Page 18 of Of Snow and Sapphire

Lord Finch’s eyes widened as two guards hauled him away. She could have sworn a tear dripped down his face, and she loved the sight of it.

So…she had only three nobles left to pick from, now. Those three now had put their drinks down on the crystal table that was situated between the two couches. One had his hands behind his back as if he worried that she would chop them off at any moment. It was a pleasing feeling to be respected.

“Please sit.” They all stood around unsure, scratching their heads, so she said more forcefully. “Pick a seat and sit down.”

They listened this time, practically tripping over themselves to find a spot. Amusing would put it lightly. She liked the power she had in these situations. How easy it was to get people to do as she told them to. One of the guards in the corner coughed, as if trying to cover a laugh because he noticed it, too.

Ludelle kept standing though, not letting herself be in a vulnerable position. There were too many instances where men would think they were at the same level as her when she sat down. Plus, her dress made it difficult, but they didn’t need to know that.

“You are all here to court me, so do your best,” she said plainly, shrugging nonchalantly as if she didn’t want to be here. A stain on her day.

Lord Mitah quickly took his chance. He was the first out of his seat, and gracefully stepped up to her. His gray suit with silver thread complemented her dress. A lucky happenstance.

“Queen Ludelle,” he bowed. “May we sit in the corner and chat?”

Ludelle obliged him since she had no other choice in the matter, as they took a spot next to the desserts table. There was everything that a person could dream of: tarts with the freshest fruit, biscuits covered in silver and white icing, and her favorite chocolate cake, which she had to resist.

The other nobles deflated back on the couch, beating themselves up for not getting to her first. Developing patience was an important aspect of the future consort, so she felt no guilt.

“You are a beauty just like they say,” the noble said, as he assessed her, taking stock of all the assets she left on display. The slit that left her leg exposed, and his eyes trailed upwards until they landed on her face.

“Flattery won’t get you far.” she told him, as she straightened her dress. Sitting in it was practically impossible but she adjusted herself to make it work.

“Then, we shall skip all the pleasantries and move on to more serious topics.”

“What topics did you have in mind?” She asked, her pulse quickening.

“The issue of your Undertaking, of course.”

“My Undertaking is my burden. There is no reason to harp on it further than I already do.”

He stretched over and picked a gooseberry and vanilla custard tart. Did he know that was Zimyn’s favorite?

“Well…it concerns me, too, if I am chosen as your betrothed, as I will be the one on the other side thrown into potential danger.” He took a bite, the custard sticking to his lips until he dragged his tongue across it. He moaned lightly. “Has your Captain prepared you?”

“The court’s Captain has been training me since childhood. I am more than ready.” She didn’t appreciate him questioning her abilities—and Zimyn’s—all in one breath.

Although, Ludelle never considered the other side of this. That perhaps the nobles did not want to be in the position of putting their life on the line for a test that rested on Ludelle’s shoulders. She assumed anyone offered the opportunity would just gladly take it.

“What if the danger is of the mind?” Seeing the confusion on her face, he continued, impressed with himself that he’d caught her off guard. “What if instead of a physical threat, your Undertaking strips you bare? Your heart and soul ripped, while you have to piece it back together. Are you ready for that?”

Ludelle shook her head frantically. “There has never been such an Undertaking. I assure you my fighting skills will be tested in some way or another.” Though she wished it wouldn’t. “And even if it is of the mind, I think I have proven myself to you already. I’m sure you remember the tantrum that you threw after I beat you in such a simple game all those years ago.”

His jaw tensed as he brushed the crumbs from his suit. “I hope you are correct, because I wouldn’t take a chance on you otherwise.”

Ludelle gasped, prepared to give him a lashing of her own. How dare he question his Queen? But she didn’t have a chance before the doors opened and Zimyn walked in.

Nine

Zimyn didn’t want to be here. In fact, he purposefully assigned Flix to take his place because he couldn’t stomach watching these men peacock themselves in order to win her hand. Ludelle was not a prize, but a gift that one laid their soul to.

Which is why he had spent the last hour pacing and feeling guilty for leaving her to those vultures. She didn’t need him protecting her, but she did need someone supporting her. Someone with her best interest in mind.

Ludelle’s attention had snapped his way when the door clicked shut behind him, but the Queen quickly recovered and turned away. Lord Mitah barely spared him a glance before he rested his hand on her exposed thigh, like he was staking his claim. Her white flesh against his tawny skin made Zimyn’s heart clench. Ludelle tried swatting Lord Mitah’s hand away, but the noble wouldn’t budge.

Zimyn relieved Flix of his position in one of the corners and surveyed the other nobles who seemed to have abandoned their drinks. Strange. Zimyn had been told that four nobles would be present. One either didn’t make it, or he was a fool who got on Ludelle’s bad side. Zimyn wagered it was the latter.

With the harp player softly trailing her fingers through the strings, he couldn’t hear the conversation as the noble whispered in Ludelle’s ear, but from Ludelle’s fisted hands, he could tell she was displeased. Would it be foolish of him to try and rescue her? Most definitely—but it didn’t stop him from fantasizing about it. How easy it would be to yank on the noble's suit collar and slice his sword across his fragile skin, until only shreds remained.

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