Chapter One
ThefirstthingFlorianwasawareofwashowheavyhisheadwas,soheavyonhisshouldersthathisneckmightsnap.Hewincedundertheweight,startingtoreachuptofeelwhatwasbearingdownsohardonhim—andthen,asifaswitchturnedoninhisbrain,hewasawareofeverythingelse.Hishandwasstillinmidairhalfwaytohishead,theotherpushingafoldedshirtintohisbackpack.
Florian blinked, frozen in place. Where was he? His heart was hammering, so loud in his ears that the sound drowned out everything else. He glanced around, afraid that somehow he was dreaming and that he would still have to do everything again—his father’s funeral, his own coronation, all of it.
He was in the guest room. Somehow, he knew his father’s room hadn’t been fully cleared out yet. A single Golden Arrow was displayed on his writing desk, next to the silver crown carefully set on a display box. This crown was for his “everyday” use, according to his aunt Tatiana–as if he would wear a crown every day. He had only ever seen his father in a crown once.
But if he had the crown, he must have already finished the coronation ceremony. Right? It was as if he had blinked, and somehow been thrust through time.
Looking at the crown brought a hazy memory back—the crown was what had been so heavy on his head. The longer he looked at it the more he could recall, as if it had been a dream and he had only just awoken.
He remembered sweating from nerves more than anything else—although the thick, formal clothes that had been hastily tailored, and the long cape that draped from his shoulders down to the stone floor at his feet, certainly didn’t help. He was kneeling, Tatiana standing above him with her hands hovering over the heavy ceremonial crown on his head, as she spoke some ceremonial words that he couldn’t hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears. It had been pounding even harder then than it was now.
But he did hear the silence when she stopped speaking; and when he glanced up at her, she nodded and gave him a tiny, encouraging smile.
He remembered standing to face the crowd that had gathered in attendance. His vision was swimming, and none of their faces registered as he looked over them all. He was saying something, too, something he had rehearsed over and over again with Tatiana—he hoped that he was saying it right.
The only face in the crowd he could make out was Kade, front and center, dressed handsomely in a dark navy tunic with silver embroidery along its high collar. He remembered how his eyes kept returning to the flash of silver thread as he looked out toward them, seeing nothing.
He remembered bells ringing in the distance. No, not the distance—they were just overhead, though his memory of them was muted. Or it was the pounding of his heart drowning them out. Tatiana was next to him again, a hand on his back. He knew she was whispering in his ear that it was done now and there would be a feast, but he would have a few minutes to himself first. He remembered following her out of the courtyard amidst the calls and cheers of the crowd. He had never felt more like a child.
But that was all. It felt as though it had been months since that moment, distant as his memory was, but that couldn’t possibly be true. What had happened? Why couldn’t he remember anything else? How long ago had it truly been?
“You okay?”
Kade’s voice made him jump as he stifled a frightened gasp.
“S-Sorry,” Florian stammered, whirling around to see the taller man standing in the doorway of his bathroom, his toiletry bag in hand. Kade’s eyebrows were raised, taken aback at his surprise. “I, uh. I forgot you were there.”
Slowly Kade nodded and stepped into the room, coming to stand alongside him as he set the bag next to his backpack.
“Are you alright?” he asked again, gingerly touching his forehead with the back of his hand, as if he were feverish. “You’ve been… quiet today.”
“Yeah,” Florian said, though he still glanced around nervously. “Um, remind me, what day is it? When are we leaving?”
Kade blinked, his eyes searching, but Florian only looked up at him with an anxious grin. Fearful as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Kade he had no idea what was going on. Why couldn’t he remember?
“Tomorrow,” he finally said, his voice soft now. “That’s why I’m helping you pack.”
Relief flooded through him as he looked away, nodding. He had gotten through it all. Kade wouldn’t lie to him, so it hadn’t been a dream. Some small part of him worried at the thought of having somehow lost a week’s worth of memories, but the rest of him was too glad to be done with it to care.
“Okay,” he said, nodding, but his voice must have been shaking more than he thought, because Kade’s concerned eyes still lingered on him.
“Do you want to take a break?” he asked, and quickly Florian nodded.
“Um, yeah,” he said. “Is it lunchtime?”
Slowly Kade’s worried look faded into a small smile, seemingly assuaged that Florian’s jumpiness was only nerves.
“Sure,” he said, and together they walked out of the room.
He had survived it. He had dreaded every second leading up to it; but now it was over, a memory that felt like a decade ago, rather than a few days. Maybe it was better that he couldn’t remember. Everything to come had to be easier than the past few weeks had been.
“God, I’m so ready to go home.”
The words came out as a tired groan, as Florian and Kade trudged across the narrow beach and into the dark water outside the Winter Court. Under their feet, the magical stone path that would lead them to the curtain between the Veil and the Earth rose up from beneath the water. Most of his belongings were crammed into his backpack; and Kade was carrying a heavy backpack across his shoulders as well, since they did not plan on returning to the Winter Court for some time.
“Home, huh?” Kade replied, a hint of a teasing grin at the corner of his lips as he turned to look back at Florian. It was becoming easier to recognize his facial expressions now, the slight crinkle in the corners of his eyes as he smiled, or the minute shifts of his eyebrows. They had been largely inseparable since they had returned to the Winter Court from their first, disastrous excursion into the Blight; and for the most part Florian had been grateful for the distraction that his presence had brought.
