Page 160 of Wicked Prince of Frost

I tell them a simplified version about the curse and my time with Joon, leaving out the part about the bargain and the more intimate details, and downplaying the extent of the danger I was in. There’s no point in upsetting them when everything turned out well in the end.

“We should go in and let you get settled,” Father says, waving to someone behind me.

I turn to find a hired groom jogging toward us. As soon as I see his pointed ears, I recognize him as one of the young stable hands from the palace.

The young man smiles brightly and bows his head.

“It’s you!” I say.

There were many times when I caught sight of him leaving the stable after preparing food, water, and always ready to care for Star Runner after a long day of searching.

“Lady Iseul arranged this job when she learned I wanted to move to a human city. She said you’d need my expertise,” he says, holding his chin high.

Though we’ve never spoken before, I can’t help feeling a surge of affection.

I laugh. “She’s right. I would never have been able to do an adequate job without you.” I reach up and stroke the Star Runner’s long nose. “You’re part of our family now, so let me know if you ever need anything.”

“Violet?” Mother calls from the porch, motioning for me to hurry.

I say a few more words in parting to the young fae, then hurry to catch up with my parents.

Bear hesitates when at the threshold, before I remember that demons need to be invited before they can enter a home. “Well, come on,” I say. “This is your home, too.”

“Who… is this?” Mother quirks a brow.

“This is Bear. A friend gifted them to me, to keep me safe.” I leave out the full truth. My heart is not yet ready to share memories of Joon.

“Them?” Mother mouths the word, catching my slip.

I smile nervously and plead silently for her not to say anything. She gives me a look that says she won’t, but fully expects me to go into detail later.

Father seems blissfully unaware of the reality as he frowns down at the little demon. “I don’t want an animal in the house,” he says.

Bear turns their face up, blinking large, sorrowful eyes at him. Theydefinitelyhave the puppy act down.

Mother puts a hand on his shoulder and says, “It’s fine. Bear was a gift.” Then to me, she mouths, “You owe me for this.”

Bear leaps up and races inside, disappearing into one of the rooms. Their talons even sound like dog paws as they explore.

“All right,” Father grumps, only half serious. “But it better not make a mess.”

I step out into the bright afternoon and close the door to my patient’s home near the border of the neighboring town Winterfell. Tendrils of the sun’s warmth cut through the late winter air, whispering the promise of spring.

Even something as simple as delivering draughts to help ease the ache of arthritis for an aging couple fills me with a deep sense of contentment.

It’s hard to believe that a year has passed since I finished my apprenticeship and opened my own practice. For over ayear, I studied under Physician Wilkes in Avalan. Countless hours with days that began with the sun cresting the horizon, and continued long after it set, I worked to hone the knowledge from my years of research into something useful.

Bear stands guard beside Star Runner. I climb into the saddle, then we start down the road, beginning the several-hour ride home.

Halfway back, a light snow begins to fall. I reach out my palm to catch a few flakes. Sometimes, when it snows, I like to think Joon is sending me a message from the Otherworld.

It’s hard to believe that several weeks have passed since I received word of his death. The world has taken on a surreal veneer. Were it not for my work giving me purpose and the support of my family and friends, I think it would have destroyed me completely.

A flash of white against the darkened backdrop of the woods in the distance catches my attention. When I look, there is nothing more than large snowflakes fluttering gently to the ground.

Bear makes a small noise, then darts ahead and disappears into the trees.

“Wait!” I call, racing after them, but they don’t seem to hear me. By the time I enter the cover of branches, I’ve already lost track of Bear.