Part II

  Aster,

  It is my hope you will never read this. It is my convicted belief that you will.

  It is the way of our world to tell stories. A great many involve a beauty of virtuous heart and noble blood freeing a cursed prince or beast and living happily ever after; I spent many years hopeless, knowing my tale would hold no such resolution. I had the expository elements required- a cursed prince in a castle, able to be freed from my curse only by my betrothed; but my story holds no happy ending, and, until recently, it held no true love.

  Perhaps that is bold of me to say. You may notice this volume significantly damaged- I wrote a great many words before and after you came, none of which I deemed the right ones upon your leave to visit your family. I have disposed of unworthy words and I attempt now to convey the proper message. Let me stop procrastinating the inevitable crash.

  I was born east of the Sun Trail, in that barren tundra near the Desert of Dreams. In my prime, I was a handsome prince, destined to rule a sprawling underground metropolis. We were not human, and we were not faye- we were something in between, a hearty, magical folk, diverse and spiritual and enduring, our one uniform feature being a true beauty that rang through all our individuals. Then my mother, earth rest her soul, began to worry. Our underground kingdom bore no sustainable means of food or production, due to the wintry quality of surrounding lands. It was survivable- but our population had so grown that our people would suffer much on behalf of our unsustainable lifestyle. This is when she found the Jotunn.

  An island nation nearly impossible to find, the Jotunn kingdom… suffered great peril, only to their own condescending eyes. The chief and chieftess had birthed what they deemed a monster. All Jotunn people are tall, haggard, often tumescent. They have a certain kind of beauty when interacting with the natural world, but none of them would measure next to a faye. The Jotunn princess, all of three years old when I was two years from coronation, was considered ugly even by Jotunn standards. (I did not believe her so, upon meeting her, and attempted to vouch that spirit is worth more than external beauty regardless- this attempt at virtuous appeal would be my undoing.)

  We met with the Jotunn people. We tried to convince them of our good intentions and economic need. They marveled at our people, our goods, our artwork. All of the productions from under the Ice were valued highly, and the Jotunn people would offer great amounts of wealth, food, or needed materials for them.

  That wasn’t enough.

  The length of the moon’s turn from full back to full was enough to set the Jotunn chieftess’s heart on a dark desire. Her vanity caused her to meet in secret with my own mother, and a deal was arranged. Both women approached me and, upon hearing it, I adamantly refused.

  So I was locked away.

  The Jotunn chieftess held ancient magics strong enough to rival even that of the Reine Chouette. Assuming my rejection based on the “monstrous” appearance of her child, the chieftess cursed me to dwell as a stag (my namesake, and an animal deemed hideous by the Jotunn), alone, until her daughter came of age. At night, I would be permitted to roam as a man, but, should a woman’s eye behold me, I would be sent to the Jotunn castle dungeons. Should I communicate in any way with the faye (true faye- not halflings, as the Jotunn also detest humans), I would be sent to the castle dungeons. There I shall dwell until the wedding, and my curse, regardless, will remain until I wed my betrothed.

  Aster- these circumstances were not ideal to begin with, but I thought them avoidable, something I could deal with when the time came, until I knew you. I had even considered the marriage, for the good of the people under the Ice, until I knew you. I thought my curse an inconvenience at worst- until I knew you. Now that you are a part of my life, I cannot avoid this curse any longer. I cannot avoid this betrothal, but I cannot escape it on my own.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  You are destined to do heroic deeds. Perhaps it is time the prince be rescued rather than the damsel. Perhaps I am too presumptive, and my feelings are not of a likeness to yours.

  Should it be, however, that you somehow feel for me what I feel for you, and you deem it worth it to attempt an impossible rescue, you shall find me at the castle east of the sun and west of the moon. I wed this approaching midsummer.

  I hope you are well, and, whatever you choose, I will not begrudge you the outcome.

  Ardently Yours,

  Cervis

  Cervis closed the journal just as the palace began to shake.

  He stood with a sigh. She had failed him. Somehow, he’d known she would- perhaps not with intention to do so, but it would happen. He steeled himself and turned partly, looking over his shoulder. “Nyx? Leave the palace, quickly. Get outside the walls. When she comes… Tell her to seek the Fates. It won’t be easily done, but she is no coward, no weakling. She’ll need your help. Please- hold your tongue and help her.”

  The night-fox sighed. “Must I?”

  “If you have ever considered me a friend, please do this for me. Now- go.”

  The night-fox left the room in a streak of fleeting shadow, and then Cervis sat on his crumbling stone chair. He glanced up; through the parting cracks of the crumbling ceiling, he could see the twinkling silver glints of stars. Sol and the rest of the Lights flitted out, joining the darkening twilight sky.

  The palace sank from beneath him. The earth of the Palewood swallowed Cervis, and as the soil closed around him, a flash of gold brightened his vision. As the flash cleared, he landed in a cell in the basement of the Jotunn castle.

  The guard grunted and walked off. Cervis sat casually by the wall, hands bound and ice blue eyes calmly pointed forward. Only moments after his arrival, the chieftess stood before him, her daughter peeking with suspicious eyes around her shoulder.

  “Hello, Cervis. It took you longer than we had expected to finally join us here.”

  He nodded. “Contrarily, I arrived rather before I had expected to; you see, it was my expectation to never come here again.”

  “Why is he so ugly, Mother?” the daughter, nearly to maturity, whined, in a shrill, piggish voice. “Look at his hair! It’s gray!”

  “It’s white, dear. I know, the most beautiful girl in the land deserves the most beautiful man- but is there any way you can make do with the Ice Prince? He is not so terrible a person, and he has long appreciated your beauty with the highest regard.”

  “I would rather marry a pebble than him,” the daughter said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

  Cervis’s lips curved up at the corners, and he gave her a minute nod. “That can be arranged quite easily, I’m sure. Perhaps you can talk your mother into my release.”

  “I’d like him removed from our lands altogether,” the daughter said. Her mother bared her teeth at her, and the daughter shrank back.

  The chieftess turned to Cervis with hard orange eyes. “You are betrothed to her, Cervis, and until the wedding takes place, you will always be a stag in daylight hours off our grounds. What rule you broke to get here, I care not to know- but you’ll not be leaving. Guard- see that he is accommodated. If he’s hungry…” She gave a wicked grin. “Any leaves will do.”

  Cervis’s smile fell. “How you arranged this with my mother’s permission, I haven’t a clue- but it will not stand. I will leave this place. You forget my rank.”

  “And you forget mine. Not another word out of line, or we’ll start removing fingers.”

  She marched off, dragging her daughter behind by the wrist.

  Cervis leaned back and let his eyes close, a coolness breathing through him as he thought of smoky gray eyes, cherry-dark hair, a spirit and wit he had never witnessed before her.

  Aster Fallowfall, heroine, blessed by the Fates and the faye alike, goddaughter of the Winds- please… At least try.