Page 60 of Wicked Prince of Frost

“Time got away from me,” I say. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Iseul waves off the apology. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No. But there are other things I would like to look into further.”

She glances around the section we’re standing in, then at the book in my hand. “What is that?”

Closing it, I shove it back on the shelf. “The royal family registries.” Then, at the confusion on her face, I add, “I wanted to know more about the prince and his family.”

It’s the closest thing to the truth I can say without having the bargain silence me.

Iseul brightens at that. “What is it you’d like to know? Mingi and I have known him for most of our lives. We couldtell you more than any book can.” She hesitates and lowers her voice. “He is not as bad as you might think. He’s been lonely for a long time—which is normal for most royals.”

I nod, wondering where this knowledge was the other day. I’ve come to somewhat understand his cold exterior and why he appears fine with being hated by nearly everyone. Most would put up a wall to protect themselves if they were in his place.

“Mingi and I owe him our lives. He found us when we were mere children.” Iseul says barely above a whisper as she leans back against the wall and stares vacantly out the window. “We were orphans. He saved us by bringing us into the palace. I suppose that is the reason we feel protective of him even after everything.”

I think of Joon falling to his knees before the ice wall, grasping onto the shard so tightly that it sliced into his palm. The pain on his face when he told me about the mirror and the curse. And the brightness of his laugh after he pulled me from the water.

It’s all too easy to forget who Joon is and to think of him as someone I could have interacted with in daily life back home whenever we argue and tease each other.

“He doesn’t act the way I would assume a prince to act,” I murmur, more to myself than to Iseul.

“Don’t judge him too harshly…” she says, misinterpreting my meaning. “He was always formal and reserved, but after the deaths of the king and queen, he became even more closed off. If you give him a chance and get to know him a little better…”

I take her hand and offer a reassuring smile. It isn’t my place to share the things I’m learning about him, so the best I can say is, “I think I am beginning to see what you see in him.”

We end our conversation abruptly in mutualunderstanding at the sound of the library’s main door sliding open, then closed again. Footsteps approach without hesitation.

Iseul and I wait, watching the space where the visitor will appear. She inhales sharply when it’s the prince who finds us. He looks between us, his expression hardening into a guarded mask.

It isn’t what she said about Joon but how she pleaded with me that helps me see his abrupt changes in mood for what they really are—a shield of ice to protect himself.

“Hello, My Prince,” I say, trying to break any awkwardness before it forms. “Iseul was just telling me it was time for dinner. Would you like to join me?”

She bows. “My Prince.”

His eyes narrow in suspicion, not at all fooled. “Actually, I came to ask you the same thing.”

Iseul squeezes my hand. She is practically vibrating with the need to say something.

“I would like that.”

“Dinner will be served in half an hour in the Western Court.” His winter blue gaze slowly travels over me from head to toe, then back, leaving a trail of warmth rising in my chest.

Perhaps it was my conversation with Iseul, but it is impossible to ignore how devastatingly handsome he is. Even the scar over his eye adds to his unearthly beauty rather than detracting from it.

He could forgo his crown and wear worn and dirty clothes, but he would still look every inch a prince.

How is it that there are times I can forget something so obvious?

Underneath that, I feel a pull toward him that has nothing to do with his looks. I cannot tell if it is the bond that ties me to him or our shared determination to defy the fates we’ve been dealt.

Joon nods and takes his leave.

Once he is gone, Iseul exhales a large breath as if she was holding it the entire time. She grabs my arms and shakes me lightly. “I have never seen him dine with any of his wives after the first night.” She bounces on her toes. “I think he likes you.”

I smirk. We have a mutual understanding between us that allows us to relax when we are alone, but that is all it is. And all it can be.