Page 16 of Court of Winter

The female’s eyes widened when she beheld me. She took in my worn clothing and wingless back, gawking more and more as I stood there.

I resisted the urge to fidget, because the female wore the same expression everyone did when they saw an adult Solis fairy without wings. But at least my hair was concealed. Silver linings. I almost snorted when that pun struck me.

“Like I said, she’s my guest,” the prince said tightly. “I expect her to be treated as such.”

The female immediately dropped her stare. “Right, I’ll—” She dipped in a curtsy. “Of course, my prince.”

She hurried from the room to the back stairs leading to a second floor, which I assumed was where the lodging rooms waited, as an enchanted tray floated past us. Laden with drinks, it glided across the room to a table of three males. From there, the drinks floated off the serving tray, coming to rest in front of each patron.

Now that the surprise of the prince’s arrival was wearing off, more and more looked in my direction. Whispers erupted, and comments drifted toward me.

“No wings? How peculiar.”

“Were they shaved, do you suppose?”

The prince stepped in front of me, shielding me from their obnoxious curiosity. “Hungry?”

His question had my attention snapping away from the curious onlookers as Milis reappeared, hurrying from the stairs to our side.

“I suppose, my prince.” I didn’t add anything further. I was always hungry, even though at the moment I doubted I could eat.

“Your rooms are being readied. Would you like refreshments while you wait?” Milis asked, her smile overly bright.

When the prince inclined his head, she nodded toward the table nearest the fire and gave the couple sitting at it a sharp look.

Both hastily stood, their chairs squeaking against the floor when they pushed them back in a flourish. The prince didn’t so much as utter athank youwhen they moved to the empty corner booth far away from the fire and its heat.

My lips thinned as Prince Norivun settled onto the chair, the wooden seat protesting under his heavy weight as his wings settled into the divots created to accommodate them. I pulled out the chair across from him, looking anywhere but at his handsome face as an enchanted tray floated to us.

Two large bowls of stew glided off the tray to our place settings, along with mugs of ale and plates of heavily buttered bread. The portions were generous, easily four times the size of Krisil’s ladle. It all smelled delicious as scents of herbed meat wafted up to greet me, but my stomach protested despite its hollow hole as another terrible thought struck me. Perhaps this would be the first meal of many I would have without my sister.

The prince was on his third bite before he nodded toward my bowl. “You need to eat.”

I met his gaze, unblinking. His beauty struck me again. Sitting as he was, his sheer size dominated the room, yet he held himself with ease, his large bulk moving fluidly—gracefully even. I skimmed over his symmetrical features, deep-set eyes, and strong nose. His masculinity was the kind spoken of in sonnets and sung in melodies that seduced a female with only a few syllables. He was utter perfection, a living sculpture. It only riled me further. Such unparalleled beauty wasn’t fair in a male such as him.

“Is that a command, my prince?”

His eyes narrowed before he leaned forward in his chair. “Your life as you knew it is over. I suggest you adjust to that and stop sulking.”

“Sulking?”

“Yes, sulking.”

“And have you ever been taken from your home, your family, by the fairy who...”

His eyebrow arched, a perfect wing of silver. “The fairy who what?”

His expression remained guileless, truly unburdened. He honestly didn’t know what he’d done to me, to Cailis, to our lives.

Righteous anger burned inside me, which was much more preferable to the fear I’d previously felt, but I pinched my lips closed.

“The fairy who what?” he repeated.

“Nothing, my prince. I’m quite tired. I apologize.” My heart beat painfully hard as I took a deep breath.

What he’d done to me, he’d probably done to countless other families, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that he didn’t know of my family’s fate. He not only hadn’t asked my name, but he’d also probably lost count of his atrocities. He was the Death Master of the continent after all.

I fiddled with the napkin by my plate as he took another bite of stew. “When will I learn why you took me, my prince?”