw into the heart of the gathering. The jubilee is in full swing, and the woods have been transformed into a playground of wonder.
“What are those?” Rosalina points upward. Giant leaf pods move gently through the trees and down to the forest floor. One lands near us, and laughing partygoers step out. In a similar fashion, massive flowers, the size of a small room, keep their petals closed as they drift from one end of the party to another, before blooming and letting guests in or out. Each one is a tiny sanctuary of its own, providing quiet solace from the event or transporting guests around the clearing.
One flower pod, petals unfurled, carries the harmonious melodies of the orchestra. Their music fills the air, and Rosalina perks up, swaying to the rhythm.
Seven realms, has she ever looked so beautiful as when she is donning a dress of Spring? I knew Marigold would never miss the opportunity to show Rosalina the wondrous fashions of our home, but she has truly outdone herself.
Rosalina shines in vibrant colors and floral motifs. The sleeves, made of brilliant white lace, drape gracefully over her shoulders. Scarlet red, turquoise blue, and emerald green flowers are intricately embroidered over the bodice, seeming to come to life every time she sways. The pleated skirt hugs her hips. Each tier is adorned with embroidered blossoms in every color from the indigos of twilight to the golden hues of dawn.
She spins in a circle; her hair flows around her in soft waves, hundreds of tiny petals woven throughout. When she catches me looking at her, her eyes sparkle with a mischievous glimmer.
I want to kiss that smirk off her face.
She skips over to me and takes my hand. “Your home is magnificent, Ez.”
“I can take no credit for this. Kairyn is the one who organized the jubilee.” I wave away a cluster of fireflies that dance near my face.
Fae nod to me as we walk through the party, though some have already partaken in too much drink, for their eyes are glazed, movements slumbrous.
Rosalina waves to everyone.
When a leaf pod dips near us and opens to uncover a table laden with food, she squeals and insists we try one of everything. When across the party, a flower blossoms to reveal a harpist, she grabs my hand and yanks me through the whole event to stand before them. Tears prick her eyes at the music. And when we catch sight of Dayton and Farron swaying together under the rising moon, she stares at them wistfully.