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Chapter 35

IRIS

“Goddess above, Virlana. You should come with a warning,” Aspen grumbled, massaging his bicep. “‘Steals blanket with such force it almost rips, will punch you while asleep — feels no remorse .’”

I yanked our shared bedding back. “If you stopped hogging the blanket, I wouldn’t have to steal it back. And I’m sure you did something during the night to deserve it—I just need a moment to figure out what.”

Mochi popped his head up from where he was curled at our feet, nodding in agreement. I threw a wink at the fox. “Thanks for the backup, little one.”

He nuzzled the side of my leg in response. He always deserves it .

Agreed , I responded.

I’m on your side, Blossom. I grinned at nickname Mochi had bestowed during our evening chat by the fire, much to Aspen’s irritation. I’d struggled to contain my composure at his indignation when he realized the two of us were having entire conversations without—and often about—him.

“You’re traitorous, you know that?” Aspen murmured to Mochi, rolling over and pushing to stand. “You’ve known me your entire life, and still, you favor her.”

I scooped the fox into my arms. “He simply has good taste in friends.”

Mochi nodded solemnly. Aspen scrubbed his hands over his face, yawning as he stood. “There’s a hot spring nearby where we can wash off.” He gestured to the front of the tent. “I’ll show you.”

As he pulled his bag over his shoulder, a small piece of parchment fluttered to the ground. I reached for it, but before I could grab it, Aspen snatched it up and stuffed it into his pack.

“Can I see it?” I asked, meeting him at the entryway with my own satchel.

His eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing to see.”

“I saw you,” I said, crossing my arms. “The other night—sketching.”

A flicker of alarm crossed his face. “Oh,” he replied stiffly. “I couldn’t sleep. Needed something to fill the time.”

“So,” I continued, holding out my palm, “will you at least tell me what you drew?”

Aspen let out an exasperated sigh as he turned to open the tent flap. “Not likely.”

I glanced between his outstretched arm and his face, still rooted to the spot. “You stood and watched while I danced yesterday, and you won’t even give me a hint of what you were sketching?”

Aspen huffed a quiet laugh. “Who’s the busybody now?” He ducked under the tent flap and started toward the edge of the glade.

“Guess you should have had quicker reflexes when it fell,” he called over his shoulder.

I took a steadying breath before following him, knowing that if I didn’t, I’d never find my way there.

When we reached the hot spring, Aspen emptied his pack onto a nearby tree stump and pulled out a bar of soap, fragrant with notes of eucalyptus and lavender.

“Did you happen to bring another one of those?” I asked, breathing in the scent, which whisked me back to the apothecary, to home.

Aspen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t tell me you ventured in here without soap.”

“No, but the selection in my rooms was rather bland,” I said, holding up the bar. “Yours, on the other hand, is much more to my taste.”

“It’s my soap, Iris, and there’s only one—for me. You can’t just steal it.”

“Oh my Divine!” I gasped. “The Frost Prince won’t share his precious soap? Surely you have plenty to spare back at your luxurious palace.”

“No,” he replied, holding the light-green bar close to his chest. “It’s mine, Iris.”

“And if I bite back all my pride and say please?” I asked sardonically.

“Even if you say please.” He deadpanned, setting the soap down territorially on the stump beside him.

Aspen crouched and began untying his shoes. I gawked, wondering if he was about to strip down naked. Right here. In full view.

Leaning against a boulder, I folded my arms and fixed my gaze on anything that wasn’t him, as I heard the slow, deliberate unbuckling of his coat before it thudded to the ground.

“A body is a body, Iris,” he chuckled. “But I can move somewhere else if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t,” I said, eyes locked on the tree before me. “I had only presumed that someone wound as tightly as you would be more concerned with modesty. Although now that I think of it,” I continued, tapping my chin, “the rumor mill of Altaerra would argue otherwise.”

