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Epilogue – Farron

T he halls of Castletree are alive with merriment.

There is much to celebrate. I peer through the crowd of nobles in the ballroom to look at the four thrones.

Sabine stands beside Damocles, who sits on the Seat of Summer.

She holds the new Princess Delphia. This celebration of the Rainbow Eclipse Festival at Castletree is Sabine’s first official outing since Delphia’s birth.

And like he promised, Dayton is here. Not that he’s said a word to me since I arrived. Presently, I can see he’s well into his cups and chatting to a gaggle of young Winter nobles.

Castletree’s ballroom is done up in grand splendor, as always, a symphony of nature and magic. Soaring arches and pillars carved from the living tree reach toward the open windows and starry sky. Vines and delicate blooms twine around the columns, their petals glowing with light.

In the center of the room, the guests twirl in dance, their laughter and music ringing out, bringing to life the magic I always feel in Castletree.

I turn my attention back to the dais with the four thrones. My gaze slides from Day’s family to the Spring throne, the huge chair backed in blooming pink flowers and green vines. The newly crowned High Prince Ezryn sits stiffly upon it, metal fists clenched.

My stomach flips. The Spring Realm is so secretive I’ve only heard rumors, but word is his mother, the former High Princess, died passing on her Blessing. It’s a rare occurrence, but it has happened before.

Further, rumor has it that the family experienced another loss: Kairyn has been banished to serve Queen’s Reach Monastery atop Mount Lumidor, where acolytes dedicate their lives to worshipping the memory of our lost queen

I resist the urge to slink off to Castletree’s library to research it more. It’s smaller than the Great Scriptorium of Alder, but I’ve always found it a comforting escape when I’ve stayed here with Mother. There’s something cozy and warm about it, and the Autumn Wing always feels like home.

Worry clouds my heart as my gaze shifts to my mother. She locked herself in her room for days after word came of Isidora’s passing. On the third day, she emerged, stone-faced, appearing to have aged a decade in that time. She didn’t speak to any of us about it, but I see the grief in her eyes.

“Everything alright?” a deep voice says behind me. I stiffen as a hand clasps my shoulder.

I spin to find the tall Winter heir.

“Oh, hi, Kel—uh, Keldarion,” I peep, then swallow with a dry throat. “I was thinking about Ezryn. It must be hard for him.”

Keldarion gives a long sigh. He wears a cloak of shimmering satin lined with white fur.

His doublet is sapphire with glittering thread.

Atop his head is a silver circlet with a single blue gem at the center.

His light eyes narrow as he looks up to the dais.

I know he and Ezryn have been close since childhood, so losing Spring’s High Princess must have hurt him as well.

“It is,” Keldarion says. “He’s been staying with my parents and me for a time now. He does not like to speak of his feelings, though. I often wonder what’s going on inside his head.”

Gingerly, I place my hand atop Keldarion’s, which is still on my shoulder. “Everyone deals with grief in their own way. I’m sure knowing you’re there for him is a comfort.”

Keldarion gives a low laugh, then ruffles my hair. “Such wisdom, little prince. Did you read that in one of your books?”

“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” I swallow. “But there is happiness here too. The birth of Delphia. And if it’s not too bold, are the rumors true you intend to propose to Lady Tilla this night?”

The Winter Prince stiffens, and I worry I’ve said too much. But then he gives a gruff sigh. “I believe those rumors were spread by my mother herself, and since I’ll do anything for her, then…”

All at once, I feel a kinship toward Keldarion, despite us being worlds apart.

Perhaps he too is not ready for the throne, and this marriage is another step toward it.

My gaze settles on his mother, Princess Runa.

Her dress looks crafted from the finest sapphire velvet, and a shimmering crystal necklace adorns her throat.

She’s beside Keldarion’s father, Erivor, the High Prince of Winter, who sits upon the Seat of Winter like he owns all of Castletree.

“Just the two royals we were looking for,” a low, deep voice slurs. A voice that travels to my very core.

Dayton stands before us, arm slung around Kel’s intended, Tilla. Her cheeks are flushed, and she laughs at his words.

“I found this maiden all alone on the dance floor,” Dayton continues. “Pray, where be her handsome prince?”

Tilla tsks , her long black hair falling from her tight-knit bun. I wonder how much wine these two indulged in before they located us.

“I’ve been looking for you forever, Kel.” Tilla narrows her eyes. “You aren’t avoiding me, are you?”

