By Day Four of Solstice, I’d decided the Everfrost had way too many traditions that involved me being outside.
“Walk of the Winter Woods,” Lira said brightly as she helped wrestle me into yet another gown plus about fourteen layers. “Very sacred. Very old. Very romantic.”
“Those are three red flags in a row,” I said. “Nothing ‘sacred’ and ‘old’ has ever gone well for me. And ‘romantic’ is how I got into my first long-term life-ruining situation.”
Nyre snorted from where she was braiding my hair. “You are dramatic,” she said. “It is simply a ceremonial walk along the wards in the forest. The king and his consort listening to the realm together, reminding the woods who leads them.”
“Right,” I said. “A casual stroll with my complicated situationship along the border of our magical securit
