Page 56

Chapter 53

IRIS

“I would like to take you on a date.”

I nearly spat out my tea, choking slightly as my eyes widened at words I never thought I’d hear from Aspen’s mouth.

It wasn’t the idea itself that shocked me—it was the sheer normalcy of it.

We’d already found reasons to spend nearly every day together. If the past week was anything to go by, I practically lived with him. Given everything that had happened, a date felt almost absurdly conventional. Though, some part of me had to physically restrain a positively mortifying squeal of excitement at the thought.

Aspen narrowed his eyes as he took another sip of his second cup of hot chocolate. “Careful, Virlana. These are brand new sheets.”

Aspen was one of those miserable people who liked to wake up before the goddess-blasted sun, and my penchant for staying in bed as long as possible meant he usually finished an entire mug of his precious hot chocolate before sharing his second morning drink with me.

What possessed someone to wake up so early, I had no idea.

I cleared my throat, a grin beginning to spread. “An odd order of events, don’t you think?”

He raised a brow, gaze flicking past me to the window beyond.

“You know,” I continued, unable to mask my amusement, “sleeping on the floor of a tent together, naked rendezvous in hot springs, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets,” I wiggled my fingers toward him, “a few rather near-death experiences, betrothals galore, a damn skylight in your home, living together, and then a date.”

“You could just say no instead of teasing me, you know?” he pouted.

“You blithering idiot.”

His attention snapped back to me, breath caught on an inhale.

“Of course I want to go on a date with you.”

Every muscle loosened, his face softening as he moved closer to where I sat on the bed. Such a grumpy, infuriating, enigmatic man.

I reached up to brush away the piece of hair that had fallen into his eyes. “When are you going to stop expecting the tragedy with me?”

“You nearly spilled an entire cup of tea at the mere mention of a date, Virlana. Forgive me for taking that as a bad sign.”

I brought my mug to my lips again, attempting to hide my amusement. “It just seemed rather conventional, given all we’ve been through.”

“We are anything but conventional, I suppose.” The corner of his mouth twitched up, mirroring my own. “But if you’ll allow it, I’d like to court you as any other suitor would.”

I pressed my lips together, stifling another laugh at the sudden seriousness in his tone. “Is that so?”

“I’ll have you know that I am a very eligible bachelor, Virlana?—”

I took another sip of tea. “Mm.”

“And I am quite well-versed in the art of courtship?—”

Another sip. “I’m sure.”

“And I’ll have you know that I was once described as ‘swoon-worthy’—”

This time, I did spit out my drink.

“Did the Frost Prince of Kacidon just refer to himself as swoon-worthy ?”

“I was merely relaying the message,” he grumbled into his mug.

I threw my head back, tears brimming as laughter overtook me.

“Divine above, you’re going to take years off my life, Iris Virlana,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

I caught my breath, wiping my eyes. “You’re immortal. You’ll manage.”

Setting my mug on my lap, I slid my free hand across the bed to cover his.

“You don’t need to put on an elaborate production for my sake. I don’t want some prince playing by all the rules. I quite prefer just Aspen.” I squeezed his hand for emphasis, offering him a wink. “Besides, traditional courtship is rather boring, don’t you think?”

He flipped his palm up, intertwining our fingers as his thumb traced over mine.

“I’d still like to take you on a date. You deserve that.”

My heart warmed at his words, the magic in my blood humming with the simmering beginnings of a match ignited.

“I’d like nothing more.”

And then came that smile—the one that reached his eyes, the one that made me think I could drink it in for the rest of my days and it still wouldn’t be enough. That smile seeped through my chest like the most decadent honey, clinging to my heart and sinking into my soul.

Aspen swung his legs off the bed, holding out a hand for my empty mug. “Good. I’ve already informed the healers not to expect you in.”

“Not today,” I scrambled beneath the sheets. “Everrett is still unconscious and?—”

“And they’re taking care of him.” Aspen placed a hand on my knee, dragging it up until his hand splayed across my ribs. “He’d be livid if he knew you sat there any free chance you had, instead of living .”

He leaned down, brushing a kiss over the top of my hair.

