Tythra suffered an eternal night after the split of The Veil, and as we approached the camp of soldiers, my heart was in my throat. Though the anticipation made my hands sweat despite the frigid wind, I was more ready than ever.

With the dancing colors in the sky, it lit the path for us across the ice and hard-packed snow. In the horizon, I could see mountains, far, far away.

Tiny red flies buzzed around us with translucent wings. Their sudden burst of color was stark against the gray atmosphere around us.

“Disgusting little blood suckers,” she hissed, swiping her hand at one as she stopped her horse just behind Harold. “Of course, they’re hunting so close to The Veil. Try not to let them bite you, dear.”

She lifted her hood. Snow flew from the thick wool and curled along the swift wind as she kicked her legs over the side of the horse to dismount.

I would have asked what they were, but my eyes were locked on the camp the Royal Guard had made on the icy shore.

Canvas tents lined the beach and several fires blazed high, sending orange embers into the dark sky. They wore leather and fur over their emerald armor, and all turned to behold our arrival.

Every man kneeled to her—except for one—who didn’t bow as deep or linger as long. He was much different than I’d As imagined, bright ice-blue eyes on the verge of being completely white lifted to mine from under long silver hair streaked faintly with a black undertone that matched his brows. 

It was him.

Ewan—the wind element—one of the princes in my future court.

“We camp for the night,” she said to me. “And continue the journey in the morning.”

Nodding, I barely heard a word she said as the prince walked directly to me and held out a hand. I almost forgot anyone else was there, though they watched us with apt attention.

“Evening,” he said in a thick accent that made my spine tingle. “Prince Ewan, at your service.”

Swallowing, I glanced down and for a split second hesitated when I realized he had a metal hand. My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face free of emotion, accepted his hand, and lowered myself to the ground. I needed to know the story behind that hand, and found myself a great deal more curious than I thought I’d be.

He was tall, almost a full foot taller—another characteristic I was correct in assuming.  I noticed a point to his ears and was pleasantly surprised. He was an elf.

“We finally meet.”

Nodding, I prayed he couldn’t hear how loudly my heart beat against my ribs. The fact that he was technically the first man I’d met who wasn’t a prison guard left my throat dry and my cheeks hot.

For a moment, I could breathe again as he took his heavy gaze from my face and turned to Queen Sorcha.

“Queen Mother, there have been reports of elves in the territory just beyond The Veil.”

She folded her hands before her and pursed her lips. “They’re your people, Prince Ewan. What are they doing there?”

“Well, they’re from a lesser kingdom to the west, but I gather they are seeking refuge.”

“From what, exactly?”

He shrugged. “Civil war, probably. The report didn’t say.”

After a long sigh, she nodded. “Very well. I’ll deal with it once we get through The Veil. Any reports of weyrs?”

Prince Ewan shook his head. “No. The wind says we should be safe if we go at first light.”

“We will be ready,” she said, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. “I will retire to my tent and get some rest. You two should do the same.”

She kissed me on the cheek. “Sleep well,” she said and headed to one of the larger tents set up for her.

Once she was gone, the silence between Ewan and I was filled with the faint howling of the wind.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to be alone with you? I would have destroyed armies and climbed the Crimson Tower to rescue you if Queen Sorcha would have let me.”

Kala sat beside me, watching him.

“A dire wolf,” he said, smiling down at her.

“A changeling,” Kala corrected, surprising him as she shifted and stood before us in an indigo gown and gray cloak. Long white hair fell to her lower back and gently swayed. Faint wrinkles creased at the corners of her thin eyes, yet she looked no older than a faerie of forty despite living at least a century.

He stumbled backward, eyes widened. “Blessed spirits.”

She stretched and rolled her neck before resting a critical gaze at the prince. “Blessed spirits, indeed.”

A faint smile came to my lips. “Prince Ewan,” I said. “Meet my grandmother, Dowager Queen Kala of Mordigan.”

He raked a hand through his silky hair, and looked from my grandmother to me in awe. “Bloody brilliant.”

Kala pulled her cloak closer and looked down her narrow nose at him with ice-blue eyes. “You didn’t think the Queen Mother would leave you two alone, did you?”

For the first time since the queen saved me from the Crimson Tower, I was at ease. Even though we were camped on the beach outside of The Veil that separated the living from the dead, having my grandmother there in her faerie form brought me solace.

I covered my giggle with my hands. I wasn’t entirely alone during my imprisonment. Kala would always find a way to visit. Whether it was as a butterfly flying into my window, or a dove, she was one of the most rare of fairies. I was lucky to have her.

Eleven years in the Crimson Tower would have been unbearable without her company. When she was with me, my days would be filled with tutoring, etiquette lessons, and the occasional story about my parents and how they met at the Harvest Ball.

Though it took a great deal of energy and power to shift, she was allowed to return to her faerie form on occasion, if only for a little while.

My grandmother’s existence was lengthened because of her ability and each time she returned to that of a faerie, it shaved precious years off her life.

“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “I simply wanted to—”

“Yes, yes,” she said, cutting him off. “Show us to our tent, young man. The princess needs to rest. You can charm her as much as you’d like in the morning.”

Prince Ewan bowed to her and turned to obey her command.

“As you wish, Dowager Queen.”