“Why is it always you?” he asked.

  I opened my eyes. He wasn’t looking at me, but at my hand. He clearly wanted to make sure he knew exactly where that towel was going.

  “That isn’t the question I thought you would ask,” I said, still struggling to make sounds with my throat.

  “There are many other women in this competition, and yet you are the one…” he stopped himself before continuing the thought, then paused. “Tell me what happened to you tonight.”

  “There’s not much to say.”

  “You destroyed the royal aviary. Most of the birds are gone, but some of those that escaped had been in our care for generations. If we do not find them, they will not survive; and that is to say nothing about the amount of time and effort it will take to rebuild the structure.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to give me a reason why all of this happened.”

  He had me. Again. I’d been here before, the last time I was accosted by Mareen and her little group of mean girls. I remembered the way the Prince had tried to get me to cry wolf, but I hadn’t because that wasn’t the way I’d been raised. My mothers taught me at a very young age never to blame anyone else for the situations I might find myself in.

  The best way out was always through, and that advice had served me well so far.

  “Don’t ask me to lie to you,” I said.

  “I don’t want you to lie to me,” he said, “I want to know the truth.”

  “The truth is it was an accident. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “And what did you mean to happen?”

  “I wanted to get some sleep. Fate had other plans for me.”

  The Prince gave me his eyes. “Fate,” he said, his voice low. He paused, then he took the rag and dipped it in the bowl. It was black and brown when it went in, but clean when it came back up and dripping with that turquoise liquid. There was no sign of blood or dirt in the bowl, either. It was all gone.

  He dabbed the cloth against my arm, now, steadily drawing it across some of the smaller cuts. I knew, that he knew what had happened tonight. Maybe he didn’t know all the facts, but he must’ve known I wasn’t in the aviary for my own reasons, or of my own free will. There was no reason for that.

  Prince Cillian also knew I wasn’t going to say another word on the subject. I wasn’t going to give him any names, I wasn’t going to cry wolf. Asking me specific questions and looking for specific answers would be forcing me to lie to him, and I got the impression he didn’t want that from me, either.

  “When I was a young boy,” he said, “My father and I went into the forest at midnight on the longest night of the year. I thought I was being taken on a hunt, but in truth, we were on a quest to find my first bonded companion.”

  “Bonded companion?”

  “It is a tradition on my father’s side of the family. In order to earn our place within the family, boys must go into the forest and find the biggest, most dangerous beast lurking, and wrestle it into submission.”

  “That sounds dangerous.”

  “It is. Some boys have died in the past, those who were not strong enough. I was the one to spot the animal’s tracks. Paw-prints in the snow… it was a bear, some twelve, or thirteen feet tall, covered in white fur, its eyes as blue and as bright as mine. We stalked it for a time, watching as it hunted smaller prey to eat. When it finally set itself to rest, my father asked me if I was ready to do what I had to do. The bear was three times my size and far more powerful, but I did not want to disappoint him, so I attacked.”

  “With what?”

  “My hands. I didn’t want to hurt it, only make it submit.” He smiled to himself, then shook his head like he was reliving a fond memory, some strands of his hair falling lazily about his eyes.

  I waited, then spoke. “What happened?”

  The Prince set the rag down in my hand, then popped the first few buttons of his shirt off, exposing his chest. Peeling it off to the side, I noticed some of the skin around his chest was scarred, discolored, and hairless where there should’ve been some chest hair. It was the first time I had seen any kind of imperfection on one of the fae.

  And it was perfect…

  “It mangled me,” he said. “It’s a miracle I survived at all.”

  “Well, that was stupid.”

  “When I recovered enough to remain conscious for more than a few minutes at a time, my father sat by my bed. He told me, there is a fine line between bravery and stupidity. Then he got up, and I didn’t see him again until I was fully healed.”

  “His majesty is an intelligent man.” Even if he is a bit of a heartless jerk. Who lets his son charge a sleeping bear three times his size?

  The Prince let his eyes fall on me again. “Are you being brave right now, or stupid?”

  “Did you know the answer to that question when you were staring at that bear and thinking, yeah, I can totally do this?”

  Silently, he nodded, then he picked up the cloth from my hand, washed it again. This time, he placed one hand on the ragged remains of my ripped-up t-shirt, just around my ribs. I sucked in a deep breath and held it in my lungs. Carefully, he brought the wet cloth down to my abdomen and started taking care of some of the cuts and scratches I hadn’t even noticed I had.

  He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look me in the eyes. Occasionally he would tilt his head this way and that, examining his work. I, meanwhile, had lost the ability to take a breath like a normal person. I also didn’t know what to do with my hands, both of which now seemed fully healed and not sore in the slightest.

  I felt his thumb, the one on my ribs, gently roll up and down. A moment later, the rest of his fingertips were delicately—and only very slightly—stroking my body over the fabric of my shirt. I swallowed hard, several times, to try and fight the way my body was reacting to him, but it was useless.