“But the tonic?—”

“Has a base that won’t be ready for you to tinker with until nightfall,” He tucked an errant curl behind my ear before grabbing his pack from the armoire. “Which means you get to torture me with date proclivities for an entire day before you can slave over that cauldron again.”

“Oh?” I raised a brow.

“I have some errands to run. Is midday enough time for you?”

“Are you going to inform me what this date entails?”

He turned back in the doorway, mirth dancing in his gaze. Light flooded back into my chest at the sight.

“Where would the fun be in that?”

I flopped back onto the bed dramatically, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead in mock distress.

“Oh, the woes of courtship with a brazenly obtuse male—never thinking of the absolute distress his date must endure when she simply cannot fathom what to wear. It is perilous, Prince. Absolutely inauspicious.”

“A mission set forth with near-impossible efficaciousness.”

A low chuckle rumbled from the other end of the bed, and I cracked an eye open to see Aspen leaning over me, using his most princely tone.

“How ever will you survive?”

“I shall suffer for the cause,” I drawled, sighing forlornly. “A noble way to go out, if it is fated to transpire. Tell my parents I loved them.”

Aspen’s eyes sparkled with barely contained amusement, as he let out a sigh of even greater length than mine, shaking his head with fervor.

“How tragic our stories are, to have to endure such cruel machinations.”

I bit my lip, attempting my best caricature of lamentable torment.

“It really is frightful, the perilousness of it all.”

The moment I met Aspen’s gaze—stretched thin in a valiant attempt at maintaining a neutral expression—we both lost it.

I rolled to the side, gasping for breath as laughter burst from me, hiccups punctuating the sound. Aspen threw his head back, his chest shaking as his own laughter roared through the room.

“I’d tell you not to be nosy while I’m gone,” Aspen mused as he caught his breath, “but I’m inclined to think that would be a waste of my precious breath.”

He placed one hand on the bed, leaning down until our eyes were level.

“And I imagine I must save some, if only to revel in the woes of courtship with you later, Virlana.”

He tilted his face down, hands sinking into the mattress on either side of my ribs. His lips hovered a hair’s breadth from mine—then, at the last moment, he turned his head and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek.

I had been moving forward to meet him, and the sudden shift sent me toppling forward onto the sheets.

Aspen bit back a grin, a small chuckle escaping his lips as I stared open-mouthed at him. Straightening to his full height, he crossed one arm over his chest and executed an overly dramatic bow, the picture of noble propriety.

I huffed, flopping onto my back again. “Always a tease.”

“My heart shall long while I am away,” he called over his shoulder, throwing in a dramatic flourish of his hand. “Until our most momentous escapade, my fair lady!”

I lay on the edge of Aspen’s bed, staring up at the rays of sunlight bouncing off the glass panels.

A stupid grin had plastered itself onto my face, utterly unbecoming of my ruse to keep my wild hope contained.

A skylight.

I wondered if he understood, truly, what he had given me.

A direct escape route from my own mind—one I could use without ever having to leave his arms.

The gift of understanding, of openness.

A window to keep my eyes on the sky.

Above all else, relentless freedom from the suffocation of walls.

And he had done it for me.

I pushed off the bed, shaking the thoughts from my head before I could dwell on any deeper meaning. I couldn’t allow my mind to wander off to wherever my heart had been drifting lately.

Grabbing the blanket from the edge of Aspen’s bed, I wrapped it tightly around myself and sauntered through his room, eager to glimpse his everyday life through the space he called home. In the week since he had brought me here, I’d done little more than collapse into bed at the end of each night, dead on my feet from the long days in the castle.

At least he knew that assuming I wouldn’t be nosy was futile.

Smart man.

My fingers trailed over the notched wood of his nightstand, tracing the swirling patterns carved into its surface. My hand brushed over the sketchpad he kept there, the leather supple and aged beneath my fingertips.

I would be nosy—pry, even—in many things. But not there. Not until he was ready.

Still, it took every ounce of restraint I possessed not to open the drawer and uncover the inexplicable secrets the Prince of the Kacidon kept in his bedside table. Pulling the blanket tighter, I forced my hands to occupy themselves with something less intrusive and wandered to his bookshelf.

