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Laurel

There are many traditions and myths about the Winter Solstice. Each kingdom has their own practices, from resting for two weeks to exchanging gifts. One of the most beloved of Winter Solstice legends is that of fae mates, who are compelled to give their mate a Solstice gift that once belonged to them. Some trinket or object that holds significance or meaning, given to the fae’s mate for safekeeping. Many young lovers will practice the tradition on Winter Solstice, lost in the myth’s romanticism. But fae mates, if they ever existed, are now nothing more than fables told to spark joy on a holiday.

The Legends of the Fae, Volume III

In the early afternoon, I return to my room to prepare for dinner. After running a bath, I set my travel makeup and metal pins on my vanity. But I keep the necklace on as I dip into the steaming water. I run over every moment with Thorne, still so confused by him. One moment he’s flippantly flirting, treating me no differently than every other female he’s encountered in Thayaria. Then in the next moment, he’s looking at me with a deep longing that goes beyond simple attraction. His relationship with Silene is so baffling. He clearly cares deeply for her, but whether that’s as a friend, a lover, or something in between, I cannot sort out. He says they’re just friends, but with everything the rumors say about him, how could I possibly trust that? I stay in the bath until the water turns tepid, staring out at the barren landscape through the window, lost in thought.

Lunaria startles me out of my stupor, stalking into the room and staring at me as if to say, time to get moving. I get out of the tub, dressing myself in a simple silk gown that hugs my body, the color matching Thorne’s eyes. I keep the lightning necklace on, adding only a set of simple earrings and black elbow-length gloves to complete the look. My hair hangs long and wavy, front pieces pulled into a twist that keeps it out of my face, and my makeup is light and airy.

When I aerstep into the massive dining hall that’s rarely used, it too has been transformed by Silene. In addition to the overgrown vines that line the palace, there are lights everywhere. Glowing strings swoop down from the high ceiling, while gossamer navy fabric drapes under them. The effect is that when you look up, it’s like you’re looking up at the night sky. Twinkling lights also hang down the walls, interspersed with the creeping ivy.

A single long dining table runs down the length of the space, decorated with more lights and arrangements of cut flowers from the greenhouse. Bright yellows, pinks, reds, and blues are interspersed with dark green, giving the decor a look that is wholly at odds with how Thayarian affairs usually look. From the front of the room, smells of garlic, onion, meat, and freshly baked bread waft from a buffet table lined with covered dishes. The cooks are dressed up though, socializing and drinking like everyone else. Silene must have organized it this way so everyone could take part.

Across the room, Thorne speaks with Aria, his prince charming act out in full force. His eyes twinkle with mirth as he says something to her, giving her a smirk that I’m all too familiar with. He’s clad in a navy suit, perfectly tailored to show off the hard lines of his body. Aria’s hand is on his arm, and she laughs brightly, leaning into him. He winks. Hot jealousy spikes through me, and I stalk toward them.

“Thorne,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming tonight.” Aria looks at me with the briefest flash of annoyance before she bows.

“Your Majesty,” she says, “what an excellent idea the Velmarans had for this Winter Solstice. I dare say His Highness must have had a hand in these arrangements. The Velmarans are known for their own lavish dinner parties, I hear.” She flashes a pretty grin at Thorne, eyelashes fluttering, and it makes my magic rear up with ferocity. I crush it, not willing to let the room shake with my power and give away my feelings. You like Aria. She’s a good advisor. The reminder doesn’t help the feeling of my skin crawling.

Thorne looks my way, lust briefly flashing in his gaze as it drifts across my body, landing on the necklace. He grins at me, an intimate, half twist of his lips, like there’s a secret between us, before he turns back to Aria. A satisfied warmth creeps over my body, calming my magic.

“Oh, I had no hand in this whatsoever,” he admits. “I confess I usually hate the Velmaran dinner parties. It’s all to the credit of my advisor, Miss Kalmeera. And, of course, Her Majesty. This wouldn’t have been possible without Queen Laurel’s agreement to Silene’s schemes. You should extend your praises to them.” I can’t help but note that he referred to Silene as only an advisor.

