Chapter 22

As we neared the Ashthorne castle, I noticed how few homes there were, if they could even be called that. They were rounded little caves that lead underground, with only a small door to distinguish them. I had always pictured a castle and the area around it as a place filled with life and the thrum of people as they came and went—at least in the books and movies back home. But this place seemed abandoned—like over time it had been lost.

"Who lives here?"

"Goblins," Ronan answered quietly like he feared someone might hear him. "High goblins. They do not look much different from high fae, as you will see, but they have their own... special quirks."

I knew of goblins, but the image that came to mind was of Everard with his large knobby head and long pointed ears. It was hard to imagine them looking anything like Ronan or Eirian.

A fit of coughs racked my body, and my head pounded. I could tell Ronan was looking at me, but he said nothing.

"Quirks, you say, like terrible personalities? I'm starting to think that's pretty universal out here."

"Yes," Ronan agreed, not quite catching the jibe. "Their personalities are horrible. The princess, Eaven, is tolerable, but Prince Theodan is completely unreasonable. It does not help that he sees me as some kind of...competition."

We reached a drawbridge, the entire thing covered in a layer of thick frost. We paused before crossing, looking up at the castle walls. This close I could see it wasn't only icy, but made entirely of ice. The light caught and refracted through the shards, creating the illusion of diamonds encrusting the high points. Long icicles dangled over the entrance into the courtyard, poised to fall and impale those who dared tread underneath them.

Nea jolted forward. He made easy work of the slippery drawbridge.

"If they are so unlikable, then why are we here?"

Ronan drew us into the empty courtyard. He dismounted and then stood. Snow stuck in his wild dark curls, catching on the long lashes that framed his severe eyes. He looked out of place in the snow. It was too gentle and soft, the flakes melting before they met his skin.

He held out a hand so that I could use it to help myself down. Once he placed me on my feet, I staggered forward but caught myself before falling against his chest.

He looked down at me with a frown, then moved back, steadying me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Because it is the only place in the Ashthorne Mountains where we are safe. You are sick, and even if Theodan does not care for me, he cannot deny us if I request his help."

Before I could reply, I heard a door bang open across the yard. Ronan dropped his arm from me. Nea shifted and grunted behind us, and Ronan moved to him. He placed a hand on the side of the horse and Nea immediately settled down.

Nea, it seemed, didn't like anyone who wasn't Ronan. I didn't exactly feel sympathetic for the foul-tempered horse.

I followed Ronan's gaze, not missing how his expression had steeled over from a moment ago. He reminded me more of the fae that had fought in the Wild Hunt at that moment than the man who had been confused and concerned trying to deal with his sick human wife. I knew there was more to him than that, as he had shown me out in the mountains, but the shift in his demeanor still had me crossing my arms over my chest.

My eyes caught on the two figures approaching us, and I did a double take. I had seen many different kinds of fae so far in Faerie—but nothing like them.

Walking toward us were a beautiful man and woman. The male was striking in a way I had never seen before. His pale complexion nearly blended in with the snow, and his silver hair slung down in a long braid. He moved elegantly, his tall, lithe frame gliding across the snowy courtyard. Thick spun robes of a light grey swept down from his arms and dusted the ground as he walked.

Beside him was a creature of a completely different kind—had I known better, I would never have guessed they were related. Her skin was a few shades darker, a deep grey. Pale white hair fell straight down on either side of her face. Her eyes were a stark white against her sharp, angular features.

But her face wasn't what held my attention.

From the top of her head rose tall, sweeping antlers. They were decorated with a dazzling array of chains and trinkets that tinkled together as she walked, the only sound as the two royal goblins approached. The woman's eyes fixed on me, and her decorations rang together as she tilted her head sharply, eyes narrowing as they took me in.

It was the male—Prince Theodan I supposed—who spoke. I could tell who he was by how he looked at Ronan with unconcealed hatred.

"Your Highness—" he did not sound pleased to be using the title, his lip curling up in contempt, "—may I ask, what brings you to Ashthorne this fine day?"

Your... Highness?

Before I could even fathom what that meant, Ronan replied, "Theodan—" Ronan gestured to me, "—my wife has taken ill. We need shelter and refuge until she is well enough to travel, then we will be off. Also, we will need warm clothes, furs, and food for the remainder of our journey."

My cheeks reddened. Part of me wished he had spoken in whatever Faerie tongue I had heard Ronan speak, but based on the lilt of Theodan's voice, I wasn't sure they understood the same language Ronan did.

Or, Ronan just liked to piss him off. Something I had the feeling he was a little too good at.

"You could have provided us with some warning before such a visit, we are not used to having..."

He seemed to struggle for a moment. "Guests."

The way he said the word made it sound like a threat. Beside Theodan, his sister's face broke into a wide grin. I took a step back, moving closer to Ronan.

Ronan looked between them, a curled grin lifting his lips, but it didn't meet his eyes. Not like the one I had seen out in the snow. This one was cold and distant, more like the fae I ahd seen during the Hunt.

"Yes, well, I did not anticipate such an inconvenience. Now, do you have any rooms?"

Theodan's pale lips pressed tightly together like he hoped to tear Ronan apart with his bare hands. I shifted, feeling uneasy as I glanced between my faerie husband and this goblin that  clearly disliked him. The glint in Ronan's eyes suggested that he enjoyed provoking them.

"Of course." Theodan's pale eyes darted to me for the first time since approaching us. The Prince looked me up and down, then wrinkled his nose. "I do believe they will be fit for a male of your... stature, and his bride. Mortal, is she?"

He said the word mortal like it was something dirty. I felt myself bristle, but I caught myself before speaking.

