Frost: A fae romance (Frost and Nectar Book 1)

When I awoke, it was late in the day. The afternoon sun poured in through the window, filling the room with a honey-hued light. It bathed the old book spines and the black fur blanket in gold, and cast long, deep blue shadows across the stone floor. Here, even the light seemed enchanted—richer, more vibrant.

Slowly, I rose from the bed, running my hand over my ribs to check for sore points. The pain had faded, feeling like a faint bruise at most.

I glanced down, slightly disgusted to find that I was still in my running clothes. But I supposed no one was around to judge me.

Blinking, I entered the larger room and found Shalini sprawled on her bed, reading a book. She looked up at me with a grin. “Look at you, already better.”

My head was pounding like I was hungover. “Almost.” I flopped down on the bed next to her, closing my eyes. King Torin’s healing appeared to have worked, but it had left my muscles and the cartilage between my ribs painfully sore. “Have you heard anything about the next trial yet? Torin suggested it would be more brutal than the first.”

“Shit. No, I haven’t heard a thing. Aeron came by earlier with food, but that was it.”

My stomach rumbled, and I sat up. By the door was a small wooden table laden with silver cloche–lidded platters.

“There’s chicken and some kind of herbal salad with flowers,” said Shalini, adding, “Surprisingly tasty.”

Swinging my feet over the side of the bed, I approached the table and removed one of the domed covers. The food looked exquisite, the salad riotous shades of spring and sunsets—green, violet, carrot, canary yellow, and plum. I pulled a plate from the table and crossed to a desk to eat, then popped a little yellow flower into my mouth, which was flavored with a tangy orange vinaigrette.

Worry danced in the background of my thoughts.

Let’s hope Torin keeps me alive until this is over.

When I’d finished eating, I went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the copper clawfoot tub. Outside, a lurid crimson sunset stained the sky, tinging the snow with red. I stripped off the filthy running clothes and dipped my feet into the hot water.

I slid into the bath, my skin turning pink as steam coiled around me. I didn’t belong here. Even the dark castle stones made me feel that way. Despite my ears and genetic makeup, I was a human through and through—Chloe’s daughter.

When I closed my eyes, I kept seeing visions of blood seeping into snow.

Forcing those images out of my mind, I stretched my arms over my head, letting the hot water run over me, remembering the feel of Torin’s magic. Now I could feel the knots and the tightness in my chest loosen. The skin over my ribs was unblemished, unbruised. Torin’s healing touch had been miraculously effective.

I grabbed a bar of soap and ran it over my body. It smelled of evergreen trees and petrichor.

Only when the water started getting cold did I drag myself from the tub. I dried my hair and body with a towel. Still damp, I crossed into the main room to find we were no longer alone. Torin had returned and draped himself over a velvety armchair. “We need to train.” He pulled out a silver flask and took a sip. “Are you ready?”

I stared at him. “Does it look like I’m ready?”

“Get dressed, Ava. Let’s try to make sure the next trial goes better than today’s.” He nodded at a pile of tidy white clothes, neatly folded on the table where the food had been. He rose from the chair and slid his flask back into his pocket. “A half mile east of the castle, you’ll find a clearing in the woods. A cemetery. Look for the lit torches through the tree branches, and you’ll find me there.”

When the door closed behind him, I turned to Shalini, still clutching my towel, and frowned. “He’s awfully bossy.”

“He is a fae king with nearly unlimited magical power, so…I think that’s expected.”

“A cemetery, though?” I snatched the pile of clothes from the table. “Did he say what we’d be doing?”

“Not a word.” She jumped off her bed and pulled on a cloak. “But I’m coming with you.”

“Why not stay in the warmth?” I knew Shalini well enough to drop the towel and start dressing.

“Because I came here for adventure, and I won’t get it reading books. Although some of the smut is really quite good.” She smiled brightly.

I pulled on a pair of white pants, a matching shirt, and a white woolen cloak. Perfect for blending into the snow outside. “If I die during the next trial, do you think you could stay and ask Aeron out?”

“How about we don’t find out?”

I frowned at Shalini’s red cloak, thinking of the medieval English queen who’d escaped a winter siege camouflaged in white. “If you want to come with me, you need to dress the part. All white. I don’t think anyone is supposed to see us, or the princesses will be kicking my ribs in again.”