“I see,” Aria says, realizing Thorne has dismissed her. “Well, I will go find Miss Kalmeera and offer her my thanks.”

When she’s out of earshot, Thorne turns to me. His eyes slowly travel the length of my body, like he’s drinking me in, and it sets my skin ablaze. “You look stunning,” he growls. I blush. “And my necklace suits you.”

“ Your necklace?” I ask, confused. Thorne looks sheepish.

“Well, uh, it was mine. But I wanted you to have it.”

“Why?” My eyes search his, but he’s spared from answering by Silene’s appearance at our side.

“Laurel, we’re about to start. Do you want to say anything?” she asks. I nod, then leave with her to address the room, mind still whirring from Thorne’s revelation and the way it stirs something inside me, something that feels ancient.

“Welcome to the first Winter Solstice dinner,” I say loudly to the group gathered for the dinner. “While the circumstances that led to this event were deeply upsetting, I’m happy to have this opportunity with all of you. As we dine tonight, please remember the lives we lost last week. Remember their families. Enjoy tonight and know that you’re welcome here in Thayaria’s palace. It’s your home as much as it’s mine. And please, join me in thanking our Velmaran emissaries, whose idea and planning led to this evening.” The crowd of human and fae, children and adults, bow to me, then clap for the Velmarans, and the sight is remarkable. I’m overcome with the vision of a future where dinners like this are common in Thayaria, both at the palace and around the kingdom. I raise my wine glass. “Happy Solstice!” I toast. The crowd echoes my toast, then breaks into the murmur of conversation.

Servants dressed in their own fancy gowns and suits uncover serving dishes with food before returning to the party, and Silene shoos people to go make plates.

“Your Majesty, you look beautiful,” Carex says as he approaches me.

“Thank you, Carex. And thank you for coming tonight.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. My parents are here as well. We decided to have our family dinner here instead of at their home.”

“That’s wonderful. Please, tell them Happy Solstice from me,” I say, then turn to make a plate, but his arm reaches out, halting me.

“Laurel, can I speak with you for a moment?” I look down at his hand wrapped around my wrist, gripping tightly. He removes it quickly. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Please, can we speak privately? Just over in that corner.” I nod and follow him there. “Laurel, I know you’ve been spending more time with the Velmarans. The Prince especially. My Royal Guards reported you spent an entire day with him in the training room the day after the attack.”

I’m shocked at the boldness of his statement, surprise quickly turning to anger. “Excuse me? May I remind you they are my Royal Guards, as I am the titular royal. You are simply their Captain, who serves at my pleasure. And who I spend my time with is none of your concern. What concerns me , however, is that you appear to be spying on your Queen. Receiving reports about me.”

Carex blanches, and he stammers his apologies. “Please, forgive me, Your Majesty. It was a series of poorly chosen words. It’s only that the guards informed me, as they were concerned for your safety. I assure you I’m not having you watched.” I study him closely, suspicion building. He now has access to Nemesia’s network of spies and informants. And he campaigned fiercely to be sent to Delsar for the Forum of Royals. Our relationship gave him access to many of the inner workings of the government, decades before he was an official advisor on my Council. Could he be the mole? “I wanted to speak with you because I need to share critical information,” he continues. “I’ve been trying to get a meeting scheduled with you since the day of the attack, but you’ve been busy helping prepare the palace. The guards who went to the thayar tower that day described seeing a fae who matches the description of Prince Hawthorne. It was a brief glimpse, as if light shielding failed for just a moment. I think he was there during the attack and is working with the rebels. We need to question him.” Carex’s eyes bore into me, concern and something else lingering in them.

This presents new challenges. I won’t be able to hide my partnership with the Velmarans for much longer if the rumors of this spread. I carefully consider my next words. “Thank you for the information. I’d like to think over the best approach for investigating this. Let’s not worry about it during Abscission.” Hopefully that buys me some time to squash these rumors. He nods, looking like he wants to say more, but I cut him off. “Now, I should sit with the people.” I turn and walk away.

As I approach the buffet to fill my plate, Thorne leans against the wall next to it, arms crossed. Something about his posture is off, not giving off the usual vibes of effortless nonchalance. When I enter the buffet line, he follows behind me.