“Ah,” he sighed. “That is one rumor about me I think it would be safe to believe. I don’t feel shame in my body or how I choose to use it—as long as all involved are in agreement.” His voice dropped an octave. “And since you're so curious, I think you would find I’m a lot less uptight than you assume. In that regard, at least.”

Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I hoped that my racing heartbeat wasn’t loud enough for Aspen to catch.

Curiosity got the better of me, though. As I heard fabric slide against skin, I risked a glance.

He stood in only his trousers and an untucked shirt, back muscles shifting like rippling waves as he pulled his tunic over his head. The frost-tipped pines framed him, morning sun catching his skin like something Divine-made.

Breathtaking. Obscenely beautiful.

My gaze trailed over him, catching every dip and scar that flecked his arms, his torso, his back—some shallow enough to be from training, others deep enough to make me wonder what, exactly, had been sufficient to leave a lasting mark. Especially with his Medikai magic.

I already committed to memory those on his face—the thicker one on his chin, the crooked one over his nose, the jagged one by his left brow. The fresh line left by my own hand. My chest tightened at the thought of adding another scar to his collection, at the ache of wondering what he had endured.

White-hot anger threatened to surface. What had been done to him that left these marks?

“Getting your fill, Virlana?” he called, snapping me back to reality.

I scoffed, lifting a single, pointed finger from my perch against the boulder.

His brows shot up. “Is this what they teach in the Vaelithe now? Spying and lewd gestures?” he said, still half clothed as he stalked towards me—the edge of his lip curving up. “So dignified.”

“Both, actually,” I returned his smug grin, looking up at him through my lashes. “Along with how to properly assess an enemy’s threat level. Someone from my realm wouldn’t have been frightened of their own polar guard.”

“Careful now.” He braced his hands on the smooth stone at either side of my body. “Don’t start a fight you aren’t willing to finish.”

“Oh, sweet Prince,” I purred, leaning in, “I always finish my fights.”

I let my breath ghost against his ear. “And most of the time? I don’t even need to lift a finger.”

“Ah,” he said, his face close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheeks. “Your heartbeat betrays your conviction, doesn’t it?”

“It may,” I admitted, refusing to retreat from his advance. “But at least I didn’t willingly walk into bear droppings.”

I ducked out from under his arm and sprinted toward the forgotten soap, snatching it up before leaping into the water—clothes and all.

Aspen sighed heavily, hands gripping the smooth stone as he lifted his foot from the mess and turned to face me. “You cunning little thief.”

I shot him a wink before sinking enough to peel off my nightclothes, tossing them onto the snowy bank. “Figured you might help me out with that,” I said, nodding toward the sodden garments and grinning. “Time was of the essence—couldn’t stop for the frivolity of modest disrobing.”

He glanced down again, nose scrunching at the pile of bear droppings he’d inadvertently stepped through. With a slow shake of his head, he turned his attention to my dripping clothes. “I should really let you suffer for that.”

I threw my head back in laughter as he half-hopped toward the bank’s edge, clearly trying to avoid spreading the excrement further. He plunged his leg into the spring, then—once sufficiently cleansed—sent a sharp kick of water in my direction. I splashed him back, losing all composure at his look of sheer incredulity.

When I’d finished washing, I set the soap down in the snow and gave Aspen a pointed look. He stared blankly, obliviously. I tilted my head, twirling a finger in the air. With an exaggerated sigh, he turned around, lifting a hand toward my soaked clothing. A pocket of wind rippled through the clearing, drying them instantly.

I really should have brought something to change into, but the lure of warm water had been so enticing that I’d merely followed in earnest. I had no doubts he would’ve left me in the camp or to wander the woods if I’d hung back.

“Ready for me to turn around?” Aspen asked as I pulled on the underlayer of my nightclothes, the steam rising from the water keeping me warmer than expected. “Make sure you’ve got a good view, Virlana. Wouldn’t want you to miss the show.”

I grabbed the soap and lobbed it at him. It smacked against his bare back with a satisfying thud. Chuckling, he reached down to retrieve it, rubbing his shoulder as I walked away, avoiding his gaze and the smug grin I knew would be plastered on his face.

