Page 85 of A Bride for the Winter King
“Dearest Sethanias…such coincidences don’t exist.” Freya waves her fan vigorously at her chest. “I knew you’d dug up the girl from some dark hole in the Shadowlands. One look at her was enough for me to know she had more thorns than all the roses in my court combined.” She turns her attention back to me. “So, Lori of Chicago. What happened on that mountain? They cut the feeds for minutes only to titillate us with one glimpse of the fleeing rebels…”
“I don’t think they stopped the broadcast on purpose,” Seth says.
Freya’s lips tense, revealing fine lines around her mouth. “Did I give you permission to interrupt?”
The prince’s purple gaze flies to the ground. “No, Ma’am.”
“I’ve heard rumors of revolutionists slipping through your father’s fingers and infiltrating the other courts, but none that were substantiated until last night…” She taps the tip of her folded fan to her bottom lip in a repetitive motion. “If an all-out war is about to break out, it wouldn’t hurt to have eyes and ears in Wintermere.”
Seth scoffs. “Lori’s not going to marry Elio?—”
“Why not? This year’s pageant might be the most important since our dear Iris died.” Her gaze softens as though she’s seeing her niece in my place. “Spider or not, you can’t go out there representing Spring in anything but the best.”
Freya twirls her decorative fan around, and my clothes unspool like a ball of wool.
A strapless black corset appears around my body, combined with a long white tulle skirt. Studded velvet roses are sewn into the bodice of the corset, and the laced up front smashes my breasts together to create more cleavage than I ever thought I had. A truly original, rockstar-chic confection, polished with shiny leather flats. The shoe’s black ribbons wrap around my ankles and make me feel like a naughty ballerina.
If I have to wear a dress, this one isn’t half bad.
“Go and claim your prize, mortal. But never forget who put you there.” There’s no mistaking the clearyou owe mein Freya’s tone.
My very own Scary Godmother.
She secures her mask back on and waltzes out through the mirror.
After her departure, I peel off my own mask and study my reflection. A thick, glossy side ponytail cascades down to my waist, and smoky eyes paired with dark, matte lipstick complete the look. If it weren’t for the sapphire mask in my hands, I wouldn’t recognize the woman in the mirror. I paw at the unfamiliar contours of the corset.
Seth lets out a low whistle. “Wow. You look gorgeous. Now, we can only hope that icicle selects you to win one of his precious apples, and you can sneak inside his tower after the broadcast to look for clues?—”
“Elio isn’t in leagues with Morrigan. Her spiders were there on the mountain, but he had no idea. If not for me, Elio would have been killed up there,” I blurt out.
“Something’s changed…” Seth narrows his eyes at me like he’s searching for something, and his jaw slacks. “Have you slept with him?”
“And what if I did?”
He shakes his head, over and over again. “No, Lori. You can’t marry him.”
A burst of heat engulfs me. “Was I supposed to fall for you in between brides? I’ve lost count of the girls you’ve fucked, Seth.”
“I—No! Damn you, Lori. We’refriends.”
I cross my arms over my corset, my legs jittery and restless. “Friends don’t throw jealous fits and judge each other for who they sleep with.”
“I’m scaredfor you.”
“Elio doesn’t kill his brides. It’s a curse…” I rationalize, but a small voice—perhaps the same voice who always pleaded with me never to stand out—agrees with him.
Seth holds out both arms in front of him in unequivocal dissent. “You’ve known him for what? Six days? That’s not enough history to risk your life, even if you think he’s innocent.”
Has it really only been six days?By Morpheus…What if some magic is speaking here, and not me? I haven’t worn my mask the last few days. Maybe the glitz and glamour of the Winter Court have drilled so deeply into my mortal brain that I can no longer tell death from candy.
“Morrigan’s spiders guarded the entrance to the mines, so whoever the Gray Man is, he’s in leagues with her. They’re the bad guys—not Elio.”
I might not be sure about the source of my feelings for him, but I’m sure of that.
“The Gray Man?”
“I think he’s the one leading the Tidecallers,” I say.
