Spring (Evermore Academy #2) - Audrey Grey Page 0,15
erase the dark coffee stain that mars the white laces and stitching. “There were chocolate croissants.”
Her expression is less than amused.
“Fine. Lesson learned.”
“I’ll have a word with her—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I can’t have you or the prince fighting my battles. If I’m going to live in this world, I have to prove I can handle myself.”
“Okay.” The twitch of her lips tells me she respects my decision.
“So, are you going to divulge what’s going on in the Winter Court?”
She flicks a narrow-eyed gaze my way. “Fae politics. Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Is he . . . in danger?” I prod, a strange flutter dancing in my chest.
One of her hands hovers over her favorite dagger, a curved white moonstone blade set in a jade handle. “Nothing he can’t handle.”
I blink as the invisible wires constricting my heart tighten. Does she think that’s supposed to be comforting?
We clear the courtyard steps. A dais sits near the back, white cherry blossoms blowing from the nearby trees and scattering across the stage. The main building rises in the background, the pale stone walls tinged green with ivy.
Wisteria and jasmine tangle over the windows and balcony railings, filling the air with their cloying scent.
I peer at the huge crowd. The entire school is here, from faculty to shadows and Evermore. Even the ancillary staff is in attendance. I spot Magus and wave, but the kind centaur with the beautiful red mane doesn’t see me.
Sprites buzz above our heads, while gnomes, fauns, and other types of lower Fae work in the fragrant gardens around us.
Headmistress Luna Lepidonis takes the stage. Giant gray moths wings with green dots unfurl behind her. Their powdery softness is in stark contrast to her sharp, almost severe features. The entire staff stands behind her.
“Students of Evermore Academy,” she begins. “I have some special news. Because of the darklings continued attacks near the Spring borders, the students from Whitehall Academy have chosen to transfer here for the year.”
A collective gasp travels through the crowd. Beside me, Eclipsa sucks air through her teeth. “Impossible.”
I guess someone didn’t hear what happened after Inara’s stunt this morning.
“As you’re all aware, the highest ranking Evermore of the reigning season traditionally gives a speech at the beginning of each year. Please give a warm welcome to the Spring Court Prince, Hellebore Narcissus.”
I look to Eclipsa, prepared to pepper her with a million questions—
She’s frozen, mouth twisted into what could either be shock or rage or something rawer.
What the frick? I’ve never seen her look so . . . unnerved. Her nostrils flare, her dark eyes unblinking, mouth parted slightly as she glares at the stage.
I follow her death stare to the Evermore male ascending the dais, expecting the pageantry I’m used to for high ranking Evermore.
Instead, I’m met with an alarmingly handsome blond male wearing fashionably frayed dark-wash jeans and a salmon-pink shirt that’s just tight enough to flaunt his heavenly abs and muscular chest. His hair is the color of aged honey. Styled to be edgy, the thick strands are cropped short on one side and fall to the tip of his ear on the other.
A male sprite with spiky platinum locks and delicate black wings flits just above him.
It’s rare to see a male sprite at the academy. Because males possess stronger venom, they’re typically used as guardians to royal Evermore babies in the nurseries.
On my shoulder, I feel Ruby sit up and suddenly take interest.
I slide my focus back to the Spring Prince. He’s not bulky like Rhaegar, whose strength is marked by his size, nor does he possess Valerian’s lupine strength.
No, there’s something dangerously magnetic about him, like a filthy rich bad boy who knows his money, power, and charm can buy him almost anything.
His I’m-special-just-because aura is nauseating. Especially as he casually rests his hands in his pockets, looks at the crowd, and curls his lips into a sensual smile.
And, whoa, that grin is like watching a flower bloom. Even the teachers seem to melt a little, male and female.
“Sweet baby Faeries,” Ruby whispers into my ear. “That boy can water my garden any day.”
Before I can help myself, a laugh trickles from my throat.
Prince Hellebore’s blue eyes slide to meet mine. They linger just long enough to ignite my insides before sweeping over the crowd.
“Students of Evermore Academy.” The arrogant, syrupy drawl is exactly what you’d expect from a spoiled Spring Court prince. “Thank you for opening your school to the students of Whitehall. I know, in