Page 80 of Embers in the Snow

I can’t wear those. They’re too extravagant; too precious. Just one of these earrings would be worth more than Dorava’s entire jewelry collection. It’s probably worth more than father’s entire fortune in gold.

But…

Theyarebeautiful. And they would match my outfit perfectly. If I were to stand beside Corvan wearing these, we would be resplendent.

I pick up one of the earrings and hold it up, allowing the ruby to dangle. The light bounces off its exquisite surface, giving off hues of fire and blood.

Gerent’s words ring in my memory.

Wear what you like.

My fingers tremble as I slip the hook through my earlobe, tilting my head to admire the ruby.

As I put on the other earring, I feel a great weight slipping off me.

You’re free of Ruen now.

I keep replaying it in my head. When father hit me, Kaithar slammed him to the ground.

He protected me.

Then Corvan was there, and nothing else mattered.

He didn’t even hesitate. He used his power and locked my father in the dungeon.

Then he took what he wanted—me.

The fluttering in my chest grows wilder. Corvan Duthriss is a walking contradiction, far more complex than any rumor could convey. He’s certainly capable of ruthlessness. But on the other hand, he can be impossibly gentle and considerate.

And it’s becoming clear to me that this betrothal I was dreading is so very different to what I’d feared.

25

FINLEY

The Great Hall of Tyron Castle is magnificent. Entering it for the first time, I can’t help but feel a sense of awe.

I look up at the soaring ceiling, which is buttressed by carved wooden beams. A pair of ornate wood and iron chandeliers hang from above, each adorned with hundreds of glowing candles. Gas lamps sit in sconces along the wall, suffusing the entire hall with a bright glow.

Through tall, arched windows, I see the winter landscape. Snow-blanketed hills dotted with stately pines are bathed in hues of orange and pink as the sun sets.

Part of the hall has been transformed into an arena of sorts, with mats of woven reed arranged on the floor to form a large square. Long tables and benches sit opposite, draped in pristine white tablecloths. Verdant pine boughs, holly branches adorned with gleaming red berries, and pinecones are arranged around tall white candles in silver holders.

The places are set, the crystal glasses gleaming, the cutlery polished.

“Whoa,” Kastel exclaims. “And here I thought Tyron was just a remote mountain province with nothing much going for it. Just a big old stone castle and a crazy archduke in exile and a bunch of bitter soldiers. Who would’ve thought they could put on a fancy spread like this?”

“Kastel,”I chide, not knowing if Corvan is nearby. With his unique powers, I wouldn’t be surprised if he can hear a whisper in a crowded room. “You can’t disrespect a lord in his own castle. We’ve been treated with nothing but decency ever since we arrived. If it wasn’t for the archduke, Aderick wouldn’t have…”

I glance down at my other brother, sitting in an invalid’s chair made of woven cane and timber and metal. The large wheels creak as Garan pushes him across the floor. He’s recovering remarkably well. The color has returned to his face. Vinciel prescribed him a purple syrup that takes away most of his pain, allowing him to walk short distances without assistance.

The boys’ eyes are wide as they take in the grandeur.

“Rick,” I say gently. “You all right?”

My very own brother, baby-faced and blue-eyed, golden-haired and so handsome he’s broken a few hearts already, gives me a bittersweet smile. “I’m fine, Fin. Just sorry we didn’t get to you in time. Sorry you have to go through with all of this. Thinking back on it all now… I don’t know how I didn’t see it. It’s as if a blindfold’s been taken off.”

“See what?”

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