My stare flickered to the Red Princes. Prince Forrester’s eyes tightened, his fingers flicking to the blade hilt at his belt. Some of the young princes still chuckled in victory, but a shrill tweet reverberated from the trees, and the princes’ gazes lifted to a glimmer in the heavens.

Forrester jumped in surprise, his blade tumbling to the snow as hundreds of silver-winged birds spiralled in from the forest. They filled the branches above with a canopy of silk feathers, a low hum thundering in their beaks.

The Queen of the Pines watched with glassy eyes. “If Edward loved you such a great measure, then his work is done. Let him go to the next kingdom to be with his True King,” she said, and Cane blinked through tear-stained lashes.

The birds’ melody grew like a funeral choir, paving the moment with birdsong until the snow Edward left behind erupted and wisped away in the wind.

The birds hushed. They began to disperse, one by one.

Cane stood on wobbling knees and extended a bruised hand to the queen. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he rasped.

They looked at each other in silence. Then the queen took Cane’s hand. “Likewise, Prince.”

After a moment where everyone seemed unsure of what to do next, Red nobles began to leave, cheering and waving their flags. Reindeer lifted into the sky with shrieks, their horse-scent showering us below. But one from among the Reds stayed behind.

Jolly Cheat watched me from the crowd. Nobles brushed past him, making their way to their sleighs. Cheat wasn’t glaring anymore—his mouth was twisted, his brows were bunched, and his intense stare made me strangely mindful of my grimy hair and sunken eyes.

He tore his nickel gaze away and turned to leave with the others, his red and black overcoat disappearing amidst the capes and dresses.

“What shall we do with the prisoners, Your Majesty?” A voice drew my attention back to the Queen of the Pines. A spear-tip poked my back, and I hopped forward, catching Cane’s wilted, gray-purple gaze. Zane tried to follow, but they held him back.

The queen lifted the Crown of Pines from her head and studied it. Then she extended it to me. “It was his by right. And it seemed he wanted you to have it,” she said.

I was too stunned to accept the gift, but Cane took it and rested it on my hand until my fingers curled around it. A steady flow of power began to beat in my veins, like the crown was giving off a pulse. The queen marched to her sleigh, flanked by her Axemen and the Evergreen Host, and only Cane and I remained on the rink.

“Kingsblood,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry.” Guilt pressed on my stomach. “I’m so sorry.”