Page 6 of The Midnight Blizzard

“I don’t think I’d be a particularly graceful ice skater, but I may take you up on the offer as long as you promise not to laugh at me.”

“I promise.”

“In that case, I accept. Let’s get you signed up for this bride competition.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t a competition.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Forget I called it that. As long as I’m one of the prince’s advisors, I’m not allowed to say anything other than ‘a week of balls’, but”—he shot me a sly grin—“only one girl will make it to the end without being asked to leave. You can decide for yourself if it’s a competition or not.”

Chapter 3

“The Frost family was already registered and assigned rooms yesterday afternoon,” the head steward Octavius told me in a bored tone. “There must have been an error on the books; my assistant only wrote two entries instead of three.”

“I was delayed in coming and my sisters weren’t sure if I would make it or not. I hope it’s no trouble,” I told him with a dazzling smile, ensuring that my cloak covered my dress. Even if the red fabric hid the majority of Kodiak’s bloodstains, it still looked travel worn and dirty.

“We don’t have an additional suite for lodging, but there should be an extra bed in your family’s rooms.” He dipped his quill back into the inkpot and scribbled a note. I couldn’t help feeling that he had the look of a rat about him, with a small, pointed nose, ruddy cheeks, and small, beady eyes.

“No problem at all,” I lied smoothly, still holding my smile in place. “I’m simply glad to be here.”

Octavius stamped his seal next to my name and handedme a sheaf of parchment. “All of the instructions are enclosed. The first ball begins this evening in the largest ballroom. Follow the signposts at sundown. Meals are served in the banquet hall, though breakfast already finished, and you’re free to roam the grounds. There will be daytime activities in the various rooms; it’s all on the schedule in your packet. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to myself or any of the other attendants.”

Clutching my papers, I retreated to an alcove to think. I needed to be presentable by evening for the first ball, but that meant finding clothing and a place to wash and style my hair. Valencia should have the dress I originally packed if she hadn’t already thrown it out, but I would rather burrow into the snow than ask my stepmother for help. I bit my lip. I barely knew Jack, and my pride wouldn’t allow me to ask him for anything else anyway.

Deciding that looking for the records room was more important than worrying about my wardrobe, I set out, striding purposefully down corridor after corridor, scanning each open room I passed for signs of scrolls and documents.

“I beg your pardon,” I said to a passing servant girl. “Do you know where I could find the records room?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, boosting her load of laundry in her thin arms. “It’s off limits and I’m not a scribe.”

The guard I asked reiterated that the records hall was off limits to anyone other than scribes and senior staff, but added warmly that I was welcome to explore the rest of the castle or participate in the activities the staff had planned for the women coming to meet the prince.

“There is even painting,” he told me proudly.

“Is there dress-making, by chance?” I asked. “I have an interest in that.”

His brow puckered as he thought. “I don’t think so. But there is some needlepoint.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” I lied again, then thanked him and continued to search.

There were rooms packed with women painting, sewing, learning new dances, or just sitting and conversing as they waited for the day to pass so the first ball could commence, all clearly too eager for the ball to sleep in. I had no such leisure time. My goal was to find a copy of the will, not socialize, but I did wish I’d thought to ask when exactly the next meal would be served.

In the subsequent hours I spent wandering through the castle, I felt like I managed to memorize a great deal of the layout, from the location of the courtyards all covered in a thick layer of snow to the guest rooms, which all had the same high-pitched chattering within as girls squealed together about the opportunity to vie for the prince’s hand. Their enthusiasm was palpable, and I found myself almost wishing that I could share in their energy with a sister or friend. My stepsister Vallia was tolerable sometimes, but any friendship or kindness she showed when we were alone together was inevitably eclipsed by her mother’s coldness and her sister’s cruelty. Remembering that one of those doors hid all three members of my stepfamily, I quickly turned my feet in the opposite direction and bit back a sigh of frustration.

The records for the entire kingdom had to be contained in a large room or set of rooms. Even if it was off-limits, was it truly that difficult to find? Besides, all I had to do was find a scribe to look for me if I wasn’t allowed in. Surely that wouldn’t break any rules. By the time the sun reached itspeak in the sky, I had already passed the same guard I’d spoken to three times, who was looking increasingly suspicious as to why a woman would be wandering alone through the halls for such an extended period of time, and in a dress and cloak with a damp hem to boot.

As if my thoughts had summoned him into being, a man with the signature scribe’s cap perched on his head came into view, sitting on a bench near a window, sunlight streaming onto the sheaf of parchment he was poring over. Eager anticipation gave me a surge of energy that chased away my fatigue and hunger.

“Excuse me!” I approached him, politely waving and smiling broadly.

“Good morning,” he answered cautiously. “May I help you?”

“Yes, actually. My father recently passed away, and I think he sent a copy of his will to be stored in the records room. I was wondering if you or another scribe would be able to retrieve it. I’d very much appreciate it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you.” The scribe went back to his work. “All matters unrelated to the prince’s balls have been postponed until after he selects a bride unless it is a direct order from the king. You are, of course, welcome to petition to have it extracted from the records room after the conclusion of the balls. It’s only a week away.”

A week would be too late. “It shouldn’t take long, and I need it so I can renew my school’s license. Please?”

He gathered up his papers, clearly annoyed at my persistence. “My apologies, but the answer is no, and the records room is restricted to all but scribes and senior staff, all of whom are much too busy this week.”

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