Page 9 of Fated to the Frost King

“Everly, grab your things,” Wynnie ordered, waiting only a single heartbeat before using her own mana to tug the garment toward us on a stream of air.

It was a familiar game we played as children, just often enough to keep the estate staff from growing overly suspicious.

The maid released the gown reluctantly, her face chalky with fury as she stalked to a chair in the corner of the room while we ducked behind the dressing curtain.

“Where are Yorrick and Father anyway?” I asked my sister, trying to distract us both from the glowering presence and the general weight of my impending demise.

She made a face as she draped my gown over the divider and rested the box on the dresser. “Oh, I left the old goats outside,” she muttered while deftly undoing my laces.

She had never forgiven my father for forbidding me to attend her wedding, nor her husband for supporting that decision.

It made me unreasonably sad, taking off the dress she had painstakingly altered for me over the past two days—while the males had been sullen about the fabric slipping over into their side of the sledge, of course.

“I would have liked to have gotten married in your gown,” I told her with a small smile, watching the lace pool on the floor. “Harbinger of marital doom or not.”

Not that I ever believed I would marry at all. Even in the unlikely event someone was willing to marry a bastard, the risk of exposure would have been too great.

Still, it would have been a comfort today. I heard her swallow.

“You still can,” she said under her breath. “I’m sure we could get it cleaned up. Or, you know, there might be other options.”

She still wanted to believe I could just say no and walk away, evidence that she hadn’t spent nearly enough time at court to witness the things I had today. I didn't want to tell her, to worry her more than she already was, so I only shook my head, silently unstrapping the sheath to my dagger.

It was even harder to part with than the dress, my last fragile hope of protection, what little it would do against the king.

If these were the queen’s suites, at least I would be back at some point...assuming I made it through the ceremony at all. I stashed it in the small cabinet, and Wynnie coughed to cover the sound of it closing.

Then I raised my hands for the new gown, accepting the inevitability. Like everything else in my life, this marriage wasn’t optional, and neither was my outfit.

The dress settled around my shoulders, somehow confining though the fabric was lighter than spun silk. It hugged my body like a glove—frostwyrm silk, worth more than every piece of opulent furniture in the room combined. Utterly wasted on the day that would ruin my life, or end it.

Wynnie tied the laces before opening the silver box to find more diamonds than I had ever seen in my life. Earrings, bracelets, a necklace, and, even worse, a crown.

It was common for courtiers to wear decorative circlets, but this was different. Heavier, both with the weight of the sparkling gemstones that clung to each arch and for what it represented.

Once she was finished pinning the crown into my braids and helping with the jewelry, she tilted me toward a long mirror to see the results.

I didn’t want to see any of it. Not the gown, or the artful way she’d braided my hair this morning, or the diamond necklace that coiled around my neck like an ever-tightening noose. And I especially didn’t want to see the crown.

All I wanted was to wake up from this nightmare.

I balled my hands into fists, and she gently covered them with her own, putting her head on my shoulder. “There is always hope, Evy. Don’t let him take that from you.”

Hope. I wanted to believe that, too, but she hadn’t felt the power that spilled over in the throne room. I looked to the mirror at last, just long enough for my crystal blue eyes to meet hers.

“I wish that were true, Wynnie, but there is no defying the Frostgrave King.”

Chapter 4

Everly

It was harder than it should have been to let go of my sister’s hand when the guards came to escort me to the tower. Only the realization that she would be safer gone allowed me to pry my numb fingers from hers.

My gaze bored into hers, reminding her of my only request.Leave before the ceremony.She swallowed before giving me a single resolute dip of her chin.

She would go. She would hate me for it a little, but she would do it because I asked. Her eyes glossed over with tears as she hugged me one last time before tearing herself away.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. This was for the best. It was. Because no matter what happened, she wouldn’t be in the king’s immediate wrath.

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