Page 10 of Of Snow and Sapphire

“Then have me secretly,” Ludelle said. “Have me wholly behind closed doors where eyes cannot see.”

“That…that sounds like a bad idea.”

Kotyn fussed in her hands so she let her go. Kotyn wandered the small area, sniffing the leaves but keeping close by.

“Once I have you,” Zimyn said. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

Ludelle sat back on her hands, letting the dirt soil her hands and the sticks bite into her pale skin.

“Then we wait,” she suggested. “I’ll complete my first Undertaking, marry my consort, and then we can be lovers in secret.”

Zimyn considered her words, rubbing his chin. “It might take years, decades even, before you need to do your Undertaking.”

“I will wait as long as it takes to finally call you mine. Any amount of time together will be enough.”

“I love you, Ludelle.” He said it so easily, so simply, and her heart fluttered. “I would wait centuries to have you, even if our time together is only seconds. I would find you in another life, just to have you again.” Zimyn gently kissed her lips, offering only a taste of what she one day hoped to have in full.

Five

The carriage ride had been bumpy and uncomfortable—not because of the constant bouncing that caused her to hit her head against the velvet interior, but because of Balvan’s nonstop briefing, as if she knew nothing of her court. Ludelle had spent her whole life studying the court’s politics, history, and economics. She was well aware of the importance of the west’s need to maintain ice production in order to preserve meat for the year. The way Balvan spoke, though, one would think she had never even heard of the Snow Court before. It was insulting.

It didn’t help when at each village they passed, there was a line of people watching the carriage wheel through the streets. Ludelle waved at them, but they had their arms crossed and their eyes downcast. She couldn’t blame them; their lives depended on her, and she had yet to prove herself. Balvan had prepared her for the cold hard truth of the people’s uncertainty.

“They expect you to instill confidence. That you will pick a powerful match and maintain the stronghold of the Snow Court,” Balvan said obnoxiously, his nasally voice grating more than usual today. At least he strategically wore browns and blacks so she could contrast nicely in her white gown. He knew that optics were just as important as actual political dealings. “There cannot be even a hint of any doubt coming from you, so you will let them know that you have chosen your husband already.”

“And if they ask who I have chosen?”

“You’re Queen. Tell them it’s not their business.”

“I do not think avoiding answering a simple question will instill confidence in the people.”

Balvan’s jaw tightened, unimpressed with her opinions and her quick dismissal of his advice. “Then tell them it will be a surprise. That you want your last few days before your marriage is officially announced to be one of private companionship.”

The word companionship rankled, but she swallowed down the bitterness of it.

“So that they can spread more rumors about who sleeps in my bed?” She snorted. “Nothing about my life is private.”

He adjusted his long coat. “Well it’s better than people gossiping about that brute and you running away together.”

She tsked. “Now, that is not very becoming of you. That brute has been key to my training for the Undertaking. He has made me stronger and more prepared.” Ludelle didn’t even know why she was defending him, why it even mattered anymore. Zimyn would no longer be Balvan’s concern. Much less her own.

Ludelle continued, as she tapped her cobalt claws against the frosted window. “Your lack of confidence in me makes me question my abilities. Maybe it’s time to reconsider what you add to the court.”

He smiled, a silver tooth peeking through. Although years older than her—the same age her grandmother would be if she still lived—he was still handsome. His long brown hair, expertly done, and his clothes perfectly pressed. “You would’t dare. The court loves me and trusts me. They have for a long time. And your grandmother would turn in her grave if she knew you had relieved me of my position.”

“Now, I see where all that confidence is,” Ludelle retorted, as she uncrossed her ankles to take up more room in the tight space. “You have none to bestow unto me because it is puffed up in your mind. Is that why you look like your head is seconds away from popping off your neck?”

“I don’t know who you think you are—”

“The Queen,” she interjected plainly.

“But you are nothing without me. This court would have long melted to a flood zone weren’t for me.”

“We will see.”

Ludelle stood atop a hill. Ominous gray clouds stretched across the sky, yet there was no snowfall to be seen. The Weather Gods mocked her. Since this village was on the outskirts of the court, furthest from the castle, they experienced the effects of dwindling powers first. The castle that stood at the center of the court brimmed with the final drops until the day of the Undertaking.

This brought Ludelle and Balvan here, still miles away from their intended destination. The rest of the way to the western village needed to be trekked on foot as the roads were beginning to soften, and the wheels of the carriage would have gotten stuck in the mud. Her guards flanked her, now, in case of an attack, but the quiet rural village didn’t pose a threat. Zimyn stayed to the back, ensuring nothing went awry from behind them. He avoided her gaze, just like she avoided his.

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