Daric gathered a portion of her hair and attached the gift above her ear. “Like a snowflake on ice,” he said, smiling as he adjusted a few sleep-tumbled locks and smoothed them down.

Rain shivered, not used to anyone else’s hands in her hair, and least of all Daric’s. She pressed her lips together, trapping her tears in her throat.

“Don’t you like it?” Daric asked, a worried crease forming between his brows.

Like it? She loved it. She loved him. It was torture.

“It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever had,” Rain finally answered in a voice that thickened with every word. “Thank you.”

Daric seemed pleased with her response, but then his expression turned troubled once more. “Wear it now, while you can, because you’ll have to hide it after we all move to Nighthall.”

“Why?” Rain asked, the thought of their family being uprooted two moons from now to live among vipers making her stomach cramp.

“Because Astraea will take it. She’s always been madly jealous of you.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Rain touched the starflower, wanting to look at it again but not wanting to undo Daric’s careful handiwork. “She’s a princess. Rich, powerful, and if one can ignore her inner ugliness, quite attractive.”

Daric made a face as he hopped off the bed and moved toward the door. “I can’t ignore it. I have names for Astraea but saying them out loud would tarnish your image of my princely manners forever.”

Rain’s lips twitched. “I’m certain my imagination can supply them without your help.”

Daric’s eyes sparked with genuine humor, despite the terrible union he faced for the benefit of his people. “I’m leaving so you can get dressed and come face the frigid breakfast room with me.”

Rain got goose bumps just thinking about it. Even firewood was scarce these days, and they mainly kept it for the evenings, for a small moment of comfort and peace. This winter had been darker and colder than most, and while it was officially spring now, Rain doubted the new season would bring much improvement. Gradual warming, yes, but no rain, of course. Thankfully, snowmelt would at least help fill the natural water basins for the coming weeks.

Daric turned back to her from the doorway. “As for Astraea being jealous, you’re of the House of Ash, and she knows she’ll never have what you have.”

“What’s that?” Rain asked, her heart jerking uncomfortably.

“A family that loves you.” Daric left and shut the door behind him.

Rain didn’t try to stop the wetness flooding her eyes. She would cry rivers if only her tears would make the crops grow again in Leathen.

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A Curse for Spring

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