Shalini cocked her head, and the warm light shown in her dark brown eyes. “Listen, Ava, it’s a bit scarier here than I imagined, but I think you just need to go with it. You are fae, after all. I watched clips of Moria and the princesses online. They’re taking no prisoners. You’ve got to be as brutal as they are.”

“I did poison a crowd of people with mustard gas or something today,” I admitted. “Which is something I never expected to do with my life.”

“Good. If they come for you again, go for the jugular. Because it’s you or them, and I really prefer you.”

I hugged my cloak tightly as we crossed into the dark landscape and the icy wind stung my cheeks. Shalini had found a white cloak several sizes too large, and she trudged by my side. I could hear her teeth chattering, but she didn’t complain once. We entered the dark forest. Moonlight streamed over iced tree branches.

“What do you think the princesses are doing now?” she asked.

“Hot bath, maybe. And some champagne. Celebrating their wins.”

“And that’s what we’ll do after your next win,” she said brightly.

There was a note of false cheer in her voice, and I appreciated her effort. I could tell she was worried about where this would all go, but she was doing her best not to show it.

Between the dark trunks, warm light flickered. As we drew closer, I glanced at the ribbons and baubles decorating the tree branches. I stopped to look at one of the glittering charms swinging in the breeze. A small golden frame encircled a portrait of a beautiful woman in a dress with a high collar. Jewels, trinkets, and skeleton keys swayed at the ends of silk ribbons, and little spheres held tiny toys. Children’s faces adorned some of the little portraits. I wasn’t sure what all this meant, but a shudder rippled up my spine.

I paused again to look at one of the little oval portraits that twisted in the wind. On the back, someone had inscribed the words,

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world’s more full of weeping

than you can understand.

The sadness of the words coiled deep inside me, and it took me a moment to realize I’d seen them before—in a Yeats poem called “The Stolen Child.”

“Is it just me,” I whispered, “or is this place creepy?”

“Not just you,” Shalini whispered back. “A forest full of children’s pictures hanging from trees is unquestionably creepy as fuck.”

“Ava…” Torin’s low voice floated on the wind, making my heart speed up.

I followed the flickering lights, until we crossed into a clearing. Crooked tombstones jutted from the snowy earth like monstrous teeth. When I looked closer, I saw the death’s head carvings above the text.

All around the clearing, ribbons and trinkets hung from the trees, some of them tinkling together in the wind. In the shadows of an oak, Torin stood next to Aeron.

He stepped forward, and I caught a glimpse of two rapiers in his hands.

I hugged my cloak like a shield. “What are we doing out here?”

He held up one of the rapiers, then tossed it to me. It arced through the air, and I darted forward to catch it by the hilt, surprised to find it was much heavier than what I was used to. Now this was a real sword, not the modern kind I’d practiced with.

“Not really into fencing safety protocols, are you?” I said.

Torin marched through the snow, stepping over a tiny tombstone that looked disturbingly like it might belong to a small child. He crossed into an open area, a cleared snowy circle within the tombstones. Once, maybe a temple or church had stood there.

The corner of his mouth curled. “I know you are a fencing champion, but that was among humans. I need to see how you compete at the fae level.”

I stopped myself from arguing that of course I was good, because the truth was, humans were not as fast, strong, or dexterous as the fae. Perhaps he had a point.

“Why are we in a cemetery in the woods?” I asked. “What is this place?”

“We’re here because no one ever comes here.” Torin prowled closer in the cleared circle, graceful as a cat. When he was only a few feet from me, he stopped and looked around, as if noticing the strangeness for the first time. “It’s the old burying ground for the curiosities from long ago.”

“The curiosities?” Shalini asked. “What does that mean?”

“It’s what we used to call humans we brought here. Long ago, wealthy fae would bring young human curiosities to our realm and raise them.” He shrugged. “It was fashionable, hundreds of years ago.” He glanced at me. “You were raised among humans.”

“You two would both be considered curiosities,” added Aeron. “Exotic creatures from another world. Even if one of you is technically fae.”

“No,” said Torin, his eyes locked on me. “Ava is a changeling, of course.”

“Hang on,” I said. “So, the fae…kidnapped human children?”

Torin sighed. “They were very well looked after.” His gaze slid over a row of tiny gravestones. “At least, attempts were made to look after them. Humans are so fragile that it’s confusing to us. They really die very easily.”

“It was a different time,” added Aeron with a shrug.

