Page 22

But I’ve long been familiar with this monster. And one by one, I watched the others get comfortable with it too.

Ezryn invited it in, then began repairing the house. Dayton made it tea, then cooked a stack of pancakes for breakfast. Farron listened to its stories, then sang us songs with George’s old instrument.

And Kel…well, Kel has been familiar with this particular monster for ages. In fact, I think we shared the same one. Wherever he goes during the day, I’m sure he lets the monster sit with him.

Grief. Sorrow. Despair. For all those who George touched, for everyone who called Castletree home, our hearts will never be the same.

But as I look at Rosalina, her eyes on the lake’s horizon, I know one thing.

Her heart has not broken. It will keep beating, as must all of ours.

“This lake,” I begin. “Is it the one you nearly drowned in?”

She nods. “Lucas pulled me out. If only I could’ve seen in that moment what would become of him. Of both of us.”

“Villains are often the heroes of their own stories, aren’t they?”

“Or forced into the role by others.” Rosalina’s eyes are wide and shining. She hasn’t blinked in almost a minute. “I think about them often. The creatures Sira’s possessed. They’re evil, aren’t they? All those gargoyles and goblins. One killed Papa. But what about Heidigog?” A single tear runs down her cheek. “She wasn’t evil. She just wanted to live a life without fear.”

The image of Rosalina’s goblin friend, the one I’d chosen to be her lady-in-waiting in Cryptgarden, flashes into my mind. Like many of the servants of the Below, she’d been as imprisoned in Sira’s service as I had. As Rosalina during her thralldom. As Wrenley, bound by her bargain.

“I’ve had several friends who were goblins. Many died during Winter’s raid on Cryptgarden, years ago,” I say.

She laces her fingers through mine. “I never knew.”

“I suppose the goblins and I had that in common. When you’re viewed as the villain for so long, you become one.”

“I wish the people of the Vale could learn of everything you did for them.” She twists to hold my gaze.

Even after everything, I am struck by her beauty, by the earnest desire in her expression. Everything I did, I did for you, I think. Because it’s the truth, even if I didn’t know it at the time. Even if I didn’t know her. Somewhere, deep in the roots of myself, I believed a person like her existed and they deserved a beautiful world.

“I don’t care what the people of the Vale think about me,” I murmur. “I only want you to be happy.”

Rosie’s gaze turns inward, words merely a breath. “I think I finally understand Sira. She’s spent centuries wanting to go home. But her home doesn’t exist anymore. That ache... It will change you.”

“It’s how you let it change you that matters.”

She grabs both my hands, clasping them as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear. Tears spill from her eyes and run down her cheeks. “That’s just it, Cas. What will this pain do to me? I don’t know how to be anymore. Who am I? What am I? I don’t even feel like a person. I’m like a winged seed, being tossed around in the wind, never able to find the earth⁠—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” I wrap my arms around her and tug her into my chest, holding her as tight as I can. When her shaking stops, I put my hands on her cheeks and pull back to look at her. To hold that brave and terrified stare with my own. “You don’t have to know any of that right now, Rosalina.” Gently, I take her hand and hold it up with mine. “Do you feel that?” I whisper. “The winds are changing.”

“The winds are changing,” she whispers back.

“We’ll let them take us where they will.” I lay a kiss upon her temple. “And then we’ll grow where we’re planted.”

She closes her eyes and tilts her head, my kisses drifting lower, to her cheekbone, her jaw, and finally her lips. “Will you be there? Wherever we are?”

“This world or the next, Princess.”

5

Rosalina

Caspian’s kisses are soft as rain. One on the bow of my top lip, one on the corner of my mouth. I don’t kiss him back. Instead, I close my eyes and let his tender caresses wash over me. With each press of his lips, a spark lights inside me. Candles that flickered out months ago, their wicks bent and wax hardened. With each whisper of a kiss, a fire grows.

I blink my eyes open, pulling away enough to look at him. It feels like ages since I’ve taken the time to really see him. His hair has grown long and straight, brushing the tops of his shoulders. The points of his ears are barely visible through the long strands. For the first time since I’ve met him, a layer of scruff covers his angled jaw and top lip, making him appear older.

His skin, usually pale as the moon, has taken on a bronzed tan. I wonder if this is the most sun he’s gotten…ever. All his time in the Vale, he always had to retreat down Below before the rot became too much. But now he’s spent nearly every day sitting outside. Our mate bond, his proximity to me, has allowed him to live on the surface without the rot spreading.