Page 62 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen (Curse of the Fae #4)
Frozen Kingdom
SETH
T undra is unrecognizable. Devi and I step out of the sceawere hand in hand, but this is no place for a honeymoon. The guardhouse, the castle gates—even the sky—are blurred by a raging snowstorm.
“By Eros, what happened here?” Devi says, her lips tight. The beautiful, otherworldly glow of her skin and the crown on her head vanish.
We exchange a heavy glance.
I motion to the castle up the hill with my chin. “Let’s find out.”
Something bad happened here.
Bad enough to reverse the change in season.
Faerie weather is usually consistent. Spring had been spreading to Wintermere, melting ice and coaxing blooms unseen in decades. But ice has taken it all back in the days since we left.
The low temperature numbs my fingers and prickles my ears. My breath puffs in white clouds in front of my face, each inhale burning cold in my chest. I taper down the storm, failing to shut it off entirely, but the heavy snow dwindles enough for us to fly to the parapet.
I let myself turn into a cloud, the change blocking the cold.
Up on the hill, the Lake of Souls is hidden behind the thick veil of snow.
We pass over the maze on our way to the inner gardens.
Every dead plant is encased in ice, dusted with snow.
The flowers are frozen mid-bloom, petals and leaves still vibrant in color, as if the change happened in an instant.
The three towers looming above the garden are sheathed in thick ice, their spires glistening like the tip of a sharp, lethal blade. The entire castle appears to be entombed, checkered windows and ancient stones sealed under a heavy, gleaming crust. Everything is still. Silent. Frozen.
Devi flies beside me, her bottom lip tucked inside her mouth. I can’t hold hands with her in this form, but I feel her so clearly. Even with the storm clawing at her, snow tangled in her hair, and ice dusting her lashes, she’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen.
Without the crown, she looks a little more like the woman I met in Inverness. I want to steal her away, lock us in somewhere warm, where we could spend days—weeks—just the two of us. A real honeymoon. But the realm doesn’t wait. At least I know we’ll face this new crisis together.
We land inside the courtyard, snow crunching under our boots. The Hawthorn fared much the same as the gardens, its handful of blue apples encased in ice, their peels already turning brown.
Sara comes running out of Elio’s study, her short blond hair pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Her eyes are puffy and red.
“Where’s Elio?” Devi croaks, striding over to meet her. “What happened?”
Tears shine in Sara’s blue eyes. “Elio left for the Solar Cliffs. I couldn’t stop him.” She hesitates, her throat bobbing. “Lori’s gone,” she finally says. “Ethan… He took her.”
To be continued.