Page 42 of Court of Winter
“Because if I wanted you dead or hurt or maimed or whatever else your imagination has come up with, it would have happened already.”
“Or perhaps it’s still coming, and it won’t happen until the capital.”
“Why would I fly you all the way across the continent simply to postpone harming you until we reached the capital?”
“I don’t know. Why would you?”
He frowned again as a look of discontent washed over his features. “You truly think I’m going to hurt you.”
“I truly think you’re going to do something to me that will either hurt me or make me wish I’d never met you.”
His frown deepened. “Very well, then forget I asked about why seeing the capital made you sad.”
“I’ve already forgotten, my prince.”
* * *
We didn’t speakthe rest of the flight, and I was glad for it. Now that the prince had relinquished whatever sudden curiosity had overcome him, he’d returned to gliding normally with no further threats of dropping me.
And since I was determined to look anywhere but at him, I soaked up as much as I could from our bird’s-eye view of the capital.
The closer we got, the more I was able to see that Solisarium was nestled in a broad valley surrounded by hills that rose in gentle snowy mounds and that buildings and homes covered every inch of them.
The entire city was a hodgepodge of streets. Some were parallel and perpendicular. Others were curved and looping around. It was as though the city had been built haphazardly, and I realized that since it had grown so much over the centuries, that it likely had been.
The outer rim seemed more structured, but the inner portion was a winding maze of streets and alleys that would be very easy to get turned around in for someone who wasn’t able to fly above everything.
Snowy rooftops covered every building and home, but snow was less common on the steeper, ice-coated roofs. I marveled that none of the central city’s buildings rose higher than five stories, making the castle at the heart of the capital’s inner district that much more commanding and breathtaking.
My throat bobbed in awe as I beheld it. Even from a distance, its towers, huge turrets, and steeply peaked roofs screamed of wealth and decadence. A solid, thick wall surrounded the entire castle, and its exterior held glistening spears of decorative ice. A shimmering dome of sparkling magic as fine as dusted snow covered the entire expanse. I could only presume that dome was a protection ward that didn’t allow anyone in who wasn’t invited.
I tried to soak everything in, tried not to let one detail escape me, but it was hard as the congestion grew. Fairies flew everywhere, making it difficult to see, and the closer we traveled toward Solisarium’s center, the more fae appeared in the skies.
Hundreds of fae flew at different heights and speeds. Some flew leisurely, obviously not in a hurry to get anywhere as they traveled just over the rooflines. Others flew as fast as their flapping wings could carry them as they climbed high into the sky, probably hoping to avoid the busier altitudes below. Some carried bags. Many carried children. But regardless of where I looked, fairies were everywhere.
“So many fae,” I whispered, not even realizing I’d said it aloud until the prince responded.
“Over a million call Solisarium home.”
He’d continued to look irritated in the few times I’d caught glimpses of him, but his tone didn’t sound angry when he replied. I kept any further comments to myself, though, and returned to gazing at the capital and the castle ahead.
It wasn’t until we were almost at the castle’s boundary that I realized in the entire time the prince had been flying, he’d done so in a straight line. He’d never had to climb or dive or sweep out of the way to avoid the congested areas of flying citizens.
Everyone moved to the side for him.
My lips parted when I realized that. The prince’s giant, talon-tipped wings continued to flap while his gaze stayed trained straight ahead. Even though some fae stopped to hover and watch us, he didn’t greet anyone or show any signs of acknowledgment, and it wasn’t lost on me that more than a few made the sign of the Blessed Mother, as though hoping our land would protect them from any evil left in his wake.
And for the very first time, it struck me how incredibly hated the prince must feel. Everyone feared the Death Master, and fear often morphed into anger, revulsion, and then hate. Hatred was easier to feel than fear—I would know.
“Is something wrong?” the prince asked, not even slowing as we approached the outer ward of the castle’s protective barrier. Magic pulsed over my skin, even from a distance, as though warning any flying fae not to come near unless they wanted to experience the castle’s wrath.
“No, everything’s fine,” I said, doing my best to ignore his probing stare.
But as much as I tried to ignore the pang of curiosity that had filled me about the life the prince must have led, I couldn’t suppress it completely.
It seemed Prince Norivun wasn’t the only one who felt intrigued by the other.
CHAPTER11