Page 153 of Wicked Prince of Frost

“Why?” I demand. “You wouldn’t bring me anywhere near here if?—”

“It’s the Traitor King,” Iseul says.

Immense relief floods through my body.

“I searched the immediate area for any trace of the prince yesterday. He is not here. If you truly wish to see the carnage, then I won’t stop you. However, you will gain nothing by doing so.”

I relent. The urge to see the other side has been satisfied with that honesty. Even clinging to hope, I still need reassurance to quell my fears.

We begin our search in the west and ride east, then move north, before riding west again, zigzagging across the kingdom, leaving no swath of land unchecked. Somber silence remains our companion with each arc taking us further and further from the palace.

Mingi and Iseul use their magic to leave markers that will allow us to readily identify the ground we covered.

After several hours, we break to build a fire and eat a small meal. I chew and swallow, barely tasting the food. Worry makes it difficult to get more than a few bites down. The only one whose appetite is unaffected is Bear’s. I sneak them pieces of meat and potatoes that they happily gobble up until my plate is cleared.

I stare into the flames, holding my hands to the heat eventhough I don’t feel the need to warm myself. The cold hasn’t gone past a surface level easily banished with a bit of movement. A thought briefly crosses my mind, wondering if tolerance to the cold is another side effect of Joon using his powers on me.

I turn my hand over and stare at the base of my middle finger. Tilting it this way and that, I can’t help but hope to see the faint shimmer of the thread that binds me to Joon. That if the light hits just right, it will still be there, a whisper of spider silk, letting me know he is waiting for me, somewhere.

The second part of the day is much the same as the first. We’ve yet to find the smallest sign or clue that could tell us one way or the other of Joon’s fate.

The westernmost edge of the fae lands is a steep slope into an inhospitable tundra beyond. Grounds that are nothing but deep ravines with spikes of rock jutting up several stories high. Ice has formed over everything with sharp edges and points. Storm clouds cover the wild lands as if they are trapped, lashing wind over the landscape in their anger as they kick up a haze of snow.

“We should turn back now if we want to make it back to the palace before nightfall,” Mingi announces.

Going back now feels like giving up, even if I know it’s not. There isn’t enough daylight to do another pass today. Dying will not bring us any closer to finding Joon.

“In addition to the added travel time, each pass we do will take more time than the last—so don’t expect to make as much progress as today,” he adds. “We can’t risk missing anything.”

I set my jaw and nod. Already, I feel my heart demanding the impossible of me.

Mingi and Iseul steer their horses toward the palace, but I remain in place a moment longer, staring into the wild.

Perhaps it’s only the need to believe that we are still somehow connected. But something inside me is wound tight, as if we are just on the verge of finding him.

I have to believe we will succeed. For as long as we don’t find his body, there is still a chance that he is alive.

“Tomorrow,” I whisper a promise to Joon, hoping it will find its way to him. “I will find you tomorrow.”

Then I turn and follow my companions.

CHAPTER FORTY- ONE

VIOLET

Once more,we make the trip back to the palace. A heavy presence hovers over me from behind. Weighing me down. I lag behind Mingi and Iseul, mostly ignoring their conversations that fill the silence.

After a week of searching from sunup to sundown, we have failed to find so much as a scratch to hint at Joon’s whereabouts. It’s as if he never existed at all. Even Star Runner seems to drag their feet in disappointment.

I promised to find him, and day after day, I fail to keep my word.

“—need a contingency plan. The officials are upset that a new Minister of Shields has not yet been appointed. A few of them have already requested an audience with him to discuss the matter.”

Pieces of their conversation reach me as they adjust their pace to prevent me from falling too far behind. I listen with mild disinterest. Those in positions of authority will always find something to take issue with the hopes that the solution will bring them more power.

“Demons take them, they frustrate me to no end,” Iseul snaps, gesturing wildly with her hands. “Even when they are told he is recovering from defending them against the Traitor King.”

The two of them continue talking among themselves as they flank me, half a horse length ahead.