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“Are you ready, my lord? My lady?”

“We are.” Roar’s dark green, confident eyes locked on me.

The door opened and sunlight streamed into the sleigh, along with a strong gale that smelled faintly of salt and fish. Had I been more sensitive to cold, I’d wish for a cloak, but I wasn’t. So much nervous energy flooded through me that I felt hot.

I pushed down my silver wings so they were less noticeable. Taking a deep breath, I slipped through the sleigh door, took the servant’s hand, descended a step, and finally stopped.

Huddled against the wind, fae watched from all corners of the castle yard, but as my gaze swept the area in the regal fashion Roar had taught me, I took care not to linger too long on any of them. I studied them and moved on and on and on.

At least, I did so until I landed on one fae in particular. He was tall, taller even than Roar with long, black hair he wore pulled back to reveal that the undercut of his long locks was actually shaved. His face was tanned, hinting that he spent time outside, and he wore a jacket and tunic opened just enough at the chest so that tendrils of tattoos peeked out and waved up to graze his thick neck. His midnight black wings only made him look striking, as did the way he studied me, almost like a predator. My heart skipped a beat at his intensity.

And it wasn’t just me who seemed affected. Others watched him too, while the male just stood there, as if he owned the entire castle yard.

Stars, he was the most handsome faerie I’d ever seen.

I swallowed, and remembering what appearances I needed to project, I rearranged my features into that of a noble lady who was not so easily impressed. As I did so, the male moved my way. Only then did I even notice the younger faerie of perhaps sixteen turns with dark brown skin and luminous gold eyes trailing the intimidating male. He carried a sword as though worried he might break it.

“My lady, I’m afraid we have not met.” The male approached the sleigh quickly, as if on a mission. When he got close enough for me to see his warm brown eyes, he held out a hand and a smile broke over his face, transforming those hard lines into something warmer, someone I could see laughing rather than hunting orcs with their bare hands. “I’m Prince Vale of House Aaberg.”

Chapter 21

I stiffened. So this was Prince Vale Aaberg, second in line for the crown and the warrior who had left Roar’s forces to fend for themselves when they’d requested help. The prince who famously feuded with Roar. At least that explained why he’d looked so hardened and entitled before.

Now, however, watching me, he had softened, and the effect was . . . slightly devastating. I found myself unable to move, to do anything but stare at the Warrior Bear. In that moment, he looked warm, not barbaric or like a scheming sort.

Stupid. You don’t know him at all, I chided myself just as Roar appeared behind me and his strong hand landed on my shoulder.

“Come to woo my lady, have you, Prince Vale?” Roar asked as his hand slipped downward to grasp my own and he began to assist me down the steps. It took more effort than it ought to have to move, but my feet found the snowy ground, and Roar followed and stood right next to me, straight-backed and proud.

“Not at all.” The prince replied, his tone tightening. That easy smile he’d given me was gone, replaced by one that looked almost painful. “Simply introducing myself.” He cast me a glance.

“I’m Neve,” I said, remembering that he had, in fact, introduced himself and the polite, courtly thing would be to reciprocate—even if I did already hate his beautiful face because of what he’d done to Roar, to so many soldiers.

He waited.

“No great or lesser house,” I added. “I’m from a village so small I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”

“A pleasure to have you in Avaldenn, my lady. You as well, Warden Lisika.” The prince nodded.

I gave a small nod, deferring to Roar but instead of replying to the prince he waved a servant over and directed him. “Take our trunks to our rooms. We are engaged and thus require chambers that are side-by-side.”

At that, the prince’s lips parted in surprise. Would he go straight to his father and tell the king the news—that the lord of the wealthiest territory had gotten engaged?

Roar cleared his throat. “I must get my lady inside, Prince Vale. We’ve had a long journey, and it is as cold as a mage’s touch out here.”

“Of course.” The prince stepped aside to allow us by.

Following a half step after Roar, I swept through the palace yard for the front doors. Behind us, keeping her distance, Clemencia walked with my basket of fabric and the warden’s blood vial, tucked neatly at the bottom of the basket. Silently, I thanked her for gathering that which was most important to me. She always anticipated my needs.

“You did well.” Roar gazed at me. “A bit cold, but that doesn’t worry me. In fact, I’m pleased.” He smirked.

Cold? I had felt more shocked by the prince welcoming us rather than a castle attendant. That and the sheer . . . overwhelming masculinity of the prince. How annoying it was that someone so handsome could be so cruel. Still, Roar didn’t seem to mind the idea of me being cold to the prince, so I wasn’t going to dwell on it.

“Keep your head up,” Roar continued. “We’ll talk more privately in our rooms.”

I swallowed. For whatever reason, I had not considered that we’d be staying so close to one another. I had never been a prude, but Roar seemed to be a different sort of male from those I was used to being around.

Our relationship was fake, yes, but he flirted and I got the sense he wouldn’t mind being in a real relationship. Sometimes, despite my aim to put distance between me and the Blood Court, I wasn’t so sure if, given enough time, I’d say no either. We were friends, and he was a handsome, kind fae. Could there be more between us?