Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(28)

“We’ll get to that. I have a plan.”

At last, he pushed through an oak door into a gleaming, wintry landscape of snow-encrusted trees and fields. As I stepped outside, the icy air bit my face and hands.

The stark, crystalline beauty of the place made me catch my breath, and the rising sun stained the snowy world in stunning shades of gold and peach. My breath clouded around my face. The wind stung my skin, and I wrapped my arms around my chest, shivering. My feet were already growing cold and wet in the snow, the damp seeping through my sneakers.

Torin turned to look back at me and pulled two things from beneath his cloak, a small paper bag and a thermos. Tiny wisps of steam rose from the metal container.

I took it from him, grateful for the warmth, and inhaled the fresh scent of coffee. Oh, thank God.

I took a sip and felt my brain finally turn on.

He removed his thick black cloak and stepped behind me, wrapping the garment around my shoulders. I pulled it close. It had retained some of his heat, and instantly, my muscles began to relax.

I inhaled his scent, picking out the particular notes that identified him: moss, wet oak, and the faintest hint of pine straw.

“I don’t even feel the cold anymore,” he said softly.

When he stepped in front of me, I saw that he was wearing black wool trousers and a deep navy sweater that hugged his athletic body.

With the coat over my shoulders, I was better able to take in my surroundings. The castle stood on a small, snow-covered hill that overlooked white fields, which gently undulated to a row of trees in the distance, a dark forest that stretched on either side.

He handed me the little paper bag. “I have fresh croissants with blackberry jam.”

I pulled out the pastry and took a bite, savoring the rich, buttery flavor and the tartness of the berries. It tasted absolutely amazing.

If Torin wanted to charm me, he certainly knew how to go about it.

He stared out onto the landscape, his eyes flecks of ice. “The frost is descending upon us, but Faerie is as beautiful as ever.”

I blinked in the bright light. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like this. Waking up to the most perfect winter morning with an unsullied landscape.” I breathed in, letting the cool air fill my lungs. “I never get up this early.”

“It has its advantages,” said Torin.

“Is an early morning part of your sacrosanct routine?” I asked.

He turned to me, flipping up his middle finger with the ghost of smile.

I blinked.

“Did I do that right?” he asked.

“You did, yes. Impressive.”

“As for my sacrosanct routine, in my mornings, while you’re sleeping off your late nights, I get up at dawn to train. A Seelie king, above all, must be powerful and lethal.” Another faint smile. “And so must his queen.”

He started walking, leading me past the snowy fields to a path that curved around the castle. My damp shoes crunched over flattened, frozen grass. “If you’re looking for powerful and lethal,” I said, “you’ve got the wrong fae.”

“I knew that when I offered you the deal. But we’re going to fake it, and that’s all that matters.”

“You don’t mind cheating, then.” I sipped my coffee, still endlessly grateful that he’d thought to bring it.

King Torin’s eyes glinted. “Not when it’s necessary. We had to get out here before anyone saw us.

If I’m caught giving you an unfair advantage, you could be disqualified.” He met my gaze. “And I need you to win.”

We rounded a corner, and I glimpsed the starting line: two maypoles, the frozen wind whipping at their colored ribbons. A silk banner strung between them was labelled START.

The path curved down to a ridge of barren trees.

“How long is the course?” I asked.

“Just three miles. The trail was cleared last night. It’s about a mile in the forest and two in the fields. For the final mile, you’ll be coming back up toward the other side of the castle, and the crowd will be waiting there to identify the winner.”

A broad path of frozen grass cut straight across the rolling fields. As we walked, my shoes crushed on the icy ground. When we crossed the fields, I was inundated with a multitude of new smells: the raw earth, the sun warming the wool of his jacket, and the faintest hint of woodsmoke.

What would I have been like if I’d grown up here?

Snowflakes fluttered in the air, and ice glinted off distant thatched roofs.

We walked deeper into the snowy field, and I looked back at the castle. Despite its enormous interior that seemed to stretch for miles, it didn’t look that big from the outside. Intimidating, yes, with its sleek black rock and sharp-peaked towers, but not miles long. I wondered if there was some sort of magic or enchantment at play.

It gleamed in the morning sun. Flying from the tallest tower was a white flag emblazoned with a dark blue stag’s head.

When I glanced at the distant cottages and the smoke curling from their chimneys, curiosity stirred.

“Tell me about Faerie,” I said. “What do people here do? Besides the tournament.”

He inhaled deeply. “Farming is important. If I weren’t born a prince, that’s what I would have done. Farmers are crucial members of fae society. They grow the crops that feed our people. Without them, we’d all starve. But with the frost encroaching, their job is becoming more difficult than ever.”