  Despite the cold all around me, inside I was all heat steadily rising. My heart was pounding again, my mind wandering. I hadn’t forgotten what had passed between us on the balcony. In fact, images, sensations, that kiss, it all came rushing back to me in an uncontrollable flood.

  I felt my knees press together, my thighs clenching, toes curling. I knew I was in pain, but soft waves of want were working hard to drive the pain out of me and replace it with something else. Something carnal, and raw.

  Without asking it to, my hand dipped onto his shoulder. I finally exhaled when he didn’t flinch away from my touch. Shutting my eyes, I let my head rest against the pillow and felt myself drown under the weight of the moment.

  The heat of his hand against my ribs, the soft touch of the cloth against my stomach, the feel of his muscular shoulder under my fingertips… instantly, I forgot about the aviary, about Mareen, about the glass, and the birds, and the pain.

  I wasn’t aware he had removed the cloth from my stomach until I felt his lips press against my abdomen.

  I froze, my breath caught in my throat. The cool of the cloth, the warmth of the magic, the heat of his lips, such a rapid shift in sensations made me drop my other hand onto the bed and tightly grip the sheets, afraid I would float away.

  Deliberately, now, but with my eyes still closed, I let my hand trail up and along his shoulder until I reached his hair and the base of his neck. I pushed my fingertips against the back of his head, encouraging him to keep going. Don’t stop.

  Please.

  He didn’t stop.

  One kiss. Another kiss. I felt his hand on my ribs slowly inch a little higher, and a little higher. I bit my lower lip to try to keep from moaning, then I felt his other hand come down on my upper thigh and gently squeeze.

  I couldn’t.

  My lips parted, and the words spilled out. “More, belore.”

  The Prince paused, his lips on my stomach, one hand on my thigh, another half-way up the curve of my left breast. Taking a deep breath, he kissed my stomach again, and I arched my back, dragging the heels of my feet against the bed to get a better grip.

  I could feel his hunger, I could almost taste it myself—I’d been infected with it. His fingers found their way to the hem of the trousers I’d been sleeping in and hooked into them. Another moment or two and I had no idea where we would’ve ended up, but a loud knocking at the door to the bedroom made him perk up and release me.

  I fell back against the bed, my eyes springing wide open.

  The Prince was already on his feet, buttoning up his shirt and heading toward the door. When he opened it, Mira was standing there with a bundle of clothes in her hands. She bowed her head, showing reverence, then turned her eyes at me.

  “Your highness, I came as quickly as I could,” she said.

  “Yes, thank you,” Prince Cillian said, “I have done what I can for some of her more serious injuries, but she still needs tending.”

  “I will take care of her, if you would allow me to.”

  He nodded at her, then turned his eyes onto me. I met his gaze, breathless, wordless. I almost called out to him when he left, to try to get him to stay, but it wouldn’t have worked. Mira was already on her way over to me, a look of dreadful worry in her eyes—which was unusual enough for a winter fae.

  “You poor thing,” she said, falling to her knees by my side. “What in the world happened to you?”

  “I… genuinely don’t know how to answer that question right now,” I said.

  “Save your strength. Let me take care of the wounds first, then we’ll get you cleaned up and back into bed.” She picked up my hand and examined the butterfly tattoo on my skin. “What’s this?”

  I nodded. “It’s a long story with… a disappointing ending.”

  Chapter 13

  “I leave you alone for one evening, and the royal aviary comes down,” Mira said. “And yet, none of this surprises me, somehow.”

  “You’ve learned to expect the unexpected,” I said, looking across my shoulder. “I think it shows growth.”

  “Head straight. I’m not done with your back yet.”

  I was sitting shirtless on the edge of the bed the Prince had left me on. Mira, cross-legged behind me, was running the warm cloth with the healing magic down my back, working on the cuts and scrapes I’d sustained from the birds as they swooped down on me. Most of my injures were entirely gone, some others were reduced to painful bruises.

  What had once been a gash in my hand, for example, was now a sickly yellow and purple bruise. I could move my fingers; I could even close my hand and turn it into a fist, but doing so was painful. It was going to make gripping a sword, or a dagger, tricky business.

  “And your friend?” she asked, “The har—pixie?”

  I showed her the back of my left hand, and the butterfly tattoo on it. “Which brings me to this.”

  “That’s… her?”

  “Yep. We were separated in my room, but she found me later.”

  “After you destroyed the aviary?”

  “Yes. I mean, no, I didn’t destroy it. I couldn’t have.”

  “Well, did you leave any interesting parts of your story out?”

  Besides the part where the Prince almost just went down on me? My cheeks flushed at the memory. I was still… excited, and warm in all the right places. Only this time, there was no strange, uncomfortable aftertaste, no weird feeling like there had been on the balcony.

  “Not, uh… not that I can think of.”

  “Then, lacking any other explanation as to why the aviary came crashing down around you, it had to have been you.”

  “But… how?”

  “I don’t know. I must admit, I was asleep when this all happened, but I was awoken an instant or two before I heard the shattering of glass.”

  “You heard it all the way from the castle?”

