Page 8 of A Lord of Snow and Greed

Chapter 3

VALE

I’d never imagined that my wedding day would turn out like this.

Since I was young, I’d been told that my marriage would be for an alliance, but I’d always hoped that one day, I’d wed my soulmate. While Lady Neve was the most attractive female I’d ever laid eyes upon, I found it impossible to believe that we were soulmates.

Wouldn’t I have felt our bond already?

It doesn’t matter,I told myself and rolled my shoulders back. I stood in a courtyard, barefoot, upon the roots of the Heart Drassil, the living, breathing soul of the Tower.

Lady Neve might not be my soulmate, if such a person even existed for me, but she was a fae of Winter’s Realm. A lady in need. A person I’d promised to protect, and one who had been through far too much in her life. She was one of my people, and I’d shield her from my father’s rage.

If a prince didn’t have honor, he had nothing.

I did not regret my choice.

“You should lose the sword.” Caelo approached and held out his hand, gloved to keep out the biting wind and lightly falling snow. “I’ll watch overSkelda.”

I unbuckled my belt and passed him the lot, belt, sheath, and blade. My best friend took it before meeting my eyes again.

“You’re sure?”

“I am,” I said.

Caelo patted the blade. “I know you inherited this blade, but the name always fit you, you know?”

In Old High Fae,Skeldameant protector. Centuries ago, back when my sword had been named, more fae would have recognized the translation. The fae of Winter’s Realm rarely spoke Old High Fae. And when they did, it was usually in the House of Wisdom or the very tower I stood inside.

“Thank you.” I clapped my friend on the shoulder. “You’ll stand with me?”

“We all will.” He referred to my closest friends, soldiers who were of the same mind when it came to the fate of Winter’s Realm. The cabal, as my sister liked to call us.

I gazed beyond Caelo and found Lady Sayyida and Marit Armenil speaking with Sir Qildor. He, along with Caelo, myself, and four others, was part of thecabal. Filip Balik, my squire and the second youngest son and heir to the Balik great house, watched me earnestly, set apart from the group. He would join the cabal in an instant if I’d let him. But at sixteen turns, Filip was too young. Theage of adulthood in my kingdom was seventeen, but the cabal only allowed members who had reached twenty turns.

After all, the cabal wasn’t a rebel organization, but we did things that my father might not approve of. Like now, my fellow members would surely do anything to protect me from the choice I’d made. One that would send my father into a rage.

The door leading into the Tower’s library opened and all those in the circular courtyard turned. When I followed suit, my breath caught.

Neve hovered on the threshold of the courtyard, unglamoured and as stunning as ever.

No vampire blood streaked her face. Her long, silvery white tresses were pulled back and styled in an elegant bun, with wisps of hair falling around her face. Saga had traded cloaks with Neve so that the bride’s was clean. Beneath the white fur cloak, Neve wore the same gown she’d worn to the Courting Festival’s opening ball.

The amethyst gown showed off her ample curves to perfection. It was the same dress she’d worn when we’d danced. When we’d almost kissed—right in front of my father and Warden Roar.

Heat raked through my body. The dance we’d shared at the ball, the potential simmering between us had been so hot that the rest of the fae, the music, the dancing,everything, had faded away. That night, despite its disastrous end, would be forever imprinted into me.

“Are you sure about this, Prince Vale?” Grand Staret Arkyn asked. He’d been standing alone on the other sideof the courtyard, a silent act of rebellion against the rites I forced him to perform.

“I’m certain. Perform the noble ceremony.”

The staret lifted a brow. “Not the love match?”

From his point of view, it was an odd choice. I was forcing him to wed us. Surely, he believed it was because we were in love.

The staret could keep thinking that.

“They’re more traditional for my house,” I said, which was true. My parents had taken noble vows, as had my grandparents on both sides and their parents before them. When one could not lie, arranged marriages required different vows than a marriage born of love.

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