“ Why is the Captain of your Royal Guard grabbing your wrist?” he asks icily, his eyes containing no trace of the flirting male I’m used to seeing. “I could see it from here. And he used your given name.” He clenches and unclenches his jaw. “Is everything okay?”

“Carex and I have… history. We used to—we were together. Lovers,” I joke. The muscle in Thorne’s jaw feathers. “He occasionally blurs the lines between advisor and monarch. He was informing me the guards spotted you at the tower during the attack. Descriptions made their way to him. We need to be careful.”

“Lovers?” he asks sharply, and his jaw clenches again.

I laugh. “I tell you that my advisors are warning me you’re involved with the rebels, and that’s what you focus on?”

“They can’t prove it, and as long as I’m not spotted again, it will pass. It was a brief sighting, and in a very confusing and highly emotional moment for them.” He waves as if this is trivial compared to his real question. “How long ago did your history end?” I study him for a moment, electricity sparking through me as I consider whether Thorne might be jealous. But surely he’s not. That seems like a stretch, especially for someone who flirts with everyone. And then I feel confused again, remembering that I chose not to pursue anything with him, and for good reason.

I roll my eyes to hide my conflicting emotions as I fill my plate with dish after dish. “A long time ago, Thorne. And it’s none of your business. He wanted more from me, but he couldn’t handle it. And I wasn’t ready for that commitment. He was afraid of me and still is. It never would have worked out. End of story.” I pause. “ Why am I telling you this? It’s so not your business.” He only shrugs and winks. I sigh. Aethers, this situation is weird.

“If he grabs you like that again, I want you to spear him through the middle with light,” he commands, that serious, unflinching leader emerging in his tone and expression.

“Noted.”

The Solstice dinner passes in joyful celebration. The people open up over the course of the evening, and I speak to many of them about their lives and what they lost in the attack. Though it breaks my heart, I feel hope—for the first time in a long time—that we’ll be able to rebuild and stop the rebellion. I wish Nemesia were here. She’d love seeing the people brought together like this, even though she’d pretend she hated the party. I smile inwardly thinking of her dressed up in a gown for a fancy dinner. She’d probably wear her fighting leathers underneath it, knowing her.

“This was a wonderful idea,” Admon leans over and says to me, interrupting my thoughts of Nemesia. I can’t help but agree. We clink our glasses together in a toast, and his eyes twinkle in a fatherly approval that makes me pull my shoulders back proudly. When dinner is over, Silene stands from her seat next to me.

“I hope you all enjoyed the delicious food. I certainly did. Now, we dance!” With a dramatic hand gesture, several advisors escort musicians into the room. They set up and begin with a lively tune.

Silene walks along the table, encouraging people to get up and dance. She’s asked to dance by practically every male in the room, but she turns them all away, preferring instead to run around chasing children while they scream with glee. Thorne and Fionn, on the other hand, are each led to the dance floor by females, though Fionn doesn’t look happy about it. Aria has her hand wrapped around Thorne’s, and she laughs at something he says. Steaming jealousy rears its head inside of me again. Silene seems oblivious, content to let her fiancé dance with a gorgeous and lust-filled female. Maybe they really are just friends.

“Laurel, would you dance with me?” Carex asks, startling me from my brooding. Although I want to say no, I need to distract myself. Taking Carex’s hand, he leads me to the dance floor just as a slow and traditional Solstice dance begins. Carex wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close as we sway to the music.

“This reminds me of our first Solstice together,” he says, voice low. “I think it was this very song that we danced to that night.”

We had danced to this song, alone in his parent’s home in Arberly after they’d gone to bed. We’d been courting for several months but hadn’t gotten serious until that night. It was the first Solstice I spent outside of the castle. At the time, I was so captivated by Carex’s handsomeness that I barely remembered the steps to the dance. He smiled every time I blushed, and we ended the night whispering our feelings for one another in front of the fire, kissing and fucking like adolescent fae experiencing their first relationship, even though it was hardly the first time for either of us.

“It was this song,” I say, smiling at the memory, cheeks heating.

