Page 38 of A Bride for the Winter King
Rose becomes fodder for the dart game, and so the next hour goes, each task sillier than the last. Finally, the last member of each group, the one who never got picked by her peers to suffer the whims of the hosts, gets a turn around the ferris wheel with the king. But there’s no swinging gondolas in the cards for me. The thick, enchanted winter coat dries my clothes, and by the time everyone gathers back in the middle of the central plaza, I almost feel normal again.
Byron zooms toward Sarafina with a silk bag in his hands, and the woman claps her hands to get our attention. “Alright. Now that you’ve all had your fun, we’re ready to announce the carnival’s elimination challenge. Please rejoin your starting groups.”
Here we go again…I catch up with the girls and glare at the humongous teddy bear in Daisy’s arms. Of course, she had to win the ring toss challenge.
“Brides, welcome to the Snowhaven’s carnival kissing booth,” Paul announces.
Excited squeals rise from the audience, but my stomach sinks.
“A kissing booth? Seriously?” Daisy snickers.
“I’m with you.” I slither between Poppy and Rose to get a better look at what’s going on.
Cameras buzz in the four corners of the covered, open-air theater, poised to capture the next challenge from every angle to satisfy the public’s creepy fascination with social disasters.
Sarafina waits for the burst of whispers and nervous giggles to break before she continues with the rules. “Each of you will share a kiss with the king, and the viewers will vote for their favorite one.”
My teeth grit together. I mean—I expected a challenge of the sort—just not so soon, I guess. The Winter King would rather bite me than kiss me, so whatever happens next might ruin my chances to win over the public.
“Don’t think your previous encounters with the king will help you here. He’s going to be blindfolded and bound, so only the taste of your lips counts,” Paul adds.
Sarafina frowns at that, her gaze flying to Paul, but she quickly schools her expression back to neutral. “What a fun twist! A kiss for each bride, and blindfolded at that. What do you think is about to happen, Paul?”
Paul wiggles his bushy gray brows. “Whatever happens, you can’t accuse the king of playing favorites, that’s for sure.” He takes a dramatic pause before looking at the cameras. “The twelve women with the least votes will leave the competitiontonight.”
Sarafina chuckles. “Oh, I’m all for that, Paul. Twenty brides is still a ridiculous number to deal with.”
“Let’s see who can tempt our king into kissing them back, and who will have to say goodbye to him—and their dream of ever tasting a frost apple.” Paul rolls up his sleeves and loosens his tie like he’s about to march into a fight ring. “Here he is. The king is walking on stage as we speak, so if you’re cooking dinner or taking care of your little ones, this is your last warning.”
Elio walks onto the stage, indeed. With a rogue grin, he slips his feet out of his boots, tossing them one after the other over the edge. Barefoot on the wooden stage, his opened jacket showcasing his damn abs, he looks too enticing. But it’s nothing but a performance.
A spark of disdain curls his top lip as Sarafina ties the blindfold around his head. “Don’t cheat,” she says playfully.
Elio offers the crowd a fake smile in response. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The women around me laugh. Sarafina and Elio certainly make a lovable pair.Maybe they should get married instead.
We all draw a number from a velvet pouch. Number 18.Eek.
Twenty kisses. Twenty young women standing in line to impress a cold, soulless king. It’s not right.
I’m last of the Spring group. The quiet one is going right before me, while Poppy, Rose, and Daisy are in the middle of the pack.
I let my eyes glaze over and concentrate on anything besides the other girls kissing the Winter King. There’s nothing I can learn from their successes or mistakes, and if I am to be filmed and eliminated for being a bad kisser—so be it.
But quickly, a pattern emerges. Elio holds himself away from Poppy and Rose, giving them a boring peck on the lips and a quick boot. Meanwhile, the candidates from Wintermere and theRed Forest do significantly better, like the king can easily tell us apart.
Still… the tug of envy in my gut is annoying as hell, and the ball in my throat throbs when Daisy pushes her tongue inside his mouth. Elio reciprocates the kiss for half a second before he pulls away.
A satisfied smile stretches Daisy’s lips, and she blows the cameras a kiss as she hops off the stage. That girl knows her stuff.
I inch forward again, a handful of women still in front of me.
Wendy manages to keep her kiss going for a good minute, and the fire in my heart swells. I start unlacing my boots and slip out of them, looking anywhere but at Elio.
Two to go.
I peel the magic coat off and toss it to the ground. My damp hair frosts over, and I slick it behind my ears.
