Page 56 of Wings of Starlight

Clarion felt sick at the implication—at the thought of all the fairies she’d met at the mercy of monsters. “You believe the Nightmares caused the warden’s betrayal.”

“It’s possible, yes.” Elvina approached Clarion with slow, measured steps, then perched on the edge of her chaise longue. Now that they were at eye level again, the weight of her words felt suffocating, inescapable. “It is a shame. It means that the Warden of the Winter Woods can never be fully trusted.”

Clarion couldn’t believe it. Sherefusedto believe it. She dug her fingers into her knees, if only to keep herself from fleeing. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I did not want to overwhelm you with too much information at once, especially when you already seemed so concerned about the winter fairies.” Clarion felt those words like a slap. They were all but a confirmation of her worst fears: Elvina did not think her capable of handling the truth or her duty. Elvina leaned over and rested her hand on Clarion’s arm. Elvina’s skin felt feverishly hot, as though each of her fingers were a searing brand. “But now, you know everything that I do. And on the day of your coronation, you will fulfill the very last of our inherited duties: the Queen of Pixie Hollow must guard the warm seasons against the Nightmares’ influence.”

Clarion’s boldness, briefly suppressed beneath the weight of her old insecurities, flared viciously back to life. She could not listen to another word of this. “If that’s true, then we should help the Winter Woods, not cut them off!”

“We are in no position to help them.” Elvina’s tone brooked no argument. “It’s far too dangerous. We do not know how to combat them.”

“And so you’d force me to abandon the winter fairies to their fate?” Clarion’s voice trembled. “Shall I let the Nightmares destroy their homes? Pick them off one by one? This is not pragmatism, Elvina. This is monstrous. I will not do it.”

Elvina stared at her with open shock. When she recovered, Clarion was struck at how quickly she gathered her royal bearing around her like armor—how she could wear a simple robe like her full regalia. Her tone was frosty when she spoke again. “This is for the greater good. I know you have an interest in the fairies of the Winter Woods, but you must put them out of your mind. They have survived this long on their own, in the most brutal of conditions. They will endure this as well.”

But they shouldn’t have to.Clarion bit down on her tongue.

Taking her silence as acquiescence, Elvina sighed, as though trying to collect the fragments of her shattered patience. “You will understand in time, Clarion. Your kindness is an asset, but it is also a heavy burden to carry. You cannot hurt so much for others.”

“I will take that into account,” Clarion replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I feel suddenly ill.”

She did not wait for Elvina’s reply before fleeing her study. Once she made it to her room, she pulled the box Petra had sent her from where she’d hidden it beneath her bed. She untied the fastidiously knotted ribbon, then yanked off the lid. Inside was her coat: pristine and whole. Clarion could not help hugging it against her chest. She did not care how ridiculous she looked, kneeling on the floor with her face buried in the fur-lined hood. It wasn’t as if there were anyone here to witness it.

Once she’d breathed through the worst of her panic, she tried desperately to sort through the jumble of her thoughts. Whether or not what Elvina told her was true didn’t matter. All she knew was that Elvina had handed her a problem almost too overwhelming to shoulder.

She and Milori had only until the summer solstice to seal the Nightmares’ prison—or Elvina would doom the Winter Woods to an eternal isolation.

Every minute that Clarion waited at the border passed at a glacial crawl. She paced restlessly along the riverbank, the hem of her mended coat billowing behind her. As she watched the tree line, all she could envision were Nightmares unspooling from the shadows, a ravening, bilious black. Winter sealed away as if behind a wall of glass. The roots binding them together severed by her own hand. She could not stomach this vision of herself, the cold and remote queen who weighed lives like grain on a scale. A blade of starlight held above her head, smoking with her power. The magic of the Pixie Dust Tree, emptying into the river like blood from a mortal wound.

Monstrous,she’d told Elvina.

The dark churn of her thoughts only served to compound the dread of seeing Milori again. She’d spent so many hours reliving that kiss—and imagining what she might say to him when they met again. Such concerns felt terribly far away now. And yet, her anticipation built with every second that slipped away.

Thankfully, she did not have to suffer long. Milori was never late.

In fact, he was early.

The sun had not yet begun to set when he arrived. Snow swirled around him as he landed on the bridge between their realms with silent grace. Despite it all, her heart fluttered at the sight of him. She’d hardly realized how desperately she’d missed him until he was standing here before her. Clarion found herself torn between the impulse to armor herself with distance and to run headlong into his arms. The guarded look on his face and the rigidity of his shoulders, at least, made her choice easy. It wounded her, to see such plain confirmation of what she’d feared.

Nothing could exist between the two of them.

Clarion drew her coat tighter around herself as she stepped onto the bridge, sighing at the feeling of magic humming beneath her feet. Words evaporated as she stared up at him. As always, his stark beauty was like a blade of ice to the heart. Frost glimmered on his pale eyelashes, which were drawn low over his gray eyes. He was avoiding her gaze.

“Clarion.” He spoke her name with such careful formality, it was as though he’d called herYour Highness.It prickled her all over with its chill.

“Milori.”

The uneasy silence stretched thin between them. When she could bear it no longer, she blurted out, “There’s something you should know,” at the same time he said, “I wanted to—”

Their eyes locked, and heat bloomed across her face. His lips were still softly parted, whatever confession he’d been prepared to make hanging in suspension. A look of singular vulnerability passed over his expression, Clarion could not help wondering if she’d been mistaken. Hope welled up within her—but no, she could not allow herself to read anything into it. It was only that their halting exchange had flustered them both.

After a moment, he shook his head and said, “Please. You first.”

Clarion drew in a breath to compose herself. Now that he’d ceded the initiative to her, she felt more clearheaded. Where to begin? Somehow, the dangers Elvina’s plan posed to the Winter Woods felt like safer skies to navigate than her feelings. “I spoke with Elvina earlier.”

Clearly, that was not what he had expected her to say. Milori blinked, disoriented, as if rousing himself from a troubling dream. Some of his nervous energy fizzled out, but she could see him wrestling with the desire to ask for more details. Ever patient, he replied, “I see.”

Even in Spring, she felt impossibly cold at the memory of what she and Elvina had discussed. She crossed her arms over her chest to ward off a shiver. “She told me that the first Warden of the Winter Woods attempted to overthrow the Queen of Pixie Hollow. In her mind, that is the reason our two realms have nothing to do with each other anymore. Worse, she believes the Nightmares held some sort of power over him. That it might be possible for it to happen again, and…”