Page 82 of Frost and Death
I can’t stop myself from asking, “Why did he do that?”
Jonas throws me a smirk, telling me he isn’t speaking more on the topic.
Anxiety rushes into my bloodstream, gripping me and leaving me utterly confused. Jerrick is attractive, yes, and we are supposed to get married, but how will I be able to push through this relationship and make it seem realistic if I don’t understand the person I’m tied to?
Deities, I wish this never happened. I wish I was with Niko, already married, and thriving in the bliss of being with someone I wanted.
A small slither of frustration stems up from my gut, a clanging of incorrect keys banging on a piano and making me bristle. The Deities, my mother, and fate play a never-ending game of torture with me.
I sigh through the vexation clawing and digging at my chest.
What did I do to be thrown into such chaos?
I grumble as Jonas and I approach dual wooden doors stretching up to the ceiling of the main floor.
He reaches forward, opening the door and allowing my sight to behold a magnificent courtyard.
A rush of air escapes my lungs at the beauty of it.
The sides of the courtyard have pillars holding up sections of the castle, creating shaded areas to sit and enjoy the beauty of the plants. Rose bushes and lilies line the pathways with tall neatly trimmed hedges filling the gaps between them.
There are other entrances to the courtyard down each pathway, telling me this is a main focal point of the Mikkelson castle.
At the center of the area stands a water fountain of a man holding a woman in a tender embrace. Water trickles down the statue as we come closer, and my heart pulls, the sculpture reflecting what I wish for most.
Jonas and I pass the water fountain where Jerrick, a few household guards, Dorit, and an Alorian priest stand.
Jerrick wears a dark-blue jacket sewn with pearls that match my gown. The sides of his trousers are embroidered with silver, tucked into black boots.
Jerrick and the priest are speaking too quietly to make out what they are saying, and Dorit stands nearby, still in her magenta dress, greeting Jonas and me with a sweet smile.
I give her a nod in greeting, and she returns it with a small curtsy.
Jerrick silently meets my gaze, and my breath catches at the contrast of his blue eyes to his deep navy ensemble.
I do not know if I will ever get used to his sharp features.
His eyes scan me from head to toe, and it sends a wave of trepidation through my system, praying I look alright.
Jerrick extends his hand.
I look at it, begging my inner strength to ground me for what I am about to do.
On my wedding day to Niko, I was a mess of emotions, worrying and pacing so much that Betina had to give it to me straight. I couldn’t stop thinking about my parents or my sister, yet here I am with thoughts barely drifting to them.
Am I still in shock? Deities, what if this all goes to shit? What if this is all a trick and it’s going to backfire?
Chills erupt across my skin, and I find myself gripping onto the safety of Jonas’s elbow.
Jonas grabs my hand, squeezing it gently and leaning in to whisper, “It will be alright.”
I clench my jaw, fearful of saying anything that could make my predicament worse.
Jonas unhooks my hand from his elbow and places it into Jerrick’s, then removes the train of my gown, fanning it out across the pebbled ground.
Touching Jerrick burns at first, an odd sensation streaming up my arm and down to my core. I look at Jonas for reassurance and am met with an encouraging smile.
I swallow down my fears as I meet Jerrick’s gaze once again.