Torin nodded. “And the fae who took the curiosities usually left behind a fae changeling with the human parents. The changelings were usually demented, wild fae who served no purpose here in Faerie. But they were glamoured to look like human babies, so the families never knew.” He cocked his head as he looked at me. “Like you, Ava.”

“Okay, that’s really not what I am,” I snapped. Fuck. It wasn’t, was it?

Torin lifted his blade and inspected it in the moonlight. “Honestly, it was a real improvement on fae–human relations from a thousand years ago, when we used to cut out the eyes and tongues of any humans who spotted us in the forest.”

“Perfectly reasonable, then.” This fucking place… “Can we just get on with the fencing?”

He nodded and pointed a few feet away from him. “Start there.” He glanced at Shalini and Aeron. “You might want to move out of the way. We will be moving around quite a bit.”

“Okay.” I stepped closer to him, lifting the sword with feigned awkwardness. “Is this right? I’m easily confused, because I’ve only spent time around curiosities and not real people.” I waved it around like it was a flyswatter.

Shalini snorted a laugh.

King Torin sighed. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking, so I will go ahead and explain. Your goal is to not get stabbed.”

I stared at him. This was not my experience of competitive fencing, which was not actually lethal. “Sorry, what? What are the actual rules here?” For foil, the strike zone was the lamé, the full-torso vest. For épée, the target was the whole body. For sabre, it was above the waist. Sabre was a slashing weapon, but foil hits had to be with the tip. I was used to a very specific set of rules.

With this sword, in Faerie? I had no idea what we were doing.

He cocked his head. “I told you the actual rules. Try not to get stabbed. And try to stab me. When you do, you get a point.”

Okay. I began to walk toward him. He held his sword out in a casual grip, and when I was close enough, I tapped my blade against his.

“Don’t go for my sword,” he said. “You will want to hit me.”

I didn’t wait for him to finish. As fast as I could, I slashed the end of my blade at his chest, slicing an eight-inch gash through his cloak.

King Torin jumped back, staring at me, then a slow smile turned the corner of his lips. “Good.” He attacked immediately.

This time, I parried hard, driving his blade toward the floor. Then, before he could react, I grabbed the hilt of his sword and wrenched it clean out of his hand. I threw it, and it skidded across the icy snow. I whirled and pressed my blade against his throat—lightly.

Okay, so that was not a standard fencing move, nor was this standard fencing—and it seemed like these swords were the actual, medieval dangerous kind, and not the light foils I’d practiced with.

I arched an eyebrow. “How am I doing?”

His blue eyes blazed in the darkness. After another moment, he returned my smile. “Perhaps you did learn some things among the curiosities, then. Or you adapt quickly.” He raised his hand. “Aeron. My blade.”

Aeron was already standing by the rapier. With the tip of his toe, he expertly flicked it up into the air, and Torin caught it effortlessly.

“All right,” he said, leveling the rapier at me. “This time, I know who I’m fighting.”

He held up his left arm, pointing his sword at me with the right. I did the same, sliding my feet into the starting position, my right foot pointed at him. He advanced, fast as lightning, stabbing with the end of his rapier. I parried it, driving the blade up and above my head. With a quick twist, I thrust my blade forward and skewered him neatly in the shoulder. Just a tiny little stab through his cloak, but I stared at it, my stomach twisting. “Sorry.”

The weapons I’d trained on weren’t actually designed to skewer anyone, but in Faerie of course they were.

“Don’t apologize.” He grunted. “Best of seven.”

“Three for Ava, zero for Torin,” Shalini called out in a tone that could only be described as gloating.

This time Torin was more circumspect in his approach. He carefully circled me, stabbing and feinting—testing my reflexes. I waited until he’d lunged a little bit too far and parried hard, slashing at his knee. Quickly, Torin jumped out of the way, cursing under his breath.

“Any other techniques you want to fill me in on?”

He smiled back at me. “Stay alive.”

He began to circle me again, feinting and testing. I kept up my defensive strategy, parrying his strokes, staying out of striking range. Even though he needed me to be good, I could tell he was competitive as hell. He wanted to even the score, and I was more than willing to make him work for it.

“All right.” Torin flashed me a mischievous smile. “Let’s try this with an offhand. Aeron, toss me a dagger.”

Aeron, who apparently had been prepared for this request, tossed a short dagger in Torin’s general direction. Torin reached out with his free hand and caught it.

“And what about me?” I said. “Can I get a parrying dagger, too?”