  “The entire city heard it.” She paused, then sighed. “It was like music… easily among the most beautiful of sounds I’d ever heard. But more importantly, I felt something. Something strong enough to pull me out of a deep sleep.”

  “You felt what?”

  Mira placed a cool, soft hand on my shoulder. “Magic, Dahlia. I felt magic. Powerful, untamed magic.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not what I felt.”

  “What did you feel?”

  “I was scared. I was sitting in the dark, alone, hiding under a log with mad birds fighting with each other over who could cut me the hardest or make the deepest hole in my skin with their beaks.”

  Mira paused again, taking another deep breath, and exhaling. “Do you think it’s possible you’re not being completely honest with yourself?”

  I frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “What did you tell the Prince? Did you name your attackers? Because the last time—”

  “—I didn’t tell him anything.”

  “Mareen needs to be held accountable.”

  “And she will be, but if there’s one thing I know it’s that rich people always get what they want, and they seem to never have to pay for it. If I’d told the Prince, he would’ve gone down there and maybe given her a slap on the wrist, which would’ve only made her angrier, and more likely to do this again.”

  “How do you know she isn’t already plotting the next thing?”

  “I don’t, and she probably is. What I do know is that if I’m going to get any kind of revenge here, I’m going to have to see to it myself.”

  Mira paused. “Did you just suggest you might exact retribution on an enemy?”

  “I did.”

  “Now who’s growing?”

  “Don’t make a big deal out of it. And don’t offer to help. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “That’s not true. It seems I have a direct link to the little closet in your bedroom, so I could provide you with all manner of tools, should you need them.”

  “Really? You can just get me stuff?”

  “I must admit, when I presented to the Keeper of the competition the items I wanted sent to your closet, I was met with no resistance.”

  “Didn’t your training manual tell you to expect that?”

  “No. It appears some of the rules have changed since the competition began. I had in fact been meaning to talk to you about exactly that.”

  “Okay?”

  “First, stand. I’m done with your back. I want to check the rest of you.”

  “I think I can check myself when I go get washed up. Anyway, you got the worst of it. I can live with the rest.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I shrugged. “I honestly don’t think it’ll make a difference at this point. We can talk, then I’ll get cleaned up, and maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get a chance to take a nap before morning comes. I don’t suppose the trials have been postponed?”

  “I’m sorry. They haven’t.”

  “Do you know what tomorrow’s trial will be?”

  She sighed. “It will be a timed skill test. You’ll be given a chance to showcase the best of your abilities, but you will get to determine the parameters.”

  “So, I can sew a dress?”

  “Correct, which on the one hand is good because you are an excellent seamstress. But on the other hand…”

  “My hand hurts, and I’m going to be too tired to concentrate on what I’m doing.” I paused, thinking. “That’s what they wanted. They wanted me to be at a disadvantage tomorrow.”

  “Which means they know.”

  I frowned. “Know what?”

  Mira patted me on the back, encouraging me to stand up. I stood; my arms folded across my bare chest. She came up behind me, picked up the bundle of clothes and the towel she had brought in for me, and escorted me into the adjoining bathroom.

  Wanting to waste no time, Mira waved her hand over the tub, and it started to fill with steaming, warm water. As it filled, Mira picked out a couple of different liquids sitting in phials near the tub and poured them into the water, making fragrant bubbles start frothing up.

  “Listen very carefully,” she said.

  I turned to look at her, my arms still folded across my chest. “That sounds ominous.”

  “As it should be. There are a couple of things I need to tell you. About the competition. Things I’ve learned today.”

  “Did you speak to Lord Bailen?”

  “Briefly. The first thing you need to know is this; from now on, there will be no further elimination trials. After every trial, one contestant will be removed from the competition.”

  “Shit. So, tomorrow—”

  “—yes, if you perform poorly, your time here is up. After that… I don’t know what happens to you. Mareen must have already been told.”

  “I can’t let that happen.”

  “Of course, the best result would be for you to win, but for now I want you to focus only on not being eliminated.”

  I nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Good. The next thing I need to tell you is… it’s about the All Seers.”

  “What about them?”

  “Remember how I said they hadn’t been used in a long time?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, they were recently re-introduced… by order of the Prince.”

  My heart gave a loud thump inside of my chest that I could’ve sworn even Mira would’ve heard. “The Prince? I thought he couldn’t interfere with the competition.”

  “He can’t interfere with the judges’ decisions on who stays and who is made to leave. Theirs is the final word . But the Prince is, after all, searching for his ideal mate and wife. The winner of the Royal Selection will become his princess, and eventually, queen of Windhelm. While he cannot make decisions by himself, he can petition the judges to make changes to the selection’s challenges and rules, and often they listen.”

  “But the mirrors are dangerous. Why would he have asked the judges to use them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And then, eliminating all those other women in one go… did he also ask the judges to make that change?”

  “He did not tell them who they should or shouldn’t eliminate. Instead, he told them he needed a decision to be made far sooner than expected. The judges decided the rest.”