Page 3 of Of Snow and Sapphire

“You look excited,” Villeta said. Ludelle’s lady in waiting sipped on a glass of sparkling wine with cubes of ice floating in it.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before Villeta added, “I heard Queen Ludelle’s dress is absolutely stunning.”

“Why must I know that?” he asked too sharply.

Villeta's eyes widened. Her voice became sing-songy, like an innocent child. “No reason. Helena just told me, and I thought I would share. With you.”

“Why not share with her other ladies in waiting?”

Villeta huffed, her pink colored lips matching her elegant dress. The bright color complemented her tan skin. “Because they’re not the ones secretly in love with her.”

Zimyn coughed, choking on nothing but air. A few guests shifted their attention onto him, and he flashed them a comforting smile.

“I wouldn’t speak so openly about matters you don’t understand, Villeta,” he chided, his lips downturned.

“Apologies, I just don’t understand the charade,” she waved him off. “You want each other, yet you refuse to be her consort.”

Zimyn sighed. It wasn’t that simple. Ludelle could in fact choose him as her consort, but that would not be honoring tradition. Many would look down on her if she picked him because having a noble as her husband would strengthen the court, while choosing a man of his station would weaken her appearance to the realm. It is even said that the more powerful a consort was, the more powers the court would be blessed with from the Weather Gods. The validity of that legend, however, was yet to be determined.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love Ludelle. He did immensely. His whole life, he did, and leaving her would be like ripping apart his soul. But she needed to pick her consort wisely. Zimyn would then give up his title as Captain as soon as Ludelle completed her first Undertaking. He would be free to travel the continent and she could rule as she had always been destined.

Even though their hearts wanted each other, they both knew—deep down—that their futures conflicted.

Ludelle found herself in the perfect dress to draw the nobles in. It had an a-line skirt made of tulle that had been dusted with glitter, the bodice sheer except for lace snowflakes embroidered on it, and long strands of glitter flowing off her shoulders. The gown was light and perfect for dancing—a skill that had been drilled into her since birth, practically.

Taking one last deep breath, she stepped into the ballroom. The eyes of the crowd all turned towards the Queen, but her eyes only saw him. Zimyn stood with his back stoically straight, the silver of his uniform bringing out the cool tones of his light brown skin and sky blue hair.

She made her way over to the dais, adorned with one icy throne, her dress fanning around her as she sat. This time next week there would be two.

People from all over the court were in attendance, gawking and whispering. They approached to greet her, making small conversation about their lives that Ludelle took great care to remember. Though Ludelle felt like a spectacle, she endured it. She still had so much to prove to her people, and she didn’t want to fail them.

Soon the dancing would begin, but for now, she took in the room. This was the last time she would be doing any of this alone. She didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse. Her grandmother told her stories about how people had viewed her differently after her marriage. Not that they lost respect for her, but that conversations turned from ways to improve the lives of the people to questions about when she would bear the heir to the throne. Ludelle worried the same would happen to her; that she would become not a Queen but simply a mother to a future King. She worked too hard for that to become the case, and she would work harder to guarantee it wouldn’t happen.

“You look so refined,” Helena said, her own navy dress sparkling as she stepped up beside the throne.

“Thank you.” Ludelle bowed her head. “I am sure you will catch the eye of someone special tonight.”

Helena blushed, sneaking a glance at Villeta. Ludelle's mouth opened slightly. She could pinch herself for being so blind for all these years. No wonder Helena was always quick to rush to Villeta’s table during their game nights.

Nobles made their way over to try and persuade her that they were the perfect fit for consort. Some went as far as providing her a detailed plan on how to improve the court. Others came with flowers or jewelry, which she had a guard take them away and give them to the Ladies to rifle through. Bribes wouldn’t sway her.

Saira, one of her ladies in waiting who was just a little too nosy, said. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Pardon?”

“You’re craning your poor neck so much. Are you seeking out the Captain? He left to survey the perimeters. Apparently there was a giant spill of wine that has now frozen to the castle floor.”

“If you must know, I am not looking for Zimyn. I’m merely scoping out the room to decide on my first dance partner.”

Saira hummed, but didn’t seem convinced. “Let’s hope the nobles are better on their feet than you are at lying.”

Ludelle snorted, accepting a glass of sparkling wine from a passing servant. The energy of the room grew antsy as she continued sitting on her throne. Good. She wanted to build up the tension before she finally let it burst as the music unfolded and the dancing began.

Balvan stepped up to her, bowing cordially in his smart-looking black suit. His face was stiff and his shoulders tense. “It’s time to let the festivities begin, Queen Ludelle. The people don’t like to be toyed with.”

“Are they complaining about drinking quality wine and enjoying the fineness of the castle?”

“Go,” he said sternly. So she did, but only after she chugged the fizzy liquid until it burned her throat.

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