Then there was Ash. He had been there as well, but he had turned cold and cruel, abandoning me to the mercy of his brother and queen. Or so I’d thought at the time. The Winter Court is brutal and unmerciful, viewing emotion as a weakness that must be destroyed. Ash had been keeping me safe the only way he knew how: by playing the part of a heartless Winter prince. He’d played it well; he’d hinted to me about how he would have to treat me when we got there, and I’d still believed his act wholeheartedly. I’d thought he had turned on me, used me, and my heart had broken into little pieces. I didn’t realize until later how much Ash had sacrificed to keep me safe.
God, I was so naive, I thought, watching crystalline stalactites roll by the carriage windows. Mab’s palace resided in an enormous icy cavern, the ceiling so high you couldn’t see it through the darkness. I’m lucky I didn’t get eaten the very first day I was there. If I could go back to that moment and talk to myself, I’d probably smack me. Thinking of that shy, uncertain girl now made me sigh. You can’t afford to wear your heart on your sleeve anymore, Meghan. Not in the Winter Court. You’re the Iron Queen now. You have a whole kingdom counting on you to be strong.
The palace came into view through the carriage windows, a pristine, glacial blue castle with ice hanging off every tower, coating every step, as beautiful as it was deadly. Just like its queen.
Who, admittedly, was not terribly pleased with me for marrying her favorite—and now only—son.
I looked at Ash, who was gazing toward the palace, his eyes distant and his face blank. Remembering, just like me. I felt a twinge of sadness, empathy and guilt. This had to be hard for him.
“Hey.” I touched the back of his palm, where a gold band entwined with silver vines and leaves circled his third finger, a twin of my own. He turned almost guiltily, and I smiled at him. “You all right?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I’m fine. Just…” He nodded out the window, to the frozen spires looming above the rooftops, and shrugged. “Memories.”
“Do you miss it?”
“The court? The squabbles and backstabbing and constantly having to watch what I said or did? Hardly.” He snorted, and I smiled, relieved to hear it.
“But…” He sighed, looking out the window again. “There are some things that I miss. I lived here such a long time, I knew the Winter Court better than almost anyone. I still do. But now…” His brow furrowed. “Now, when I look at Tir Na Nog, all can I see are the missing pieces. The family who’s no longer there. Sage is gone. Rowan is gone.” His eyes clouded over, and I could feel his regret, the gnawing ache of remorse and guilt. “I never thought I would miss them,” Ash mused in a soft voice. “I never thought…I would be the very last of my line.”
I took his hand in both of mine, squeezing gently, the cool metal of his wedding band brushing my skin. “I’m sorry, Ash,” I whispered, as his bright soulful gaze shifted to me. “I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I miss my family like crazy, and they’re still alive.”
“It’s a little different.” Ash gave me a faint smile, though his eyes were still shadowed. “Your family loves one another—you would do whatever it takes to keep them safe. My family…well, you’ve seen them. I could never drop my guard around my brothers, especially Rowan. And Mab…” He shook his head. “Mab was always the Winter Queen, and she never let us forget that.”
“But you still miss them.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “I was still a part of that circle. It was familiar, safe. I belonged there. Even with all the cruel games we used to play, the countless times we used each other, I still knew that Rowan and Sage and Mab would always be there.” He gazed down at his hand, still trapped in mine. “But things are different now. My brothers are gone, and the Winter Court will no longer welcome me, not like it did before.”
“Feeling homesick?”
“Tir Na Nog is no longer my home.” Ash finally looked up again, meeting my gaze. His eyes lightened, back to that gorgeous silver. “I’m whining, aren’t I?” he said with a rueful look, and shook his head. “No, I’m not homesick. I might miss my kin, but my home is Mag Tuiredh, or wherever you wish to rule from. The Nevernever, the Iron Realm, even the mortal world, it doesn’t matter to me. Meghan…” He shifted closer, closing the distance between us, and one hand rose to brush my cheek. “My home…is with you.”
Dammit, don’t cry, Meghan. I bit my lip to keep the tears in check. It would not do to show up to the Winter Court with blurry eyes, but sometimes Ash would surprise me with quiet, sincere statements like these and I couldn’t help it.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, mistaking my tears for remorse, perhaps. “I’ll stop talking about the Winter Court. I knew I had to come back and face Mab eventually. You shouldn’t have to hear me go on and on about it—”
“Ash,” I interrupted, placing a finger against his mouth, making him arch his brows. “Just kiss me.”
