Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(24)

We were in the main dining hall of Winterwind, my family’s estate in the Spire Mountains in northern Bellona. Normally, at the dinner hour, the hall would have been empty, except for me, my parents, and Ansel, but this evening, dozens of people had crowded in to celebrate my parents’ fifteenth wedding anniversary.

Flames crackled in the fireplace, while candles flickered on the mantel, bathing the hall in a soft, golden glow. Yuletide was only a few weeks away, and red, green, and silver fluorestones had already been strung up on the mantel and all around the fireplace, adding more light and plenty of holiday cheer to the festivities. Pine trees had also been set up in metal stands in the hall’s four corners, although no glass decorations adorned their branches yet.

A large table ran down the center of the room, and a feast had been laid out for everyone to enjoy. Roasted lemon-pepper chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, apricot-glazed carrots, kiwi cakes, cranberry-apple pies. All my favorites. I breathed in the delicious scents.

My father’s laughter rang out, and I focused on my parents, who were standing next to the fireplace, greeting their guests.

Lady Leighton Larimar Winter Blair, my mother, had the same black hair and gray-blue eyes that I did, while Jarl Sancus, my father, was a tall man with brown hair and blue eyes. They made a handsome couple, and they clearly loved each other, given the way their eyes warmed and their faces softened every time they snuck an adoring glance at each other.

Peppery anger filled my nose, overpowering the feast’s aromas, and I realized that the scent and the emotion were coming from Ansel. I glanced up at my tutor, who was staring at my parents. My father slid his arm around my mother’s waist, and Ansel’s lips puckered. He probably didn’t like them being so openly affectionate, since he was always so cold, remote, and distant.

Ansel had come to Winterwind three months ago, after my old tutor had retired. Unlike the rest of the staff, who laughed and joked with each other, Ansel kept to himself. He spent most of his time in the library, either preparing or teaching me my lessons or reading by the fireplace long into the night. My mother was the only one whose company he enjoyed, and she was the only one who could ever coax a smile out of him.

But Ansel was not without his admirers. Giselle, one of the kitchen workers a few years older than me, walked over and planted herself in front of him. He tried to look past her at my parents again, but she sidled in that direction, cutting off his view of them.

“Do you want something, Giselle?” Ansel asked in an annoyed tone.

“I thought you could use a drink.” She offered him the glass of cranberry wine in her hand.

“No, thank you,” he replied.

“Are you sure you don’t want some?” Giselle murmured, taking a sip of wine, then licking her lips. “Or perhaps I could interest you in something else. Something more . . . robust?”

She toyed with the peekaboo lace on the front of her blue gown, as if her meaning wasn’t already clear enough.

I crinkled my nose. Ewww. Sure, Ansel was handsome with his blond hair, violet eyes, and tall, muscled figure, but he was also in his forties, just like my parents were. He was easily twice Giselle’s age.

Ansel gave her an annoyed frown. “No,” he repeated in a much sterner voice. “Now, why don’t you run along and play with the other little girls?”

Giselle’s cheeks flamed. She gulped down the rest of her wine, as if to prove that she wasn’t a little girl, then stormed off.

Ansel watched Giselle a moment longer, then grabbed the bronze pocket watch hooked to a short chain clipped to his vest. Ansel always carried the watch, which he constantly checked. I wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t like the hours moved any faster the more often he looked at it.

But I’d grown curious about the watch, and I’d snuck a glance at it one day when he’d laid it on the table during my lesson. To my disappointment, it was a plain bronze watch, with no magic or glamours. Ansel must have bought it at some secondhand shop, since a large, fancy cursive M was engraved on the cover, instead of his own A.

Ansel nodded, as though something about the time pleased him, then let the watch drop back down against his vest. “Come along, Everleigh. Let’s greet your parents.”

Despite the fact that everyone had been getting ready for the dinner all day long, Ansel had still made me finish my lessons like usual. We were among the last to arrive, and we had to hug the wall to make our way over to the fireplace.

Several people called out greetings to Ansel, but he nodded and moved on, never taking his gaze off my parents. We were almost to them when he snapped his fingers at one of the servants and grabbed a glass of cranberry wine off the man’s tray. I thought he might take a sip, but he only clutched it in his hand.

Finally, we reached my parents. We had to wait until they finished speaking with a noblewoman before my parents turned toward us.

My father reached out and hugged me tight against his side. “There’s my Evie.”

I grinned and hugged him back.

“What do you say that we sneak away early in the morning and go down into the mine? We’ve opened up a new chamber of tearstone I want to show you.”

My father’s mine was located on the edge of Winterwind, and I loved exploring the cool, dark caverns and chiseling bits of tearstone, fluorestone, and more out of the rough, jagged walls.

I hugged him again. “Yes!”