Page 153 of Crowned By Roses

Then he walks away with a tiny smirk on his face. My cheeks heat. King Keldarion. I’ll have to right this mighty soon and marry my girl, because Kel alone having that title is getting old quick.

“He’s only teasing you, Prince Dayton,” Astrid says, skipping up beside me. She carries a huge platter of food: miniature cakes with powder-blue frosting, cherries coated in thick layers of chocolate, and even sliced fulgeo from the Above. People are likely to be quite surprised with their glowing hair tonight.

“I know.” I sigh, then raise a brow. “I heard you have a date for tonight’s celebration, little hare.”

“What!” Her cheeks flush as red as her eyes. “It’s not a date… Claudius just suggested we attend together and⁠—”

“Well,” I say, shifting from foot to foot, “Dom heard it was a date, and I saw him in the gardens, gathering a bouquet, going off about winning you back.”

“He is? Oh my goodness. This is going to be a disaster.” Astrid shoves the plate of food in my hands, then turns into a little white hare, hopping through the halls.

It’s like my beast; those cursed elements of us have become a part of who we are.

I grab a cherry from the tray and toss it up, opening my mouth wide…when suddenly, it’s rudely snatched in midair.

“That is for the guests.” Ezryn palms the cherry and grabs the tray, giving it to a passing staff member.

“Yes, Daddy,” I grumble. “Rosie instructed me to gather you all. I think she wants to see everyone before she makes her entrance.”

It’s all got to go according to plan: Rosalina’s grand entrance on the balcony, the coronation in the hall, then the party to end all parties on Castletree’s grounds. Everything is going to be perfect for our girl today.

“Alright.” Ezryn nods, voice reverberating in his starlight-silver helm. “I just need to talk to my brother first.”

Brother this, brother that. Never change, Ez. But I flash him a grin and head inside the Autumn wing’s library.

I’m hit with a rush of cinnamon and spice. It’s so familiar and so different at the same time. Sure, the stacks are still made of the tree, fireplaces burn throughout the large room, and buttery light streams through the windows over the leaf-scattered floors, but something’s changed.

The flying menaces weren’t here before.

“Hey, watch it!” I duck as one of them floats dangerously close to my head.

“Sorry, Prince Dayton!” the Elderblood calls before zipping around another cluster of winged fae.

They’ve certainly been busy in here. A great deal of Elderblood have decided to stay at Castletree to help with the translation project. Books, scrolls, and charts have been transported from Airaleth to Castletree’s library, and Farron’s been working with them to learn the language and translate so we can learn from the past.

Most of the Elderblood have returned to the Above, looking to rebuild Airaleth. And though Aquila has taken some ownership of them, she has no passion for leading. In fact, I’ve got sight of many of them following Kairyn—who’s now the wielder of Faustrius’s sword—around like little ducklings.

I know Rosalina would love Wrenley to help them with the restoration of Airaleth, but my former “mate” only seems to want to spend time alone, sitting in the highest branches of Castletree. Funny thing is she hasn’t tried to summon her own wings yet. Despite her namesake, she climbs up there like a cat.

I run a hand along the soft leather spines of the books. Though we lost so much during Castletree’s collapse, the realms have pooled their libraries together, making copies and donating books from private collections. I know Farron’s still grieving the loss of many of the texts, but he’s thrown himself into restoring what he can.

Keldarion even offered a suggestion to help. His Festival of Tales will become a seasonal celebration, not just in Winter but throughout all the realms. It’ll be a way to collect everyone’s stories, write them down, and share them with the world.

“Farron!” I call. “Little Leaf, you in here?”

There’s a rustle of pages above me, and I look up to see Farron fluttering fifty feet above me. I swear, Castletree has grown the stacks even taller now that the fae can fly. Farron is overjoyed with the extra shelf space.

“We have to go see our mate,” I say. “It’s almost time for her coronation to begin.”

“Right, right,” he says, pushing his golden glasses up his nose. “Just one more page. Come up here while you wait.”

I huff. Of course he would say that.

Although my wings are as dashing and beautiful as me—all teal and gold—I can’t say I’ve quite gotten the hang of flying like Farron has. But I’ve never stepped away from a challenge. So I leap into the air, flying clumsily toward the arched ceiling, only knocking off a couple of books on the way up. When I get close, he takes my hand and leads us to the very top of the bookshelf.

“You like to see me struggle,” I groan.

He smiles. “I like to see you.”