Prince Aspen led him back to his room and then promptly disappeared, leaving him to stand awkwardly before two Alpha guards. He wanted a hot bath but also, he wished he hadn’t missed dinner. He was just debating on how to ask the guards for a tray of food when his stomach did it for him. 

One guard cleared his throat. “Shall I bring you some food, Your Highness?”

He was mortified. Not only was he still being treated at a high status, now they knew he hadn’t been taking care of himself by allowing others to care for him. His face was a fierce red as he nodded. “Y-yes, please.”

“Since His Highness Prince Aspen has left, I’m going to have to ask you to please retire to your room until I return.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Ducking his head, he easily slipped through the door into his rooms. Once it was closed, he leaned his back against the door and let out a shaky breath. He wasn’t used to being around other fae who were looking out for his well-being. For all the infamy Winter court heraled, he had yet to see any atrocities. At least, not yet. Not to mention, he wasn’t used to being around Alphas, let alone speaking with them. All the guards stationed at his door since the Queen had ordered it had been Alphas. At least he knew the collar was working. None of them had looked at him with desire or ill intent. 

He pushed away from the door and moved into the bathroom, stripping his dirty clothes onto the floor beside the tub before running the hot water himself. He was sure all royalty and nobility relied on the servants to run their baths and other essential things but he couldn’t fathom the idea of making someone else do something he could do himself just fine. He washed, soaked his sore muscles and got out. He dressed light weight but with Aspen sleeping in his bed at night, he made sure he wore more than enough. By the time he was drying his hair, there was a knock on the door and a tray of food had come, brought in by his assigned servants. The woman smiled at him as she set it down on the small table before the sitting chair and, with a small curtsy, left him alone. 

When he pulled the lid off, his mouth watered. The food was freshly cooked, just for him and he felt slightly guilty for the cook who had to make something just for him. But the guilt easily melted away when he took a forkful. He took several more bites before a book on one of the bookshelves caught his attention. On the spine held the Queen’s family insignia and it seemed oddly out of place among all the worn books around it. 

He rose from his chair and walked over to it. Pulling it down, he realized-from what little of the Winter Court language he had learned-that it was a history of the royalty of Winter. Intrigued, he opened it to the first page as he walked back to his chair and propped the book open on his lap. Inside was a long list of Kings and Queens and their respected offspring. His finger followed down the list, over to the next page when he found the current Queen; Kaia and beneath that, a list of three names.

Phoenix’s breath hitched. Wait… there were three princes of Winter?! Aspen had confirmed one other but he had been killed. But no one had even mentioned a third Prince. This one was a name right above Aspen’s name: Crispin. Above that, Cypress. Which was the dead Prince and which was the one that seemed to be erased from everyone’s memory? 

He wasn’t given a chance for further research before the door of the room opened and Phoenix was hit with the scent of frost, pine and mulberry. A flush formed across his cheeks and he quickly closed the book and set it on the table. “Wel-welcome back!” He offered politely with a smile.

Prince Aspen barely glanced in his direction as he walked in, closing the door behind him as he did so without a word. It was like this for the last three nights. The Winter Prince would enter, undress, bathe and then promptly sit pouring over scrolls and parchments laid out on the table for him. Phoenix always fell asleep before him and, when he woke in the morning, the Prince was already gone. If the Alpha even slept at all, Phoenix didn’t know. All he knew was that he was becoming far too comfortable with Aspen’s scent in his bed and in his room. 

Phoenix’s heart and smile fell when Aspen disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door. He let out a sigh and decided to put the book back on the shelf. He wasn’t sure it was his place to be diving too deep into family drama. Whatever the reason was about keeping the third prince a secret, it wasn't his place to know. Aspen had already seemed annoyed that he had found out about his killed brother. 

He ate slowly, no longer really feeling the meal. When he was finished, he left it on the tray for the servants to clean up later. He didn’t know when they came in but the plates were always cleaned up by morning. Walking through into the bedroom, he stared forlornly at the bed before moving towards his side. It was around the time that Prince Aspen reappeared. His white hair was tousled from a towel and damp. A sheen of wetness showed against his skin and even his clean white undershirt stuck to places along his chest and shoulders. Phoenix found himself staring, taking in the clean scent of pine and mulberry and at the way Aspen’s body seemed to tease a well muscled physique and a slim waist. 

Thankfully, Aspen hadn’t noticed when he spoke and snapped Phoenix out of his stare. He flushed furiously, noting that his own pheromones had softly begun to creep out, ready to entice the Alpha to him. 

“A messenger has returned from Autumn with news from their Queen.” he was saying, as he moved to the bed stand beside the bed where a single lanturn had been lit. “Apparently the Queen will be flying here, alone, in anticipation of meeting you. I suggest getting some sleep. You will have your first audience with the Autumn Queen come morning.”

His poor body had suffered so many shifting emotions in the span of a few moments that all he could do was sit down on the edge of his bed feeling numb and hollow. In a span of three days, he had gotten used to the monotony of the normal day and had forgotten about the chaos of his life outside of it. He forgot that he wasn’t a slave anymore, and that he was a bastard heir of Spring, possibly a secret heir to Autumn and that the fate of all the Courts rested on his shoulders. 

Behind him, he felt the bed shift and he looked behind him, surprised to find that Aspen had blown out the lantern and was sitting opposite him, his back to him. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask but he closed it just as quickly. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt a strange warmth spread through him. Aspen was actually going to sleep beside him. He had assumed he had since the Queen had ordered it but he’d always been gone by morning. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, supposed to say. Was he dressed enough, Too well? He swallowed and, behind him, Prince Aspen sighed loudly.

“I can smell your stress from here. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. Just go to sleep.” He sounded far wearier than he had let on and, lifting up the corner of the blanket, slid beneath it, his head flopping down onto the pillow. His hair and pillow were the same color and Aspen seemed to become one with the bed. He tried to reign in his scent, trying to calm his mind as he did the same. He blew out his own lanturn and laid down.

But sleep didn’t come. He was heavily aware of Aspen’s leveled breathing as the Prince fell asleep. He was aware of the way his scent seemed to fill the room and wrap around him. It was calming, peaceful. Slowly, as to not move too much, he rolled over, eyes trailing over the outline of the Alpha’s shoulder, still damp from his bath. Further down, the curve of his neck and the top of his back, exposed as the loose-necked shirt fell away. He could just imagine himself gliding his fingertips along the unmarked skin there. Not a single scar or beauty mark marred his skin and they had definition. A back and shoulders that was used to using a weapon, to holding onto reins, to sparring hand to hand. Damp white hair curled gently at his nape and Phoenix had to resist running his fingers through the fluffy softness of his hair. He knew it was probably because he had royal blood but Aspen was beautiful and he wondered, from what he had discovered of the Prince, if there were deeper, darker reasons he had this cold outer shell. He had seen glimpses of the boy that was underneath and he, never more than now, wanted to chip away the layers of that ice and find out who the true Prince was underneath. 

But his dream was shattered when he remembered Aspen’s words; that he never wanted to mate with him and that he planned to return him to Autumn, where he belonged. His heart stuttered a moment, the warmth he had been feeling turning cold and, once more, he rolled back over with his back to the male once more. He squeezed his eyes shut against tears and waited for sleep to take him.