Page 4 of Of Snow and Sapphire

Ludelle stood up straight. The crowd took a collective sigh of relief. “Let the dancing begin,” she announced. Her dress glittered around her as she spun, creating an aura of wonder. She spotted Zimyn standing on the far side of the hall, staring at her, like she were the moon pulling in his attention. Then she saw his eyes wander away and a chill swept through her.

The orchestra in the corner began playing a tune of a common waltz, but people still waited until Lord Cirrus bowed and reached out his hand to the Queen. “Can I have this dance?”

Ludelle accepted. They reached the center of the dance floor, and the rest of the crowd stood back to watch them as they gracefully glided across. The noble spun her around, but she had no difficulty keeping up as he guided her through it with such refined skill. His one pale arm on her hip, the other clasping her hand; in truth, she had never felt so elegant than in that moment. Usually she had to push the men in the right direction as they stepped on her toes, but Lord Cirrus had been properly trained—like her.

He wore exactly what she expected a man who came to impress would wear; his royal blue suit was beaded with small diamonds that bit into her skin as he held her close.

Noticing the direction of her eyes, he said, “I have an even larger collection of diamonds at home.”

Ludelle had seen the collection on many occasions. Lord Cirrus and his family hailed from the south, where the mines prosperously overflowed with the beautiful rock. It was one of the wealthiest areas of the court, since its stones traded well among the other Weather Courts. Hence, Ludelle had traveled there often with her father and mother for royal business.

“They are beautiful,” she said, trailing her fingers along his arms and drawing patterns as she went from one to the next. “Though not as impressive as the revered sapphire.”

Each Weather Court had their own gemstone, and the Snow Court’s was sapphire; a gift from the Weather Gods that represented abundance.

He chuckled. “Perhaps not, but I do think a diamond has such great depth. Its strength is easily forgotten because of its beauty, but it’s tough underneath. Just like you.”

Ludelle blushed, but she was grateful when the crowd had now joined the dance floor along with them, creating an atmosphere of delight. Glittering ball gowns twirled around her and laughter rang through her ears.

The first melody strummed to an end, and she was passed to the next noble—Lord Aeden—who was eager but lacked rhythm. Even Balvan took his turn to dance with her as a way to show the people how united they were. If they were in harmony, then the people could trust that the court was in good hands.

Balvan pulled her in and leaned close.

“A wonderful event,” he whispered in her ear. It was hard to hear with the music and people all around them celebrating jovially. “Have any of the nobles caught your eye?”

“Yes,” she lied. Although she had a duty to pick one of the nobles, none of them actually made her heart sing. Not like Zimyn; but she and him had come to an agreement years ago. She would not pick him as consort. Couldn’t.

“And who is the lucky gentleman?”

“That is between me and the Gods.”

“Stubborn as always, just like your grandmother,” he scoffed lightly. “I hope you chose wisely. All these nobles are a worthy choice.”

What made a man worthy? Their riches, power, ability to woo a woman to their bed? No, none of these men felt worthy of her hand. Ludelle thought nobody was—beyond one.

“You know…” Balvan said slowly, solemnly almost. ”It’ll be a sad day when you have to say goodbye to your Captain. He is such a great asset to the Court, but it’s likely for the best that he leaves.”

Ludelle narrowed her eyes. He spun her out, and her gaze landed on Zimyn. He stood against the wall, surveying the room.

“What do you mean?” Ludelle asked when she was back in Balvan’s arms.

“Captain Zimyn informed me that he was leaving after your Undertaking. He wanted to travel to the other courts. He cannot do that as Captain.”

The music around her stalled, or maybe that was just her head going quiet with the dull ringing that had taken over—and she stumbled. Thankfully, Balvan caught her, his hands tight on her waist.

Ludelle didn’t understand. That was never what they had agreed to. He…he promised her that he would stand by her side forever. Once she won her first Undertaking and chose a consort, they had agreed to remain lovers behind closed doors.

How could he choose to leave her when the very thought of being separated from him left her heart fractured?

Three

Zimyn considered himself to be a personable Captain, one who his subordinates could comfortably come to with any issues. It was how his father taught him to lead and to build trust amongst the ranks so they listened to his orders and did their jobs with pride. A genuine camaraderie—because without that foundation, the Snow Court would be vulnerable and his Queen would be without a strong unit protecting her.

He could never let anything happen to Ludelle, which is why when the time came for him to leave, he would only give up his title to someone he trusted deeply.

It was the night after the ball, and the guard’s quarters—situated on the first level of the castle to be ready in case of attack—always came with a rowdy bunch after dinner. Bellies filled and an overabundance of drinks consumed. Only a few had to remain on duty during the night, so the rest let loose. And they deserved it. Working at the castle was filled with long days and nights, constantly cautious of everyone, even if nothing had happened to the court in years. His father called it a blessing. Zimyn was more prone to call it luck.

“Hey Captain! Sit down and have a drink with us,” Novus yelled out, his own drink sloshing over the frosted glass. Novus was a stiff bastard when on duty, but he knew how to enjoy himself when the occasion called for it. To be fair, Zimyn did, too. Those opportunities were just slimmer since his promotion.

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