A quiet splash echoed behind me. A beat later, his clothing landed on a fresh bank of snow.

“If you look closely, Virlana,” he teased, swimming toward me with a comprehensive view, “you may bear witness to the most spectacular ass in Kacidon.”

“Oh? What a poor selection your realm must have, then,” I eyed that particular asset. Unabashedly.

His jaw dropped in mock insult. With a flick of his fingers, a gentle breeze ruffled through my hair, drying the strands.

I ran my fingers through them as I plopped down in the snow. “I thought you said you should let me suffer?” I said, grabbing three sections and weaving small braids into the damp locks.

“Oh, I will.” He tipped his head back into the water. “That can be achieved in ways that don’t involve frostbite.”

“You know, you aren’t nearly as frightening as you think, Prince.”

He arched a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Hells, after this morning, one could even argue you’re marginally enjoyable to be around. Who would’ve guessed?”

“Iris Virlana admitting she was wrong about something?” He placed a hand over his chest, feigning shock. “The realms must be collapsing.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. I merely think it speaks to my charming presence that you’ve become scarcely more pleasant.”

Aspen shook his head in disbelief before ducking beneath the water, scrubbing himself clean.

“You are far more so, Virlana.”

“Far more what?”

“Terrifying,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching before he dunked his head back, bringing it out of the water to shaking water in my direction.

I barely avoided the spray, inhaling the lingering scent of soap on my skin and hair—Aspen’s scent, I now realized.

Eucalyptus. Lavender. Juniper berries.

The scent had my thoughts drifting, lingering on fragments of home.

“What are you thinking about?” Aspen’s voice pulled me back.

“Strawberry tarts,” I answered, smiling.

His expression twisted in confusion. “You’re in the middle of a forest teeming with things that wouldn’t hesitate to kill you, and you’re thinking about strawberry tarts ?”

“This place also isn’t nearly as terrifying as you all made it out to be. The only real nuisance has been your pouting.”

“I do not pout ,” he scoffed, crossing his arms—precisely in the way I was referring to.

“You absolutely do.” I gestured to his posture. “You go all grumpy and silent and make a face like you’ve smelled something rancid.” I mimicked it.

His mouth fell open slightly. “I am certain I’ve never made that face in my life.”

“You have. It’s quite uncouth .”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face.

“And the constant sighing—Goddesses, you morose grump .”

Aspen stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head.

“For the record, I’m always thinking about strawberry tarts.”

“Enlighten me, then.” He swam closer. “What is it about strawberry tarts that takes up so much space in that massive brain of yours?”

“Have you ever had one?” I asked.

He thought for a moment. “Not that I recall.”

“They’re the most delicious thing in all of Felviran,” I sighed, lifting my chin. “I could live a blissful life on nothing but strawberry tarts.”

Aspen climbed from the pool and tugged his clothes back on as I continued.

“I used to beg my mother for them at least twice a day.” My chest loosened at the memory, accepting his offered hand as he pulled me up. “She puts some sort of magic in them, I swear. She told me once if I didn’t slow down, she was convinced I’d turn into one,” I laughed.

Aspen tilted his head to camp, handing me my satchel. “Strawberry tarts,” he mused. “Noted.”

* * *

“Are you still pouting because you stepped in bear droppings, or is it because I stole your precious soap?” I asked as we trudged through the snow, the sun peeking through the trees.

Mochi wove between us, nearly tripping Aspen, which only deepened his scowl.

“Maybe I’m pouting about my unpleasant company.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are such a grouch.”

“And you are a devious, clever fox.” He fell a few steps behind. “No wonder Mochi adores you.”

“It’s not my fault you underestimated a Virlana .”

“It won’t happen again,” he vowed. “That, I can assure you.”

A gust of wind fluttered through my hair, the strands twirling as they rose.

The footsteps behind me halted.

The air thickened.

Charged.

“What in the fucking Divine is that?”