Foxglove

I twisted in my chair as the hairs on the back of my neck rose.

She was silent, eyes vacant, but she had found me, and that warmed something in my heart.

“Are you alright, Juniper?”

She didn’t speak. She never did.

I stood, moving to her side and held out my hand. “Would you like me to escort you to the kitchens? Dinner was an hour back, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

Her vision cleared, gaze dropping to my outstretched hand. Lightning fast, she reached for the dagger at my hip, but I caught her wrist, careful not to touch the mottled scars at the daintiest part of her arm.

I’d hoped the medicine Poppy gave her would wipe the drug from her system and restore her to her former self—the fierce satyr I’d heard legends of all those years ago—but the drugs in her system were magical in nature and had rooted so deeply inside her nothing Poppy tried had worked.

With so many wounded and nothing physically wrong with Juniper, there hadn’t been time to dedicate to a cure.

I ran my thumb in slow circles over her palm.

As with each time I’d done this before, her expression glazed, honey-colored eyes softening as she stared at nothing, and the tension in her arms relaxed.

“Come. Let’s eat.” I tugged her forward, and pliant as a doll, she went.

We reached the kitchens and after a quick scan of the room and all its sharp objects, I thought better of releasing her to gather items. Tugging her behind me, and keeping a healthy distance from the rack of knives, I grabbed a loaf of bread and a bowl of fruit, already prepared for tomorrow’s breakfast.

I could have taken her to her room, but it was sparse, unlived in, and I didn’t think that was what she needed. Pressing against the door to my room with an elbow, I ushered her inside and set the bread and fruit down on a low table overlooking the missing spring forest.

When my brother became prince, I’d moved to the old advisor’s room, first so I could keep a closer eye on my brother, but also because the advisor had many hidden passages by which to move throughout the castle.

Though I wasn’t my brother’s advisor—he said he had no need for such things as he sliced a blade cleanly across the male’s throat—I was his spymaster, and it benefited me greatly to have such access.

The view had been the one thing I liked about that room.

There was a comfort in having my old palace view here in this missing pocket of Faerie. In knowing that though my brother no longer had access to the place, I did.

Juniper sat without prompting and I exhaled a soft breath. My room was messy, lived in, and somehow, I was sure it was just the thing to begin the long process of bringing her back to herself.

A knock sounded at the door. I glanced down at the bowl beside Juniper, lips quirking. Some sense of self-preservation lived in her still. If I’d had to feed her, I would have been truly concerned.

“Yes?”

Murz burst into the room. “Prince Kaspar and his new princess have returned to court. They’ve just been wed. I think you should get back there.”

I straightened my collar, standing and nodding. “Stay by the door. Don’t let Juniper leave before I return,” I ordered. He dipped his chin and stepped back to let me pass.

Outside the throne room, Prince Kaspar glanced around the hall with bored indifference and by his side, the princess fidgeted in her wet clothes.

I reached them in three long strides and searched Sav’s ashen face for any sign of injury.

Seeing none, I glanced through the open doors.

Dipping my chin to both, I risked impropriety and addressed my question to the princess.

“Is my brother not aware of your arrival, Princess?” The way Alder ran his court was appalling—he spent more time putting our kingdom in peril than aiding it—but surely he wouldn’t keep the prince waiting knowing how much his army was needed.

She jolted, eyes widening at my use of her new title and licked her lips, meeting my gaze. “He is. He’s waiting for my sister to arrive.”

I ground my teeth. Would this constant bid for superiority between the twins never end? “I’ll find her.”

“No need,” Prince Kaspar drawled, glancing my way. “In ten seconds, princess or no, I'll see the Hawthorn heir and he will give me what’s owed.”

A chill settled in my veins at his cold clinical words.

I wouldn’t have wished this marriage on an enemy, much less someone I’d considered a friend.

If I could have spared her from it, I would, but there was only one male I feared in all of Faerie and I would have offered to marry Sav myself before I saw her sold to the prince of summer.

As promised, the prince tightened his arm in Sav’s and dragged her forward when ten seconds had passed.

I let them go, hugging the wall of the throne room as I moved into the shadows.

Several spring court soldiers lined the room.

Most of the remaining army. A fact no one outside the royal family knew.

When Earth and Faerie collided, our land had begun to disappear, but unlike most of the other courts, our people disappeared with it.

Each time we lost another slice of Spring, dozens of folk disappeared.

Although we’d located much of the missing land, even if we couldn’t find a way to reunite it with the rest of our kingdom, none of the missing fae were in it.

My attention moved to the throne. Alder was raising his hands in a placating gesture. Something I’d rarely seen him do. But he was more eager than most to have the prince’s army guarding our border and whether Kaspar knew it or not, my brother would have given him just about anything to ensure it.

“You will unbind my bride immediately.”

A bead of sweat dotted Alder’s brow as I approached. “Brother. Shall I fetch your wife?”

He flicked an irritated glance at me. “No need. Silv is enroute and is perfectly capable.”

Sav’s lips were white and she trembled, but though she was still wet from her swim, I didn’t think it was a chill.

“I am certain the princess would prefer her sister be the one to do it.” My gaze moved between the two princes.

My brother was hiding something. Would Sage truly not unbind her sister?

Would she go back on a bargain? No matter how jealous she was, I didn’t think so.

Silv raced into the room, halting at the foot of the throne and dropped her head low.

She was a satyr of no small talent and the leader of her clan, certainly capable of a normal unbinding.

But the princess of spring was not a weak fae.

Her binding would be nearly impossible to remove without her earth magic.

I studied the satyr looking for any common traits between her and my new ward.

I hadn’t known Juniphera personally, but I’d heard of her.

When we fought in the great war five centuries ago, she had led her clan to victory, defending our borders more fiercely than all the orc commanders combined.

What had happened to her that she had been cast out of Faerie?

Silv held her hands up to either side of Sav’s head, whispering softly. I had never witnessed a binding, and had been away from court when Sage had done this horrible thing to her sister. For if I had been present, I certainly would have stopped it.

Sav cried out and Prince Kaspar wrapped his hands around hers, squeezing.

It was the most emotion I’d ever seen from the sea creature and I quirked a brow, studying his passive face.

There was nothing in it that spoke of concern.

To anyone watching, he was as indifferent in this as he had been upon learning of his parents’ death.

But there were small things, tells one learned when working as a spy.

The way his shoulders hunched forward, his hips angled in her direction.

The stiffness in his back when he often appeared to be floating on some phantom current, lithe and carefree.

He was a master at hiding it, but I had just learned a valuable secret about the ruler of lakes and streams. One that might benefit me greatly in the future.

If only his weakness was anything other than Sav.