Kel paints a perfect smile on his face and grabs her arm. “Of course not, dear. I was catching up with Prince Farron. You’ve met him before.”

Tilla blinks her big eyes at me. “Oh, yes. Dayton has been talk?—”

“You should give your date a dance, Kel,” Dayton interrupts, boldly slapping Keldarion on the arm.

“I do not partake in dancing,” Keldarion says. “Besides, I think what she requires most is water and rest.”

Keldarion leads Tilla toward her lady’s maids.

And that leaves me alone with Day. The last thing I wanted to happen today.

“Fare,” he says lowly.

Why does his voice have to sound that way? Why does it make my whole body tremble? One look in his blue eyes, and I’m a ship lost at sea.

“I have to go.” I step away.

“Can we talk?” He grabs my arm. “Somewhere alone?”

“That’s the only place you like me, isn’t it? In the shadows.”

A muscle feathers in his jaw, and I know he’s suppressing a retort.

I sigh, so weak where he’s concerned. “Follow me.”

We leave Castletree’s grand throne room, and I lead him to my favorite place. When we enter the library, the air changes. It’s crisper, tinged with the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the rich aroma of old books.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been here,” Dayton says.

The library unfurls before us like a dream.

Shelves stretch up toward the vaulted ceiling, crafted from amber wood.

Books, scrolls, and artifacts fill the shelves.

Living vines intertwine with the shelves, their tendrils winding around leather-bound tomes.

Moonlight filters through stained glass windows.

Cozy fireplaces are scattered throughout, casting a golden light with their flames. I can’t hear the festivities in the throne room anymore, just the crackling logs. Above us, autumn leaves fall. Their colors are vibrant—deep reds, burned oranges, and golden yellows.

Dayton picks up a leaf between his thumb and forefinger. “It suits you.”

“What does?”

“Castletree. This library. You’re meant to be High Prince.”

Castletree could suit you too, I think, but keep the thought to myself, inhaling a deep breath. The air carries the perfume of aged parchment, polished wood, and the faint spice of cinnamon and cloves, emanating from the perpetually brewing mulled cider in a corner.

I lead him to a comfy couch in front of the fire in a secluded alcove. Dayton falls to the cushions, his tension seeming to ease now that he’s away from the celebration. He thrives on people, large conversations, and crowds, but he needs this too.

“You wanted to talk,” I say, breaking the silence, “so talk.”

He opens his mouth, closes it.

“What?” I sneer. “Is the great gladiator for once at a loss for words?”

“I miss you.”

My heart melts, because that’s been my only thought since I left Soltide last summer. But I keep my expression neutral, unable to look at him as I say, “You didn’t have to miss me.”

If you’d come to Coppershire.

“See, that wouldn’t have worked either, Fare,” Dayton says. “That would be all politics. It wouldn’t be like the summer. Fun. Damn, I miss the fun we had together.”

I observe him from beneath my lashes. There it is, the thing he can’t get past. My title. My future.

“I can’t have fun forever. My mother is eager to pass on the Blessing and?—”

Dayton stands, and he’s in front of me, not touching, but close enough I’m enveloped in the scent of salt and sea and sunshine. “Not at this very moment. You could have fun now.”

I take a step away from him. “My mother expects me to find an acceptable consort. That doesn’t bother you?”

He shrugs and closes the distance I just created. “You don’t have one now. I could show you lots of ways to have fun. We could go to taverns together. Share a woman. Attend parties with the sole purpose of fucking from dusk to dawn. The possibilities are endless.”

I don’t want any possibilities but him. Though he’s probably already lost himself in countless lovely bodies from the Summer Realm since I last saw him.

I don’t step away again, mind reeling. He still wants me.

Well, wants me some of the time. Will that be enough?

Is having only a small piece of the Summer Prince better than nothing at all?

Slowly, I rest my fingers over the shell necklace I made him. He’s still wearing it. His breath hitches beneath my touch.

“If,” I say, “I want you, then you must come. You drop everyone else and come to me. Could you do that?”

“I could do that,” he says, voice sparking with the first bit of life all evening. “If…”

“If?”

“If you say you want me right now.”

I pause, taking him in. Tall, golden hair, tan skin, a little broken around the edges, like a priceless chipped relic. And I know this plan is foolish, because I don’t want a little of him. I want him all. “I want you.”

“Fare.” He grips my face and pulls me into a searing kiss.

The wave that’s been drowning me the last few months recedes, and I let out a loud moan into his mouth.

Day moves away and chuckles. “Knew you still wanted me.”