Page 11 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

Death magic was the mark of evil.

What did that make me?

There’d been no time to ask before Sonoma and I had split ways. She’d gone deeper into the forest to hunt for any more of them while I’d raced here to greet the prince.

My future husband.

Who was currently about to walk through the front entrance, I realized as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

No, scratch that.

His entourage came first.

I noted the half-dozen footmen and even more Autumn soldiers who hurried into the grand foyer ahead of him before my mother’s tongue clicked with judgment. Bracing myself, I glanced at her. She glared at my dress and then my hair, her disapproval a darkening storm cloud in her normally bright green eyes.

“What have you done with your hair?” she whispered in horror as she grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “And you were supposed to wear the new dress I sent up.”

“Too many laces. There was no time. Sonoma and I had an … encounter,” I said quietly, though my words drew my father’s sharp stare.

“What kind of encounter?” he asked.

“She asked that she be the one to tell you,” I said just as the trumpet sounded again—this time so close that I flinched at its sudden harsh notes.

A signal that the prince himself was crossing the threshold.

The trumpet call was an outdated tradition and a little ostentatious in my book, but apparently Callan had requested the full extent of royal formality.

My mother adjusted her grip, holding my arm with a lighter touch, one meant to offer affection—and I was grateful for it. But even with her silent reassurance, my heart lurched as I looked at our guest.

Prince Callan, heir to the Autumn Court throne.

His chestnut hair hung just long enough to brush his forehead and cover the tips of his pointed ears. His russet jacket lined with gold buttons shone in the sunlight that framed him in the doorway. As if even nature herself had been consulted in the planning and perfecting of such a moment. But it wasn’t his impeccable clothing or immaculately styled hair that caught my attention. It was those golden, gleaming eyes.

With one swift glance, his sharp eyes took the measure of every fae in this room, including the king and queen—and me.

I fought the urge to squirm.

He was handsome with his tousled brown hair that shone like auburn in the light. But his eyes glimmered with something that felt too pointed to be genuine warmth. And his smile—a charming curve of lips—was just the right amount of friendly and just the right amount of controlled. He wielded that smile like a weapon; I knew that instinctively.

He strode into the room with ease, his presence commanding the attention of everyone as though he’d been born for this sort of thing—because he had. The only son of widowed King Duron, Callan Ashfall had built a reputation as the ruthless and unyielding commander of Grey Oak’s vast armies. Armies that Sevanwinds desperately needed if we were going to escape the Winter Court’s fate.

My thoughts drifted to my encounter from earlier, and I shuddered.

Callan’s gaze marked it as he drifted closer to where I stood.

“Prince Callan,” my father greeted. “Welcome to Sevanwinds.”

“Your Majesties.” His voice had a rich, smooth timbre that could’ve been mistaken for sincerity if I hadn’t already been on edge. Instead, it reeked of false tribute. “King Tyrion and Queen Celeste, your hospitality is appreciated.” He boweddeeply, perfectly, before straightening to face me. His golden eyes locked onto mine, assessing me with a mixture of intrigue and calculation. “And you must be the beautiful Princess Aurelia. I’ve heard so much about you, but none of it did justice to your loveliness.”

Even if I hadn’t heard the rumors of his many conquests, his flattery wouldn’t have found its mark.

“Prince Callan,” I said. “Your reputation precedes you as well. Welcome.” I offered a quick dip of my chin that was almost insulting when paired with my backhanded words.

But his smile never faltered.

His gaze lingered, and I fought the urge to shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “I hope I don’t disappoint.” He winked, startling me, then turned away as my cheeks flushed with surprise.

“And Queen Celeste, you are a vision of summer’s beauty.” Callan took her hand and brought it to his lips.

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