He smiled. Slipping an arm around my shoulders, he drew me forward, lowered his head and brought his lips down to mine.
We kissed each other in that dark carriage, our lips moving in rhythm, both of us uncaring of the Unseelie city right outside the windows. Ash was gentle at first, keeping himself under control, but when I leaned against him, tracing kisses down his jaw, he groaned and tilted his head back, whispering my name. I pushed him into the corner, my hands tangling in his hair, his running the length of my back, pulling us closer. Our kisses were hungry now, devouring. My tongue parted his lips, sweeping inside; his pulled away to press to my neck, making me shiver and gasp. My hand slipped down his chest to his lean, hard stomach, and then slid beneath the fabric, tracing his ribs. He jerked, exhaling raggedly, before his cool lips seared over mine again.
Pulling back, he watched me, those clear silver eyes gleaming brightly in the darkness. “My queen,” he breathed, one hand reaching up to frame my cheek, making my stomach jump and twirl. “I belong to you. No matter what Mab says, no matter how long I’ve been in Tir Na Nog, my life is yours. Nothing will ever make me leave your side.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” I warned him, as my eyes went blurry again and his gorgeous face shifted in the darkness like water. “And Mab is either going to be very happy to see me in tears, or very disgusted with us.” He laughed softly and drew me close, wrapping his arms around me in a fierce, protective way. His heart pounded beneath my fingers, and I felt the lightest brush of his lips against my ear.
“I love you, Meghan,” he whispered, and I gave a tiny, happy sob, hiding my face in his shirt. Ash held me tight, resting his chin atop my head, gazing out the window. “I don’t have to hide anything anymore,” he murmured above me, sounding content and defiant at the same time. “Not from Mab, not from anyone. Let them talk and stare. This Elysium will be very different.”
The carriage jerked and shuddered to a halt at the front gates of the Winter palace. Ash reluctantly let me go as I pulled back, composing myself for the ordeal ahead. The carriage driver hopped down from the seat and opened the door for us, letting in a swirl of chilly wind. Ash exited first, then turned to help me down.
“Ready for this?” I asked him as I stepped out into the cold, snowy courtyard. Icicles hung from everything, and the air was bitingly cold. Oh, yes, lovely Unseelie weather. I remembered this quite well. Glitch and a squad of Iron knights stepped forward, flanking us, ready to follow. Ash nodded, offering his arm, and together we stepped into Mab’s cold, frozen domain.
The first thing I noticed, as we crossed the courtyard full of frozen statues and huge, multicolored crystals, was that it was full of Winter fey. Considering this was the heart of Unseelie territory, that wasn’t surprising, but what made me wary was the fact that they were all staring at us. Sidhe nobles watched us with barely concealed smirks, goblins and redcaps followed us hungrily, though they still kept their distance from the knights, and bogies lurked in the shadows, watching intently as we passed.
Ash’s grip on my arm was tight as we wove our way through the courtyard, ignoring and yet unable to ignore our inhuman audience. As we began climbing the steps into the palace, one of the sidhe nobles, a lanky faery with spiky crystalline hair, gave Ash a mocking salute and murmured a sarcastic “Prince.” Ash didn’t acknowledge him; his face stayed blank. The mask of the Winter prince.
It dawned on me what was happening. They were all here to see the new queen and her supposedly mortal husband. Not to be welcoming or polite; they were testing for weakness, wondering if this new, half-human queen would be easy to manipulate and take apart. And they were also here for Ash, to see if their former ice prince would be weak as a mere mortal. Which would make the queen he served weak, as well.
Oh, that had to end. Here and now. Not only for the future of my kingdom, but if Ash was to have any peace in Tir Na Nog, he was going to have to prove himself to his own people. Prove to everyone that neither the Iron Queen nor her knight—though both had mortal blood—were ever to be underestimated.
“Ash,” I whispered as we neared the top of the steps. “Remember what I said this morning, about not getting into any duels?”
“Yes.”
We’d reached the top of the steps, a few feet away from the open door into the hall, and I pulled him to a stop. Glitch and the knights paused as well, but I motioned for them to keep going. He gave me a worried look, but bowed and went through the arch, stopping on the other side to wait for us.
I turned to my knight, who looked vaguely worried, as well. “I take it back. The mob behind us is itching for trouble. I want you to oblige them.”
Ash blinked. “You want me to start a fight?” he asked in disbelief. “Now?” When I nodded, he frowned, lowering his voice. “Mab and Oberon are expecting both of us,” he said. “It might send the wrong message if you go in alone.”