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He doesn’t wear armor but a fine tunic of moss green embroidered with silver thread, with dark gray pants and boots of supple brown leather.

“Don’t you look handsome,” I say as I walk toward him.

He shrugs. “The collar’s too tight. And the pants are itchy.”

I clasp his shoulder. “I’d like to make you some new armor. We could go to Draconforge in a few days. Work on it together. I have an idea for your helm⁠—”

Kairyn pulls away from me. “No, thank you. I’m not sure I’ll ever don a helm again.”

“You are still a prince of Spring, Kai. I would see our family rule in the Hall of Vernalion once more.”

“I know you would.” Kairyn closes his eyes. “There’s no way to explain it to you, Ez. But it’s not gone. I feel it…under my skin, lurking.”

“It?”

When Kairyn’s eyes open, I swear they flicker red. “That monster they made me. It’s as if my horns could erupt from my skull at any moment.”

“It will take time for things to…” Return to normal? There’s never been a normal for Kairyn and me. “For us to forge our new paths. Be kind to yourself, little brother.”

He gives another shrug but stays quiet.

“Jack was bothering me again,” I say, sensing his unease and opting to change the subject. “Have you thought about traveling to Airaleth, just to visit?”

Kairyn looks up as if he could see through the branches of cherry blossom that blanket the ceiling and all the way to the floating isles above. “That’s not my world. They’re not my people. They don’t know what they’re asking of me. Who they’re asking to lead them.”

“Personally, I’d like for you to stay here in Castletree. There’s plenty of room and work to be done.”

“I’ll think about it.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze. He offers me one of those rare smiles once more. Then Kairyn looks past me, and his eyes widen. I look behind me.

Wrenley’s standing in the doorway, her body stiff, mouth a thin line.

“Oh. Excuse me.” I allow a smirk beneath the helm.

Rosalina, Marigold, and I have been whispering for days, trying to figure out what’s going on between the two of them. It seems like Wrenley’s done everything in her power to avoid being in the same room as him, yet Marigold swears she saw Wrenley sneaking through the Spring wing the night after Castletree was restored.

I walk through the doorway. “Princess,” I say as I pass her.

She sneers up at me. Charming as always.

But my gaze lingers on her before I leave. Strange. It’s Rosalina’s coronation day, and Wrenley’s wearing well-worn traveling clothes. Her cloak is caked in dry mud, and her boots have seen many miles. Out in the hall, I noticed a large, stuffed pack.

I slip outside, and as soon as I do, Wrenley closes the door. But the latch doesn’t fully click, and a crack remains.

I should go.

But the pack in the hall makes me hesitate. Pressing myself against the wall, I tilt my head toward the crack, peering in. Marigold has been a horrible influence on me.

“Are you, uh, wearing that to the coronation?” Kairyn says, his voice filled with boyish awkwardness.

“After my sister’s coronation, I’m leaving.”

There’s a strained beat of silence. Wrenley’s words were clipped and harsh and to the point. My heart sinks into my stomach.

“Where?” Kairyn says the word so weakly, it’s barely a question.

“I don’t know.”