Page 73 of The Prince and the Ice King

“He didn’t make it two weeks, Jack. He knew the truth before he was even presented to you that first day.”

“Helied—”

“He didn’t want to anger you! He came to my room that very night to confess, that’s why I was the first to learn of his visions, and I agreed to keep his secret until the two weeks were up to avoid any rash judgments from you.”

“You fooled me—”

“Because Barclay saw that it would keep the peace, and he was right. The fact that he turned out to be lovely company as well happened to benefit me.”

Fools, Jack thought again and huffed. Love had clearly warped all his court’s minds! “The prince admitted to me that Barclay is not certain of what he saw in this vision of love. It’s a riddle. A guess! There is no reason to believe it has anything to do with me.”

“Don’t believe it, then. Maybe it isn’t about you. Or maybe, even if it is, it doesn’t mean our curse can be broken. Butplease—” Josie floated the smallest bit closer. “—if we’re stuck with this curse forever, then at least find some happiness for yourself like the rest of us. It took me two hundred years to find my love. Don’t wait all of eternity to find yours.”

She left, floating elegantly away from him.

Jack was still angry, at Reardon, ateveryone, but the bitter knots forming in his stomach made him loathe the idea of following the prince anymore today. It would only tempt him to chase fairy tales himself—like the unattainable ending to his poem.

Reardon

Reardon spent much of the afternoon with Nigel in the music room, though neither felt their work was close to completion after only one day. Reardon wanted his tune to be perfect, and Nigel wanted his epic to be unmatchable as well. They’d continue to help one another until both pieces were just right.

Before dinner, Reardon and Shayla went out to forage for several specific items to begin testing. After learning Caitlin’s story, Reardon hadn’t been certain he wanted to go down this route. His father had givenso much of himself trying to discover the truth of what really happened to Queen Reagan. Reardon didn’t want to lose himself to it too, but as the days passed since hearing what had really happened, he hadn’t been able to shake the dream that he could finally put all this to rest for everyone.

He and Shayla were late getting back for dinner, the sun setting before they had finished eating. Reardon was hurrying his dinner to more swiftly join the king, even if he thought he might discover a locked door when he finally arrived.

“What’s the rush?” Barclay asked. “I thought you’d want to spend more time in the tower starting experiments.”

“Discovering what killed my mother is only one of my goals. There’s time for everything, but tonight, I have somewhere to be.” Reardon had only just started to get up when a commotion struck.

The members of the court—sans the king, of course—burst in from the back of the room.

They were all human, and everyone in the castle knew the truth—but they didn’t all know thatReardonknew, and several people gaped and cast Reardon nervous glances.

“Didn’t you all hear?” Branwen called, leading the pack. “The Emerald Prince had a run about the castle last night.”

He looked much as Reardon had seen yesterday, since he’d still been dressed at the time, in a simple sunset-colored tunic—though in Reardon’s mind, he imagined he’d look quite at home in heavy armor.

The others Reardon had seen in various states of undress, so it was different seeing them in normal finery: Zephyr in similar dress to his usually transparent doublet, Liam in a long robe-like cloak befitting of a wizard, and Josie in a beautiful gown of cream and gold.

“Now,” Branwen went on, as he came to stand behind Reardon at the center table, “let’s see if I can teach our royal pain in the rear how to drink properly.” The slap Branwen gave to the middle of Reardon’s back rivalled any from Shayla, and there was a loud chorus of cheers.

“N-no, I can’t—”

“You can.” Branwen wedged in between Reardon and Barclay—who didn’t seem to mind once Josie sat at his other side—while Zephyr and Liam joined their respective partners. “I hear you bedded the king,” Branwen whispered, “yet he’s still being an ass. Maybe make him sweat a little tonight.”

Dissent was readily on Reardon’s tongue, but his words went stale. He hadn’t considered that tactic. He’d told the king he would come see him. The king wasexpectinghim to try.

Maybe making him wait had its advantages.

“Seems the ruling came early!” Oliver raised his voice over the din, standing from the end of one of the long tables and raising a glass. “By decree of our own court, the Emerald Prince is fully initiated!” He thrust his glass higher in a hearty hail that everyone mirrored, a full glass of ale being pushed into Reardon’s hand that he knew from experience he didn’t handle any better than wine—but he was willing to try. “To the prince!”

“The prince!” the others cried, and although Reardon had begun to feel at home days ago, a new warmth filled the crowded hall.

Even those who’d sneered at Reardon, like the fierce blond and her darkly colored elven lover, toasted him and offered welcoming smiles.

As for the king….

Reardon clanged his goblet with Branwen’s and took a hearty swig.

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