Carex’s hand tightens around my waist, and he pulls me closer, placing his forehead on mine. “Laurel,” he breathes. “I’ve missed you.”

“You see me every week,” I respond as I pull my head back, knowing that’s not what he means.

“I see the Queen every week. I haven’t seen Laurel, my Laurel, in a long time,” he whispers. “But something about you is different. In a good way. You seem lighter, happier. More open, despite everything going on.” His hand splays across my back, fingers lightly exploring, trailing closer and closer to my ass. I stiffen.

“Carex—don’t. We agreed. We both wanted to move on. We couldn’t give each other what we needed.” I repeat the words we’d said.

“What if—what if I don’t? Want to move on, I mean. All I ever wanted was for you to open up to me, to the world. That’s what I needed from you. Maybe now you’re ready to give it to me. I know you didn’t think our relationship was over for good back then. I certainly didn’t.” His gray eyes are shining and hopeful. When it ended, there was a part of me that had hoped he’d change his mind, hoped he’d give me a reason to try again. I’ve imagined countless conversations like this one over the last several decades.

Now those thoughts have been consumed by others that are decidedly not about Carex. Thoughts about someone who’s equally unavailable, but who’s undoubtedly the reason for the change Carex has noticed in me. I almost laugh aloud, realizing Carex wants me now that someone else has brought out what he never could.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I say slowly, but Carex interrupts me.

“Why not? Lots of fae couples go through up and down periods. My own parents have had three different marriages, and they’ve ended things temporarily in between them each time, but always decide to come back to one another. We can have a whole new relationship. We’re different people now, just like my parents.” He pulls me tighter, and I feel smothered.

“We’re not them, Carex.” I try to pull out of his grasp, but he grips me tighter. I push against his chest, my eyes blazing with anger, and he releases me, but keeps my hands firmly grasped in his.

“Laurel,” he pleads. “Think about this night. This song.”

Now I’m fuming, and suspicion about the song causes me to rip my hands out of his. “Did you set the musicians up to this? Tell them to play this song?” He doesn’t answer, but his sheepish look and flushed cheeks are all the answer I need.

“We were so good together,” he whispers in a desperate attempt to keep me here.

“We actually weren’t, Carex. We didn’t end only because of me . And you’re still the same male you were then.” I will a small orb of water to collect near his face, not even honing it into a dagger, and Carex’s eyes widen in fear. “Exactly,” I say before turning from him.

He grabs my wrist again, this time tightly, forcing me to face him. “Please, help me understand—”

“I was hoping to have the pleasure of dancing with Her Majesty,” a familiar and comforting voice says behind me. Thorne angles his body between Carex and me, his scent washing over me and drowning out everything else.

“We’re still dancing,” Carex sneers with the sheerest mask of polite courtier.

“Doesn’t look like that to me,” Thorne hisses, taking my arm and removing Carex’s hand from my wrist before placing his hand on my shoulder. “Your Majesty, would you like to dance with me?”

“I would, thank you.” In an instant, Thorne has wrapped me in his arms and spun me away. As we turn, Carex returns to my line of sight. He looks furious, eyes narrowed, shoulders tense, hands balled.

“What happened to running him through the gut with a light spear, witchling?” Thorne growls. I laugh.

“I would have, but someone interrupted before I got the chance,” I tease. Thorne shrugs.

“I’m not sorry. I don’t take kindly to males touching females when they don’t consent. Daddy issues, remember?” he says with a wink. I want to press him, to ask about what his father did to his mother, but I drop it. Not here, where he’s the Shining Prince, with no worries or fears. I know better than anyone the need to separate the vulnerable person behind the mask from the public face we wear.

“Thank you,” I murmur. He only pulls me closer, the heat of his hand through the thin silk of my dress both deliciously warm and scalding hot. As we perform the movements of the dance, my body heats, and not from the activity.

“Let’s go outside,” I say, surprising myself. “I’m hot and want to cool off.”

