Page 54 of A Bride for the Winter King
Damian brings him into the conversation, and Seth jolts in surprise. “Jeez. That’s a strong cloak of shadow you got there,D. I must have walked right past you.” He rubs down his chin to mask a cringe, clearly spooked. “The others have remarked on your absence.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me, Lori?” Damian offers.
I nod with unwavering confidence. “Tell Nell I’m doing great. I’m going to get answers.”
Damian glowers at my sponsor, his fists balled at his sides. “If something happens to her, I’ll hold you personally responsible.” The Shadow King reluctantly spins on his heel, his eyes glued to Seth for a breath before he returns to the dining room, a patchwork of serpentine shadows hanging over his shoulders like a cape.
Seth arches a brow at Damian’s retreating back. “Wow. He’s grumpy today.” He stretches gingerly, clearly relieved to be rid of the Shadow King as he looks me up and down. “Are you alright? You look a little pale.”
“Do you know what the next challenge will be?” I ask quickly, pushing aside my fears and doubts in favor of more pressing matters.
“No, but it’s supposed to be brutal.”
My fingers curl around the flimsy edge of silk above my knee. “I’m ready.”
When I get back to the tent, the flaps seal behind me, and the girls all turn in my direction.
“What?”
“We’re all here, now. Read the card,” a Winter bride barks.
Wendy picks up the white, embossed invitation in the middle of the table and reads it aloud. “If you want to participate in the next challenge, you’ve got to renew your commitment to the Winter Court. There’s only eight of you, now. The winner of the pageant will marry the king and become queen. You might have come for fame, money, power, or immortality, but think longand hard about the consequences of your decision. If, and only if, you’re ready to continue, gulp down the blue elixir. If you wish to leave, you’ll be escorted back to the new world at once, never to return to Faerie.”
That’s a huge drawback. Most of the seeds here expect to work for the Spring Court if not chosen, the way I serve the Shadow King. Being exiled from Faerie forever is not an out many would choose, but I guess it’s still an out.
A new card appears on the table, and Daisy snatches it before the Winter brides can react. She licks her lips, the white, rectangular piece of paper fluttering in her grip. “Beware the dangers of the mountains. And each other. The ones who make it to the battlements of the Ice City before dawn will accompany the king on the last part of his journey before our return to court. The others”—her brows pull together—“will be left behind.”
“Left behind as ingo home,or left behind to freeze to death?” A Red asks.
Daisy grunts. “That’s the beauty of this competition, isn’t it? The mystery.”
The tiny blue vials contain about an ounce of liquid.
“What happens if we drink two? I’d happily keep that one out of the running,” Wendy says, but the veil of magic keeping us from seeing the cameras thins at her suggestion, and a forced chuckle dribbles out of her mouth. “Just kidding, of course.”
I offer her a wry grin and pick up one vial from the rack. “Cheers!” Tipping my head back, I swallow its contents without hesitation.
Almost as soon as the exaggerated “ha” leaves my lips, everything turns to shadows.
Chapter 21
Flickering Amber
ELIO
Up on the cliffs, the sacred city of the reapers towers above us.
“The Ice City was carved right out of the ridge of the extinct Birthstone’s caldera, the volcano that shaped the entire Fae continent. We can glimpse at its beauty from down here,” I explain.
I’ve never allowed the other monarchs so close to the root of my power. The safety and peace of my reapers is more important than PR opportunities, but I need to wow them today. Rumors reached my ears during brunch that my attempts to conceal the unruly weather that plagues my lands haven’t gone unnoticed.
I have to send my brethren home with a sense of awe if I am to erase the impression that my control over the glacier that runs underneath the snow is—for lack of a better word—melting.
“It’s magnificent,” Thera says. The Summer Queen’s eyes water. In all my years as Winter King, I’ve never seen her show emotion, and the sight throws me for a loop.
The leaders and citizens of the other realms—and especially the light Fae—hate me because of what I stand for. Evenimmortals fear death. Sicknesses and old age can’t claim them, but a rowan spear to the heart pretty much cancels any of them in the blink of an eye.
But not me, of course. For me, death will not come so easy.
