Page 17 of A Lord of Snow and Greed

“Fine,” I spat. “Neve?”

“Let me get my boots.” She dashed deeper into my suite, emerging again a moment later, ready.

Mother sneered. “I hope you’re both truly ready for what’s coming. Follow me.”

I extended my hand to Neve. She took it without so much as blinking. We fell into step behind my mother, united.

I’d been a part of many teams in the past. Like when I’d played various sports as a youngling and trained my magic alongside other young males and females born into the Sacred Eight. My time in the royal army came later, and those armed brothers and sisters were second in my heart only to those in my cabal.

But this partnership felt different. No one I’d sided with had ever elicited the bodily reactions that Neve did. Never had I needed to go against my family to protect those on my other teams.

We twisted and turned through Frostveil Palace, my home for as long as I could remember, and it didn’t take long until I figured out where we were going. The throne room. Father didn’t use the throne room often. Only when he wanted to impress. To awe.

I’d counted on this interrogation being fairly private, but perhaps I’d been a fool. Nearly every great lord and lady in the kingdom were in Avaldenn for the Courting Festival. Would they all be there?

It didn’t take long for me to learn that it was far worse than I had imagined. Not only was my entire family present in the magnificent white room, but like the night of the Courting Festival’s opening ball, the throne room was filled with members of the Sacred Eight. Even more surprising, lesser jarls and their lady wives were present too, along with far more members of the Clawsguard than usual, and the Grand Staret.

I swallowed and shot Neve a sidelong glance. But she wasn’t watching me. Nor had she seemed to notice others watchingus. Rather, her eyes stared resolutely ahead at the thrones.

When I turned to face my father, I spotted yet another person I hadn’t expected to be present.

Sir Qildor stood off to the side, at the base of the steps to the throne. He was not in uniform, but rather, he looked as though he’d been pulled from his bed. Mystomach twisted. Not on active duty, so why was he so close to the thrones? And why were other Clawsguards behind him, hands on the hilts of their swords?

“Here.” Father’s voice boomed through the cavernous throne room. The few people who had not noticed our entrance were paying attention now. It wasn’t lost on me that today Father wore the Crown of Winter. He didn’t wear it often and usually only in the most official of capacities. Some believed that was because Father was not pretentious, but I knew the truth. The crown hereallywanted, the Frør Crown, had been lost since the Falk reign.

With Mother three paces ahead, we walked through the center of the crowd. Upon reaching the thrones, Mother climbed the steps, joining my family. I stopped and stared up into my father’s bright blue eyes.

“What happened?” Father asked my mother as she sat on her high-backed golden throne. The royal blue cushions took her weight, and she leaned back, seemingly unbothered.

“They have wed. In the eyes and by the hands of the Grand Staret, with many witnesses present.”

“Who?”

Mother’s gaze shifted to Saga. “Our daughter, the ladies Sayyida Virtoris and Marit Armenil. Sir Caelo, Sir Qildor, and Squire Filip Balik. I believe that is more than enough?”

My lips parted. She had not mentioned Lord Riis. Nor Clemencia and Anna.

Then again, Clemencia had remained glamoured.Anna had too, but Mother had never known the human in the first place—just like she did not know the whores from the Warmsnap Tavern.

But Lord Riis . . . was Mother omitting him because they were childhood friends?

Against my better judgment, I twisted and took in the room. Though my scan was quick, I saw no sign of the Lord of Tongues’s giant stature or dark red hair that glinted copper in the right light. The other Sacred Eight families were present. Where was he?

“Look at me, Vale,” Father growled.

I snapped back to the moment to face him, and Neve squeezed my hand.

“And before?” the king asked. “The vampire?”

Mother’s chin lifted. “Lady Neve killed the prince. Our daughter must have foreseen it before it happened and gone to help. Then she got pulled into the wedding.”

“And our son and his friends were trying to help the devious Lady Neve,” Father growled. “Againstmy command.” Frost crept along the arms of his throne.

Though I couldn’t see them, I felt the crowd pull back. Rhistel and Saga mirrored the motion, leaning away from our father. Only Mother remained unfazed.

“Then you married the whore,” Father continued, as the frost climbed the high back of the throne, turning the gold to white. “Have you got anything to add, Vale?”

My shoulders rolled back. “Only that she’s no whore, but my lady wife. A female who now bears your name, Father. A Princess of House Aaberg and family.”

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