Page 43 of Frost and Death
The clusters of lanterns soar upward, illuminating the darkened purple night.
Niko holds my hand tight, and he leans in to kiss my cheek. The heat he naturally radiates lures me in.
We stand arm in arm as the lanterns soar higher and higher in the sky.
The crowd starts trickling into the main ballroom, and Niko turns to follow, but I hold him in place. “Just a little while longer.”
He says nothing as he faces the courtyard and observes the lanterns.
The ballroom entrances echo lively music and cheery laughter, and while many would want to join in the fun, I can’t seem to move from this spot.
Niko asks, “What did you wish for?”
I swat his hand. “Like I am going to tell you!”
He knows telling wishes is bad luck and surrenders with a boyish laugh. “Fine, fine. I thought husbands earned that right.”
“You’re not my husbandyet.”
“Yet.” He chuckles, earning a laugh from me.
A shiver shoots up my spine as I squeeze Niko’s hand.
He responds by huddling nearer, guiding me back into the ballroom. Heat bombards my pale skin when we pass through the threshold, and we are met by guests hovering nearby.
The entire ballroom is drenched in sheer black fabric, climbing up every pillar, across every wall, everywhere adorned with baby’s breath and white roses. The intertwining of darkness and light is a beautiful sight to see, and even everyone’s ensembles reflect the decorations.
Guests are dressed either in the darkest of hues or the palest, creating more contrast between Letum and Yeva. Many tilt glasses up, extending their salutations.
Niko and I bob our heads in gratitude, knowing that, while many appear to be happy, others who were potential choices glare through their masked happiness.
The power-hungry bastards, no doubt, as Niko would say.
Approaching the dais, I barely have a moment to sit down before Lord Ulrik approaches with a scowl. Like many of the guests tonight, he is dressed in warm fabric, but instead of opting for the colors of black or white for Letum and Yeva, he is adorned in a deep navy.
I grit my teeth through my false smile, knowing pleasantries with him are important with so many watching Niko and me now. Extending my hand forward, Lord Ulrik’s scowl alters briefly, the side of his lips ticking up when his dark-blue eyes meet mine.
He bows, kissing my knuckles as the stench of tobacco stings my nostrils, forcing me to clench every muscle to not gag.
Sweet Makers, I would take my menstrual pain from yesterday to avoid the headache his stench brings.
A small piece of hair falls from his blond slicked-back style when he rises. He runs a hand over it to smooth it into place, a grimace slipping when he gazes at Niko.
“Your Majesty,” Lord Ulrik drawls, his speech slurring from a few too many drinks. “I must offer my felicitations to you and your futurehusband.”
I swear to Yeva, if he wasn’t intoxicated, maybe he would not have verbalized his true feelings to my face.
But Lord Ulrik’s blue eyes darken as he looks between Niko and me. “Had I known you were going to choose someone that works with you so closely, I would have inserted myself into your good graces sooner.”
Niko inhales sharply as my blood heats.
Ulrik narrows his gaze at Niko, and all I can do is squeeze Niko’s hand as my own fury flares to life.
I cannot believe I almost considered him. He and so many other noblemen are the reason my entire kingdom knows of my powers and why they all whisper my nickname.
Niko opens his mouth, but I raise my hand, stopping him, remaining intent on my clash with Lord Ulrik. Whether he is drunk and whether he is a noble, I am not going to stand idly by, letting others think they can step over me and my future husband.
“Lord Ulrik,” I jeer, “had I not known you were so heavy on the drinks and tobacco, I might have given you a second glance.”