If he had a bed I could sleep in, I would probably forgive him for anything right about now.

His sister was amused, letting out a tinkling laugh. I winced at the sound. It was high-pitched and pierced sharply through my eardrums. I had avoided looking at her, but I could feel her eyes on me the entire time.

She said something to her brother. The language sat heavy in her throat, yet was smooth and flowing. I didn't think I had heard it so far in Faerie.

Ronan's jaw was tense, something I had come to know meant he was containing his anger. "That will do then, Theodan."

I didn't know much about titles or how they were used, but I felt that the lack of one coming from Ronan was significantly related to the tense silence that followed. Any amusement had vanished from Eaven's face, and Theodan looked downright murderous. The tension between them was at odds with the peaceful glide of small flakes of snow as they constantly danced through the air.

"Excellent. The girl can go with Eaven. She will see her to her room. And you... Your Highness. I'm sure you remember where you stayed from the last time?" Theodan made it sound like it had not been nearly long enough.

Ronan crossed his arms.

"I will be roomed together with my wife. We have been wed."

Theodan's eyes slid slowly to his sister. The female goblin's lips turned down into a small frown. Whatever they exchanged was not meant for Ronan or me to understand.

I felt him hovering protectively near me as he eyed the goblins. I stayed close to him because even after seeing what Ronan could do, I still trusted him more than them.

Ronan at least wanted me alive. I had no idea if these two goblins felt the same. I had a feeling they would be a lot more ambivalent when it came to my well-being.

"Yes, very well. You may both stay in the same room. My sister will still see that she is provided with the means she needs and... bathed. Eaven has some skill in human medicine if you do recall. From when our uncle lived here."

"I do." Ronan didn't seem thrilled, his eyes darting between Eaven and me. I looked over at the goblin warily. She was still staring, her white gaze fixed on me.

"You come with me, little human wife." Her accent was much thicker than her brother's, and I suspected she didn't speak outside of their language often.

"I won't bite."

Doubtful.

I smiled thinly back at her but followed after Eaven as she moved towards the castle. I didn't have much choice.

I heard Ronan and Theodan exchange a few more words as I moved out of earshot. Though Ronan did not follow after me, I could feel his eyes piercing into my back until I was inside Ashthorne's doors. Even after wanting to be rid of him for days, now I was hesitant to leave him behind.

I straightened and lifted my chin, even as weariness crashed down on me. I would never be free of him if I continued to rely on him.

Eaven ushered me into the icy castle with another cat-like grin over her shoulder. But, as we passed inside the walls, I saw her shoulders slump, and something in her mischievous gaze shifted. She turned away, no longer looking at me.

"You will have warm bath, no worry. It cold outside, but warm in here." She pointed an elongated finger decorated with a ruby-encrusted ring at the wall, which was thick with frost.

I nodded, thinking it must work similarly to an igloo. A cold and icy exterior, but warm from a thick layer of insulation on the inside. Still, I felt uneasy. Eaven quickened her pace, and I did my best to follow her, even though my body felt heavy and sluggish.

"Where is everyone?" If they were royalty, I figured they would at least have servants or some attendants.

Eaven shot me a look, the grin she bore earlier still plastered across her face, though it seemed less gleeful. The halls were wide and tall enough to accommodate her antlered head. She appeared tired, but the task of playing host had triumphed over everything else.

"Not many like the cold."

She turned back to walk down the hallway, and I followed. Even though the air didn't carry a bite as it had outside, there was no denying the coldness that was seeping up from the floor and into my thin boots.

"Why don't you and your brother like Ronan?" I had a few ideas, bloodthirsty Night fae being one of them, but I couldn't help my curiosity. After spending so much quality time with him, I was interested in what other information I could glean.

Eaven's smile faltered momentarily at my question before she could compose herself again.

"My brother does not like Ronan. I do not care." She held out a hand, which bore a ring on every finger. "Theodan is jealous, but it means nothing. Crown only goes to winner, and my brother will not win against Fire Bastard or the Prince, especially if the Queen's brother has say. I tell him this, but he ignores me," she replied vaguely, only creating more questions for me.

"The Crown? What do you--"

"No more questions," Eaven said, cutting me off. She fixed me with a pale-eyed glare. "Try asking husband if you must know."

We finally reached our destination. She swung open tall doors decorated with swirls of crystallized frost. It created intricate patterns, blurring the room from view. I couldn't help gazing at the room in awe.

The floor was a sleek layer of ice, yet when I walked inside I didn't slip--likely some faerie enchantment in place. In the center of the room was an opening in the floor that gave the impression of falling into a dark lake, only the water was a clear blue, like a pool melted from a glacier. It steamed, filling the air with droplets of humidity, but did not melt any of the surrounding ice. It frothed and bubbled, beckoning my cold and tired body into its depths.

A vanity made of crystalline shards of more ice sat on the other side of the room, a tall clear mirror reflecting my haggard face above a collection of trinkets and jars. The air smelled sweet, like fresh pine mixed with the warm aroma of vanilla.

Eaven stood motionless by the door as I wandered into the room. She watched me curiously for a moment before she spoke.

"You wash yourself here." She wrinkled her nose. "You need it. I bring new clothes fit for lady then take you to room after."

I smiled weakly at her. A part of me almost wished the fae could lie just so I didn't have to bear their bluntness. Though she was right, I probably did smell.

"Now have hot bath. Stay long as you like, human. It will help the sickness." Eaven turned to the door. She glanced at me. "You need to get better soon."

The door whispered shut behind her, leaving me alone in the warm lavatory. I stood motionless for a long moment, staring ahead blankly.

"I know," I replied, even though no one but myself was listening.