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And beating Vale hadn’t hurt either. My lips curled into a self-satisfied smile.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Vale asked, his tone light, teasing. “You look far too pleased with yourself.”

“Can you blame me? It’s not every day you best the Warrior Bear at swords.” Through the slits in my cloak, I fluttered my wings playfully.

He scoffed and shook his head. “We’ll see if you can do it again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You’ll train daily. Early in the morning too,” Vale replied in that commanding tone that made my stomach flutter. “That way, we’ll be less of a spectacle. In the early hours, the castle training facilities are usually empty.”

I groaned but didn’t argue. There was wisdom in his decision. The days and nights were sure to be filled with Courting Festival events and when danger came, I had to be ready. Though I was sure Vale would give his all to protect me, I needed to do so myself too.

“No more sparring at Luccan’s home?” I asked.

“No,” Vale murmured. “We were already outside Frostveil walls today, but it would look too odd, us leaving at the crack of dawn each morning. Plus, who knows what my father has in store for the festival? Best to use the castle facilities.”

I wished we could spend more time outside the castle but understood his reasoning.

Down the snow-lined street, a square opened before us, stalls up and open for business. From them, fae hawked wares, food, and services.

“What’s this?” I had lived in Sangrael and walked the streets of Guldtown but I’d never seen a place quite like this.

“A roving market. They sell in all areas of the city. The best hand pies in the city are from that stall over there—Ragnor’s.” He pointed to a very elaborate stall with three dwarves working away inside. The line was so long it wended through tables closer to the center of the square. One faerie left with her order, a hand pie, hereyes wide with glee. She came our way and passed by us without so much looking at the prince strolling the streets.

And when I smelled the pie, I understood why. It smelled so good that my stomach released a loud growl.

Vale’s eyebrows popped up. “Sounds like you have a white bear in your belly. You’re hungry, I take it?”

“Very,” I said. “But I can wait until we get to the castle.”

Vale shook his head. “It’s been far too long since I visited Ragnor’s. Let’s go there.”

Not about to argue, we approached the stall and got in line. We stood there for no more than ten seconds when the oldest dwarf with a long, blond beard bound with leather ribbons in intervals to keep it out of the food, spied Vale.

The dwarf waved. “My prince! Please, there’s no wait for you. Come up here!”

“We’re in no hurry and fine back here, Ragnor.” Vale waved back.

“You might be fine.” A sly grin spread across Ragnor’s bearded face. “But I’m not so concerned about you, my prince. Your new princess, however, I’m quite interested in. Bring her up here!”

Over the course of their exchange, those in line had turned to stare at us, most looking pointedly at me. The young fae right in front of us waved us forward. She was a tall dryad with bark-like skin and four arms that resembled branches more than arms. During my time in Winter’s Realm, I’d seen few dryads and wondered if having fourarms was common, or if this was yet another result of the blight hitting this land hard.

“My prince, you saved my sister’s village. Please, go ahead.”

Vale allowed the dryad to usher him forward, but it didn’t stop there. Fae of all races gave up their place in line. All of them had a reason to thank Vale—most having to do with fighting orcs and ogres around smaller villages in towns where their loved ones lived.

When we reached the front of the line, Ragnor smirked. “Why even fight it, Prince Vale? A brief wait for a sumptuous pie over the sword that protects us all? Even the lowest born of Avaldenn knows how to be proper.”

The prince smiled. “Of course they do. I would never assume otherwise.”

“What can I get you two?” Ragnor pinned his steely gray gaze on me. “You have not been here, my lady. Perhaps I can tempt you with my bestseller.” He grabbed a pie from the top of a pile and tore it open.

A savory scent filled my nostrils and drew saliva into my mouth. Meat, onions, and even small green peas filled the pie wrapped in a flaky golden crust.

“I’d love to try that,” I said, not even caring what kind of meat was inside the pie. “Thank you.”

Ragnor beamed as he handed me a fresh one and took Vale’s order. The prince was partial to pheasant. Vale also purchased pies for our guard and when we’d attempted to pay—which Ragnor declined with great gusto—we left to take a seat at one of the many tables in the square. TheClawsguard sat at one of the tables next to us and wasted no time digging into their pies.