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Instinctively, I tucked my mangled silver wings against my back.

“Those metal rods must be quite painful,” Warden Roar continued. “And I assume you cannot fly with them in?”

“No,” I said. “I’ve had them since I was a small child, so I’ve never flown.”

I’d never considered the option that one day I might fly. But now, he had enticed me.

“Could you really extract the rods?” Even saying the words made my heart rate speed up.

“I have an excellent healer. If anyone can help you, it’s her. Would you like to visit her and get them removed once you’ve eaten?”

“I would. Would this be part of your proposal?”

“No. This is simply what’s right.”

I swallowed, struck by the kindness. Perhaps I’d heard wrong about the fae of Winter? Frode might have betrayed me but this lord seemed valiant indeed.

“I’d appreciate that,” I said finally. “As for your proposal, might I have time to consider playing your fiancée?”

While I appreciated his generous offer, I needed to consider whether it would be the best decision. As someone who had always been under another’s thumb, I couldn’t help but feel wary.

“Absolutely,” the warden replied. “I understand that this matter requires time to consider. Just know that if we’re to travel to court together, we have little more than a week until we must leave. In that time, you will be tutored nearly every minute of the day on court etiquette.”

My chest tightened. A week was so short and if I were to put on a convincing show, I had much to learn. That put a new level of urgency to the deal, but instead of showing my rising anxiety, I inclined my head. “I understand.”

He nodded to my plate, and a lock of red hair covered his eyes before he swept it away with a grace that poured effortlessly out of him. “Your meal is getting cold. Why don’t you finish up while I go speak with the healer?” He pushed his chair back and stood. “Will you be alright alone?”

“I will. Thank you.” I leaned into my chair, the heat from the fire seeping into my back.

“Enjoy, Neve. I’ll return soon.” The Warden of the West gave a small bow and left me alone with my meal and a thousand questions spinning in my mind.

Chapter 8

Belly full, I trailed a half step behind Warden Roar toward the healer’s quarters. My wings tingled with anticipation. I couldn’t recall life without the metal rods in my wings. What would it feel like once they were out? In time, would I be able to fly normally? Just the idea sent a jolt of excitement through me.

“Here we are.” The warden stopped before a wooden door and opened it. “Healer Althea?”

“I’m here, my lord,” a deep female voice called out. “Is she ready?”

“She is,” the high lord replied as we walked into the room.

The healer’s quarters were larger than I’d imagined. Twenty beds lined the long room and shelves that held vials and bottles filled with either potions or dried ingredients loomed at the far ends of the space. From the ceiling, groups of plants hung too, infusing the room with a floral scent that almost covered up a more astringent stench.

“Morning, miss.” A fae at least two heads taller than the towering warden, appeared through a doorway. A bottle of liquid bubbled away in her hands.

My heart rate spiked and I took a step back, eyes widening as I studied the fae. She was, simply, the largest being I’d ever seen and with her fangs and bulging muscles, somewhat terrifying, too.

“I take it you’ve never seen someone with troll blood?” The healer had no judgment in her tone.

“No. I’m sorry. You’re very tall.” I paused. “You’re a troll and a healer?”

The moment I said it, I realized how rude I sounded, but I found it hard to believe. According to the stories, trolls were dim creatures. They survived by brute strength, their skin being impervious to most magic, and they stayed in loyal and protective family groups.

The healer burst out laughing. “I’m actually half troll and half faerie, else I wouldn’t be out in the daylight, now would I?”

I nodded, belatedly recalling that fact about trolls. The sun turned them to stone, and they had to wait until night came to turn back.

“And for my troll half, I’m very small.” She smiled warmly at me. “They’d consider twelve heads tall a true runt. Most of my family on that side is at least fifteen heads tall. Some up to twenty-two!” The healer set down the bottle she’d been holding. “As for the matter of trolls rarely possessing the intelligence to be a healer.” She arched an eyebrow as if daring me to deny that was what I’d thought.