“Is your counsel ready with one?” Torin continued to circle me, like a hunter with his eye on his prey.

“She would have been,” I said, “if anyone had told us why we were coming here.”

“I gotcha, Ava,” shouted Shalini.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw silver arc through the air, then a dagger plunged into the snow at my feet.

At this point, the fight began in earnest.

Now it became clear that King Torin was used to fighting with two blades, and I was not. Among the curiosities, fencing was a popular sport—but it was done in a modern style, with a single sword. I was already out of my league, not being on a fencing strip, and doing all this circling on the snow. Adding an additional weapon into the mix was stretching the bounds of my ability. Still, I put up the best fight that I could.

I defended well, but Torin fought hard, herding me to the edge of the clearing. At any moment, I was going to fall backward over the row of children’s graves.

As I faltered, he stabbed, and my parry missed. The tip of his rapier nicked my shoulder.

He cocked his head. “There.”

Irritated, I raised my sword. “You’re still down two points.”

Torin stepped back into the circle, assuming the starting position. I lunged forward in a surprise attack, but he was somehow ready. With ease, he caught my blade between his off-hand dagger and his rapier, and ripped my sword from my hand. In an instant, he’d nicked my other shoulder.

I gritted my teeth, feeling my irritation simmer. But I kept my mouth shut because I knew better than to be a sore loser.

“Three-two.” Amusement gleamed in the king’s eyes. “Next touch ties it.”

Torin’s sword was up, and his little smile suggested he had full confidence. I sensed that he knew he’d figured me out, that this final point would go in his favor. I’d do my best to make sure it didn’t.

I raised my blade, and Torin immediately advanced. His rapier weaved around in a serpentine motion, but I wasn’t used to looking out for a dagger, too. I backed away, unable to watch the two blades simultaneously.

His rapier slashed, and I parried it. He counter-parried, and I leapt to the side to avoid being caught by his blade. He lunged at me with his dagger, but I ducked under his blow and slashed up with my own. Sadly, Torin was ready, deflecting my blade away with the hilt of his rapier.

“That’s not going to work,” he said with a cockiness that ignored the near miss.

As I steadied myself, he whipped forward and stabbed with his dagger. Somehow, I managed to defend, catching the tip of his rapier in the guard of my own. The blades of our daggers sparked against one another.

Torin pushed, driving my dagger arm down and his own dagger toward my throat.

“Yield,” he commanded in a low, velvety tone that brought to mind the feel of his magic inside me.

“No.” My arm shook, and his dagger inched closer and closer. He was going to use his size and strength to score the final point. He knew it, and I knew it.

What he didn’t know was that I always fought to win, and that included with more than just a blade.

I lifted my leg and brought my foot down hard into his kneecap. A disturbing crack sounded, and the king dropped his blades.

Slowly, Torin stooped to one knee, the muscles in his jaw working. The wind whipped over his hair, and I had the sense that he was mastering control over himself.

I leveled my blade at Torin’s throat. “Sorry, darling. No rules. You yield.”

I knew it had hurt, but as a fae, he’d heal exceedingly quickly. After all, he wasn’t like the fragile humans buried here.

Torin looked up at me, his jaw working. Slowly, his lips slid into a charming smile. “Looks like I absolutely picked the right person.”

High-pitched laughter floated on the cold wind, and I turned to see that a newcomer had joined our group.

Orla stood in the shadows by an oak, her blonde hair whipped by the wind. “Dearest brother, it sounds like you have picked a vicious one. Take care to keep her safe, though.”

Torin rose, flashing her an indulgent grin. But when I looked back to see her, she was gone, already blending into the night around us.

I collapsed into my bed, my toes and fingers numb with the cold. A fire crackled in the fireplace, the only light in the room. Under the warmth of my blankets, my muscles were starting to melt.

The fencing tournament would be the final event, several weeks from now. But as the only fae here without magic, Torin was determined to make sure I had every advantage possible when it came to skill. I’d be training with him every night.

The day had exhausted me. This was, quite literally, more exercise than I’d gotten in a week back in the human world.

“Shalini!” I called out. “My whole body hurts.”

“Fifty million,” she called back.

Right. Fair point.

And whatever else Andrew and Ashley were doing, I couldn’t imagine it had been half as interesting as my day.

Tonight, I hadn’t the energy to look for dragons in the sky. I gave the stars a cursory glance through the mullioned windows, then closed my eyes and fell into a deep, deep sleep.