Hugo darts from under the bed with asqueak, and Lark scoops him up without missing a step toward Eevi’s crib, depositing the wriggly hedgehog into his pocket so he can reach for the toddler. “I thought I’d take the kids’ lessons outside today,” he says. “You’re welcome to join us. I bet you haven’t seen much of our forests out here.”
I haven’t, actually. He means because I’m supposed to hail from the seaside, not because I’ve been cooped up behind chamber walls within palace walls inside of city walls, but it remains true. My walled existence didn’t allow for much experience of the world outside. Even with guards and huntsmen to protect me, I can’t remember the last time I was free to roam and explore. My desperate journey through the woods to get here is a distant blur from a previous life.
Now, nothing sounds better than exploring nature with a gaggle of excited childlings for distraction. And as a buffer between Lark and me.
“I would love that,” I say sincerely. Lark’s returning smile is equally genuine. “Oh, and to answer your earlier question,Lark… Both. Of course, I find you interesting. You’re possibly the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”
Then I flee from the room…at a totally calm and measured pace.
Because I am a princess, and a princess does not flee.
Chapter 18
Lark
There are no sleighs or carts or shouting vendors in the forest, but it’s loud in a different way. For a place blanketed in ice and snow, it’s alive with animals moving about their days, birds twittering above us, the rhythmic paw falls of the fox following us, and the soft rooting of a pair of hirvi nearby.
I shift Eevi’s sling on my chest and check her hat hasn’t slipped. She’s fine, her little face relaxed in that innocent sleep that makes my heart squeeze.
Days like this are my favorite, all of us together. Snow crunches under nine pairs of boots. Hellion barrels by with the twins hot on her heels, a whirling dervish of shouts and flying scarves. Katja is already pointing out some frost-crusted herbs to Aili, who nods like she might be tested later. Which, to be fair, she might.
Mika plods quietly behind them, alert in his own shy way as he scans the surrounding trees. Beside me, Val crunches along with a rhythm I now recognize—sure, deliberate, but light-footed. It’sbecome easier and easier to think of her as Val, the Wilder girl at my side, than as the stuffy princess I once thought her to be. Each day, I see more of her kindness and her growing curiosity about the world beyond her palace.
It’s enlightening to see her ignorance to the ways of Wilder Fae. I assumed all Point Fae knew the way they trod on the rest of us to stay ahead, how they’re automatically elevated and offered advantages we’ll never be afforded. I figured the royal family especially, did it deliberately. But I can tell that, whatever version of the world the princess saw, it didn’t include the truths out here. Her incredulity at each new revelation makes it clear she’s been shaken, and I sense a brewing anger stirring with shame beneath her facade.
Then there’s her near-pathological need to please. If she was spoiled the way I expected, then where would that anxious desire come from? I’m torn between wanting to do something about it and wanting to put it to another, very specific, very selfish (and pleasurable) use.
I shake my head at the rogue thoughts, knowing I’ll never act on them. She’s a princess, and I’m a Wild One. She would never want that with me. Besides, today is about the kids. Dirty thoughts will have to wait. Or better yet, go away entirely.
Val’s steady pace stutters, and I turn to find she’s inadvertently lassoed a branch with her scarf. She mutters under her breath, her cheeks flushed pink with cold and clumsiness, and I have to look away before I get caught staring like a fool again. Or laughing. I can’t help that she’s somehow both sexy and adorable. When she catches me and gives me a look that’s half-smirk, half-suspicion, I hurriedly re-adjust the sling again before helping her unhook herself.
“Thank you.” She turns away first, and I force my feet to follow.
Bright sun reflects off glittering tree branches covered in hoarfrost. As soon as I spot what I’m looking for, relief floods my limbs. Finally, a distraction from this torture. “Let’s stop here. Time for some fieldwork.”
Aili crowds in and drops to her knees, gloves out like she expects to catch knowledge in her hands. The others circle the frosted log where I gently brush snow from reddish threads.
“Dragon’s Blood Moss,” I say, as the red-brown cushion beneath the snow comes into view. “Who remembers what it’s good for?”
Aili’s nose scrunches while Helkki bounces on her toes, chanting, “Oh, oh, um, um…”
Johannes answers. “For binding wounds. Dragon’s Blood Moss stops bleeding fast.”
“Correct, my new favorite,” I say, pointing to the sniffling boy. The rest of them shake their heads or roll their eyes at me. “We dry it to keep for emergencies.”
Katja nods. “Can we harvest this? We used the last of our stock when Joha cut his hand trying to joust with a soup ladle.”
“It washisidea!” Joha protests.
“And I won,” Juani yells from the back.
“Barely!”
“And just like that, I remember why Kat’s my favorite.” I laugh to end the debate. “Next up—Crystal Skeleton Flower.” I pull back a thin branch and reveal a cluster of papery white blooms tucked in the shade of a rock. “Looks ordinary now, but watch this.”
I lean down and blow gently, melting a dusting of snow with warm breath. The petals shift, gleam, and then—like magic—turn perfectly clear.
Gasps all around.