“Can’t say I disagree,” he growls with a devilish glint in his eye. I can only roll my eyes at him for what feels like the millionth time as we walk to the small terrace built off the side of the palace. As soon as we walk outside, the frigid air cools my flushed cheeks. “Fuck, it’s cold. I know I say that literally every time we walk outside. But fuck ,” Thorne says, exasperated and shivering, though still looking every inch a prince.

“You’re so whiny,” I tease, even as I wrap him in a warm magical embrace.

“Thanks,” he says, and I give him a flirtatious wink. Suddenly, snow begins to fall around us in thick, dense flakes. Thorne’s eyes light up as he stares up at the sky. “Is this snow?”

“What do you mean, is this snow? Of course it is!”

Thorne shrugs. “I’ve never seen it. Doesn’t snow in Velmara.”

My jaw practically drops to the floor. “Seriously?”

He places his hand over his heart. “I swear it on what little honor I have. Which is practically none. So you’ll never know, I guess.” He winks.

I giggle, the sound so unfamiliar to my ears that I almost choke. Thorne smirks at me like he knows the effect he has on me, but it sends me spiraling. Am I just another pretty face among a sea of beautiful females? Do I look just like Aria does when she’s near him, fawning and blushing every time he looks my way? I study him closely, looking for answers I know I won’t find. When he notices, his eyes turn serious.

“What was all that about, anyway? With Carex? Is he still talking about the guards seeing me? It didn’t look like a conversation between advisors to me.” He says the words with forced nonchalance, like he’s making a joke with a friend, but I can see his tensed shoulders through that tight suit jacket.

I smirk. “Not your business.”

“But I gave you such a pretty necklace. Doesn’t that at least give me the honor of being the friend who you tell all your boy troubles to,” he says with a mock pout, flecks of snow turning his hair and beard white, and I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“Fine,” I say, groaning. “He wanted to resume our former affair.”

Thorne’s eyes dilate and his nostrils flare. “And I’m assuming you don’t want to, judging by how quickly you tried to get away from him.”

“Not even a little. I told you, he’s afraid of my magic. Afraid of me. I can’t be with someone like that.”

“Good, witchling. You deserve someone who will worship you, who thinks your magic is just one of dozens of things they find incredible about you. Don’t settle for anything less.” The heat in his gaze lights me up inside, and I even catch myself studying my skin, wondering if I might be actually glowing. I’m not, but the spark inside of me doesn’t go out. For once, I step closer to Thorne, not the other way around, and I think I hear a low noise in the back of his throat.

“Laurel,” he breathes my name like a prayer, like a lifeline in the dark. His eyes are searching, darting across my face with all the fae senses he’s honed over centuries. Before I know what’s happening, his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me into him, and I don’t protest.

“Thorne,” is all I manage to whisper out. Somehow, he moves us up against the wall of the terrace, placing one arm above me so that all I can see is him. His tall and muscular frame is so much more pronounced this way, crowding my space and towering over me. It’s dark outside, but the light floating our way from the ballroom makes his features glow in a hazy brilliance.

He dips his head so our foreheads are touching, mirroring the movement Carex had forced on me only minutes ago. But this time, I welcome it. Slowly, gently, like I’m a wild animal that might spook if he’s not careful, Thorne brings his hand up to caress my face. His hand is massive, practically cradling my entire head in his palm. His thumb strokes over my lips, and an involuntary moan, so quiet I could almost miss it, escapes me. Or maybe it was him? I’m unsure, too wrapped up in his heated gaze.

His head leans down, and time stops. He’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me. I think. But maybe I don’t? I’m so unsure, still so tangled in knots when it comes to him. His reputation, his betrothal, the way he winks and simpers with every female around him. His kingdom. His father. I should stop this, but I don’t. When I feel his hard body press against my own, my resolve falters. Would it be so bad to give in to the attraction? Just for one night. So what if I’m just another conquest of the Shining Prince? I’m sure it would be electrifying, sure his experience makes him a skilled lover. Surely one time wouldn’t hurt anything.

My own body leans in, and I’m going to meet his lips with mine, going to—

“Laurel? Hawthorne? What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” We jump away from one another as Silene’s bouncing form prances over to us, breaking whatever spell we’d been under. I should feel relief, but as I turn my back on Thorne, all I feel is yearning need.