Page 59 of Wicked Prince of Frost

The closest I found was a brief mention of mirrors being able to hold and store a limited amount of magic temporarily. However, it lacked any specifics, such as how long it can retain power, whether it can only be done with the power by the one using the mirror, or if someone can take and store another’s magic.

The day Joon showed me the mirror, I could tell he had left some details out. Curses are born out of pain and suffering. And with the sharp pain behind his eyes, it seems cruel to ask him to relive it for the sake of my curiosity.

The more I think over everything, the stranger it seems that Joon can’t remember anything about the day he was cursed, especially if he is responsible for everything.

Did his injury or the sheer trauma of it all cause him to forget? Or is there something more sinister than even his malediction?

There is no point in stewing over questions that don’t have answers. I shove those thoughts away for another time and weave my way through the maze of shelves, making mental notes of the books I would like to go through another time.

Along the entire length of the back wall are family records. The royal and noble families are a given, but I am surprised to see records of the common fae that work in the palace as well.

The bindings, as well as shelf placement, reflect the status of the families. Leather and polished metal corners are reserved for royalty, placed higher, away from the ground. Painted for the nobles, they are positioned in the middle, while unadorned shelves, reserved for all other families, are placed at the lowest level, with the thinnest volumes.

I pull a book at random and flip through it. Name, date of birth, marriages, children, extended family members and their relationship to them, the day and cause of death. They even go into detail with any other notable information, such as crimes or significant achievements.

I find it impressive that everything is written down as fact, without emotion or bias.

The records are far more detailed, but not wholly different from the ones we keep in Firnhallow, with the biggest contrast being that the fae records include their magicabilities and strength. It explains why we keep such detailed accounts. Though we must keep our personal family records updated ourselves, and in the event that we are unable, the next of kin is charged with the task.

It makes me wonder if the similarities are a leftover echo of the time humans and fae used to live among each other.

I place the book back on the shelf and search the royal family’s most recent volumes. Perhaps there is someone whose magic abilities could help find a solution to this curse or even shed some light on the unknowns.

My hand hovers over the rich, dark leather of a spine as another snags my attention, and I grab that one instead, opening to a random page.

Sameun, born of Arum

Born to the Arum Lands in the year of the Thirteenth Wind.

First son of King Jiho, born of Eolda and Queen Nabi, born of Arum.

Bonded demon: UNBONDED.

Made interim king in the year of the First Moon.

He became the acting king the year everything had changed for this kingdom. Which makes sense, Joon would have been too young, and with the deaths of the last king and queen, Arum needed a ruler.

I flip through the next few pages until I find Joon’s name.

Joon, born of Arum

First son of King Silla, born of Arum and Queen Raya, born of Lummi.

Born in the year of the Seventh Frost.

Bonded demon: Imugi

Named Crown Prince at age seven, in the year of the Fourteenth Frost.

I was born in the year of the Twelfth Frost, which means we are only five years apart.

The page doesn’t lie as flat as it ought to. When I turn to the next, I find out why. Jagged remnants of a torn-out page poke out along the crease.

“Oh, there you are.” Iseul lets out a dramatic sigh as she rounds a shelf. “I came to get you for dinner, but when you weren’t at the desk, I was worried I might have lost you again.”

I blink in surprise. It’s later than I realized. Just the mention of food makes my stomach growl.

Iseul laughs, and I join in.