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I didn’t know what they were talking about but recognized Roar’s uncomfortable shifting from foot to foot. I slipped my hand into his.

The satyr noticed and his eyes softened. “The Drassil might spruce up just by seeing your beauty, m’lady.”

Roar gave a defeated sigh. “Fine. Can you lead the way?”

The satyr nodded vehemently. “I’ll take you right to it, I will!” He bustled down the street.

Once we’d put a few paces between us, I leaned close to Roar. “What’s all this about?”

“The Drassil trees are sacred in the kingdom. Most of the cities where the Sacred Eight reside have them, even Guldtown.”

“Oh,” I said. I hadn’t seen the tree, but then there was much of Guldtown that I hadn’t seen.

“It’s said that parts of the souls of our ancestors, the Faetia, reside in the trees and that they’re all connected,” Roar continued. “They also interact with the winter magic.”

We followed the satyr, and for the first time, I realized that many fae trailed along with us and our guard. Had they been there the whole time? I’d been so lost in thought that I had not noticed.

I had little time to wonder, though, because we rounded the corner and the Drassil came into view, stealing my every thought.

The Drassil was unlike any tree I’d ever seen, with its glimmering bark and purple leaves, or what remained of them, anyway.

“Stunning,” I breathed when we reached the tree, which stood alone in the center of the snowy town square. Word must have spread that Warden Roar headed that way because fae had already congregated here too.

I squinted taking in the tree more closely, watching the leaves sway and flutter, though at that moment there was no wind. “The leaves almost seem to dance.”

“It’s the magic,” Roar said. “But he’s right, this one is dying. There are so few leaves now. A blessing takes some of my own power and puts it in the tree. It might extend its life for a while, which we all need.”

If I had to guess, I’d say that the tree had lost half its leaves. In its full glory, it must have been remarkable.

“M’lord, if you please?” the satyr prompted, hope brimming in his eyes.

For a moment, Roar appeared stuck, but then he approached the tree. I hung back, basking in the magic rolling off the tree. It might be bad off, but the power seemed undeniable, vibrating me to my core. It made me more reverent. As everyone around me bowed their heads, I realized I wasn’t the only one.

I dipped my chin too but kept Roar in sight. Once he reached the tree, he placed both hands on it and closed his eyes.

The air around the tree glittered, making my heart thump harder. Though I could see Roar speaking, I stood too far away to hear his words. All the while, magic circled the air around the tree, glittering on the bark and making the purple leaves dance on a phantom wind.

Murmurs arose from the onlookers. Though most kept their heads down, a few, like me, were peeking. In the center of it all stood Roar, performing magic to help the kingdom.

The ritual ended as abruptly as it began. The moment Roar removed his hands from the trunk, the magic disappeared. I exhaled as the air stilled and returned to normal.

He walked back to me, eyes downcast and tension in his shoulders. Only when he stood right in front of me did he look up, and I swallowed. Tears filled his eyes.

“Did it hurt?” I took his hand in a now familiar gesture.

“It’s tiring but it didn’t physically hurt. Knowing that the realm is in danger hurts, though.” He squeezed my hand.

I swallowed and cast a glance at the tree. The leaves no longer danced, but they looked more enlivened. Inviting. My fingers itched to grace the bark. “Can I touch it?”

Roar blinked at me. “What?”

“The Drassil, I’d like to touch it. Is it against the rules?”

Roar shook his head. “The tree is for all. Go on.”

I approached the tree with reverence. All the other fae had dispersed, and I was glad for it. I didn’t want a bunch of onlookers.

That feeling only intensified when I stood before the majestic tree and tilted my head to look up. From this vantage, it didn’t seem so barren of leaves. I placed my hand on the bark.

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