Page 60 of The Prince and the Ice King

“But… the king did freeze her,” Reardon said, confused, as the implication was that she had betrayed them while they were flesh and blood.

“She planned her theft for early morning, just before the sun rose, but she should have given herself more time. Before she reached the gate, the sun was up, and Jack caught her. Before then, she still got to one of us.” Slowly, Josie pulled aside the edge of her robe to reveal a scar beneath her collarbone.

“The king said she killed an elf.” Reardon scrunched his brow in further strain. “Someone with beautiful magic.”

“It was beautiful,” Josie said softly. “The most powerful healing magic of anyone here. The thief got to me first, knowing my chambers held the most gold. I gave chase, even with my injury, and he saw us in the halls. He tried to stop her, but she was too swift.

“I was already weak, but I struggled to help him, and sweet thing that he was, he still tried to heal me, even as I was trying to stophisbleeding, flowing so much more freely than my own. I… I was still touching him when the sun came up….” Her delicate hands clenched into fists, and Reardon didn’t have to ask what her touch had done.

Barclay slipped an arm around her waist, and she leaned gratefully against him.

“I understand why Jack wanted to wait with you, Reardon,” Josie said, “as we have with everyone else since then, but I also don’t want to let the past haunt me. None of us do.”

As Barclay held her, the others all vigilantly silent, Reardon recognized why the princess had only found love so recently, despite two hundred years having passed. It was too difficult for her after causing someone such awful harm. Though Reardon also believed she had needed to wait for the right person.

He had not seen any statues made of gold in the king’s ice garden, but now he wondered what had become of the… accidents.

“I swear to you that I am not your enemy,” Reardon said. “I never will be. I don’t only want to understand your curse and change my kingdom. I want to break the curse and save everyone.”

“And you think loving Jack will do that?” Branwen asked skeptically.

“Could have skipped the interrupting-us part,” Liam muttered, and Shayla smacked his chest.

“I don’t even know his real face, yet I feel….” Reardon stroked the cover of the book, holding it out in front of him to look at the carved leather. “I know the days have been few, but as each one passes, I find myself more amazed by him. With our audiences, I always want them to last longer.”

“You love the king while he looks likethat?” Zephyr sneered.

Reardon couldn’t truly say he loved the king, but the draw he’d felt for only a scant few, it was the same for Jack as for anyone he’d ever lusted after. “If not yet, then I think I could. I need to see this through, to know his feelings in return. To truly know mine. Only then can I be certain if it’s enough to break the curse.”

“What do you intend to do now?” Josie asked.

“I intend to see him. Would any of you stop me?” Reardon hugged the book once more.

There was a shift of glances between them all.

“That’s the book the king had me scouring for in the library,” Zephyr said.

“Yes, and place on my bed.”

“I didn’t place it on your bed.”

Reardon’s eyes snapped up from looking at the cover again.

“The sun was already setting,” Zephyr explained. “He ordered me out of the library after I found it. If it ended up on your bed, Emerald Prince, then he’s the one who put it there.”

The resolve in Reardon strengthened, knowing the king had been in his room, risking getting caught after nightfall.

“You are a wily one,” Liam said, trying to pull Shayla against him like the others, which she allowed after a weak show at struggling. “You might even be right.”

“He meansmad,” Zephyr said, and then when Nigel elbowed him, added, “but we’re certainly not going to stop you.”

Branwen and Caitlin were different—quiet, stubborn creatures, maybe only commiserating, though Reardon did wonder what the master of arms had Caitlin writing for him. Still, they were hopeful sentries, with Caitlin rising from the desk to stand beside Branwen, both offering encouraging nods.

Lastly, Reardon looked to Josie and Barclay, his first friend among the court and his oldest friend of all. Whatever Barclay saw when he touched Josie, it filled his face with peace and fondness that Reardon hoped to one day know for himself.

“Wish me luck,” Reardon said and turned, one last time, for the tunnels.

Jack

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