“I am on vacation.” She gave him a look, daring him to quarrel, but he wasn’t going to refuse the opportunity to enjoy at least one more day with her.
He turned left.
As they drove, Donia sat quietly at his side. They were almost at the resort when she reached out and took his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” he said tentatively. After a moment, he added, “What are we sorry for this time?”
She laughed, and a small cloud of frosty air brushed his cheek. “For letting my fear keep us from trying to change what you are. I don’t want to make your choices any more than I’d want you to make mine. If I were mortal, I’d risk anything to be with you. I did.” She took a deep breath. “I can tell myself that I might not have done so if I’d known how it hurt or knew that it could kill me, but I walked into what I thought was certain death twice out of love for you. I shouldn’t try to stop you, and I shouldn’t expect that you’ll be happy being mortal. I can’t pretend to be mortal. You can’t tell me it’s enough for you . . . and I don’t want to try to keep my Winter leashed. Last night . . . I wanted you to be breathing the snow into the world with me. At the very least, I want you to be able to be safe from it.”
He steered the car into the resort and waited until he pulled into a parking spot before asking, “Does this mean we can try to make me fey again?”
No stillness in the world could compete with the still of Winter, but he had learned centuries ago that sometimes patience was the best choice. He waited as the car filled with frosty air. He waited as Donia exited the car. He waited as they registered and checked into their room.
Then, she turned to him. “We can look at all of the possibilities before we decide what to try, but between the centuries you’ve lived and the centuries some of our friends have lived . . . I am willing to believe that there is an answer. We can find a way.”
Several icy tears slipped down her cheeks, but when he tried to embrace her, she held up a hand. “Your word that we will only try it if we are reasonably certain you won’t . . . die.”
“You have my word.” He knew that the things she wasn’t saying were as important as the one she did say: the compromise he’d sought was what she’d accepted. Her other objections—to his servitude, to his pain—were no longer given voice. It was only his death that she was unable to accept.
He stepped forward until the hand she’d held up in a halting gesture was resting against his chest. “Now, what do we do about this video? And more importantly”—he caught her gaze—“can we watch it before it’s gone?”
For a moment, she didn’t say anything, but then her serious expression gave way to a mock chastising one and then to laughter. “Did I mention that you are incorrigible?”
“Not for hours.”
TWO WEEKS LATER . . .
Donia and Keenan watched the “making of the new ad for Evergreen Hills Resort.” In it, they were joined by various faeries pretending to film them, apply makeup, discuss costume difficulties, and one particularly entertaining segment when Cwenhild talked about the fact that their “technical team” and “effects team” refused to be seen on film because of their paranoia that they would be pressured to take on more work than they could handle.
“We thought it was all going to be ruined when someone uploaded the raw footage,” Cwenhild said on the screen. “Luckily, the client thought the viral video was an asset, so it all worked out.”
The video cut to a resort representative who smilingly added, “Everyone who’s been to Evergreen Hills knows it’s an escape from the busy lives we all lead, so we thought we’d use a campaign to show that a visit to our resort is filled with magic.”
Off camera, Cwenhild snorted. “Magic.”
The resort representative sighed. “If you’ve been on the slopes for one of our moonlight specials, it’s easy to believe in magic.” Pointedly, he glanced at Cwenhild. The camera followed his gaze as he challenged her. “Come see us. We can enchant even the skeptical.”
As the video ended, Keenan laughed. “Your plan was genius.”
“I decided what to do with the money from the ad,” Donia said in a casual way. She stepped between Keenan and the monitor. “I bought several houses for the court’s use.”
“With one check?”
“Well, no,” she admitted. “I added a bit more. . . . I thought maybe if we wanted another vacation, I could send them away for the week, and we’ll stay home alone this time.”
Keenan laughed again.
“And then, we could go back there on our own. . . .” The Winter Queen nestled closer to him.
He wrapped his arms around her. “Oh?”
“Since everyone keeps assuring me your plan will work, I figure we ought to start planning regular vacations.” She looked up at him. “And you promised me a honeymoon too.”
The joy that filled Keenan was larger than he thought he could contain. “I think we ought to have two of them, one before I become fey again and one after. Everything I—”
But the rest of the words he would say were lost as Donia pulled him to her.
Everything I could want in eternity is possible because of you, he thought, and then he stopped thinking and simply enjoyed being in the arms of the one person in all of forever who made his life complete.