Most of the tomes across the top shelves chronicled the beginnings of Altaerra and the continent’s history, alongside accounts of relics and art. A collection worthy of the Kacidonian Records Keeper. I let my fingers dance across the spines, their worn and frayed edges nestled snugly together in an impressively meticulous order.

The books were categorized by genre, then alphabetized by author, and then again within each author's works. Multi-volume series were neatly grouped together, always in the correct order. My gaze traveled downward, where the lower shelves contained fictional stories—perhaps even more well-loved, yet somehow less tattered. As if their reader had handled them with delicate reverence, turning each page carefully through countless rereads.

Aspen often peeked over my shoulder while I read during our treasured rest days, occasionally asking me to read a passage aloud to him.

The thought of a younger Aspen, not yet grown into the lankiness of his limbs, curled in a corner and utterly lost in a fantastical tale, warmed something deep inside me.

How much of himself he would let me uncover? Would he allow me to shine a light on the hidden corners of his soul? Let me adore those pieces too? I longed to know what his favorite secrets were.

At the bottom corner of the bookcase, my gaze caught on several familiar spines. Unlike the others, these looked nearly untouched. I crouched, eyes widening at the gold embossing that reflected in the morning sun.

Six books.

Six pristine, identical copies of the novels I had borrowed from the Kacidon library, tucked away and waiting to be savored over and over again.

That swimming sensation returned—the waves filling my head, pulling me down, down, down.

It would ruin me.

After a long, drawn-out bath, I stood in front of our wardrobe, deciding what to wear with limited information. Near the back, my fingers found one of the dresses I had acquired at the market with Aspen during a trip for supplies.

The bodice was soft blue-grey velvet, its heart-shaped neckline accentuated with silver beading that fit snugly along the outside of my shoulders. The long sleeves flared at the wrists, woven with the same delicate detailing as the collar. A silver brocade belt wrapped loosely around my waist, cinching where the fabric flared at the hips.

A light silver cape accompanied the dress, its hood and sleeves lined with fur. I was grateful that, although the Kacidon heavily favored furs for both warmth and style, Aspen had ensured mine were imitation.

I let the blanket slip to the floor and stepped into the gown, the soft fabric whispering over my skin as I fastened the buttons down my back. Turning toward the mirror on the wardrobe, I studied my reflection.

In the bathing chamber, I sifted through my satchel, finding a few stray hairpins at the bottom. I needed to leave most of my hair free—especially without knowing how many people I might encounter. Twisting a small section back from the left side of my face, I secured it with a silver-jeweled clip.

A light sweep of kohl lined my eyes, deepening my lashes. A pinch of gold dusting brushed over my cheekbones, and a berry-hued rouge stained my lips.

I must have been too distracted with getting ready to hear the door open, because when I left the bedroom, he was already inside, standing by the counter, entranced in a report.

I stole a moment to drink him in, studying him without restraint.

He had changed since this morning. Now he wore a charcoal tunic, its fit tailored to perfection over black trousers. Several of his usual black rings adorned his fingers, alongside his silver signet. Every strand of white hair was in place—longer than usual, curling at the ends now past his ears.

I adored it.

Aspen looked up, his eyes widening briefly before the corner of his lips twitched upward.

“Give a man a warning next time, Virlana.”

I chuckled. “You should be more aware of your surroundings. Is Kacidon in such poor form that its prince is spooked by someone who lives in his house?”

He stalked toward me, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “I wasn’t startled by your arrival. You simply seemed to steal the air from the room.”

Heat crept up my cheeks. I still marveled at how open he allowed himself to be when it was just the two of us—how unrestrained and fervent he could become in my presence.

“You are ravishing.”

He reached out, threading his fingers through mine as we stepped outside. Snow had begun to drift down, the first delicate steps of a silent dance.

A gleaming white sleigh awaited us, harnessed to a massive brown reindeer. I hurried toward the animal, dragging Aspen behind me as I scratched behind its ear and murmured a quiet “thank you” before climbing into the sleigh.