A Prisoner to Spring by Brigid Collins

Author:Brigid Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: faery queen, magic, winter queen, modern heroine, modern day, faerie realm, WLW
Publisher: Frosty Owl Publishing
Published: 2022-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7: Tactics

Chelsea stood behind the privacy screen of the Winter Queen’s own dressing area and ran shaking hands over her stomach. She was getting some serious flashbacks to the moments in the dressing room in the venue of Jen and Danny’s wedding, right before she’d met her would-be captor for the first time.

A full-length mirror waited to Chelsea’s left, a long sheet of polished silver encased in black stone, which had been carved to look like a multitude of claws grasping it. She hadn’t looked into it yet, but with the clothes she’d been given, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist for long. Only one piece of fabric remained folded on the chair, waiting for her to put it on.

The antlered huntsman, Cintador, had exited the tent immediately to carry out the Winter Queen’s order, and Her Majesty had wasted no time in her explanations while Chelsea stood shivering in her sleepwear.

“The truth of the matter, whether either of us like it or not, is that we have between us an incomplete marriage bond. That is old magic, and as such is woven into the very fabric of the Faerie Realm. To defy such structure would make us no better than the verminous Storm Folk scratching their pitiful existence out on the edges of the sea. We cannot break what has already been built, but neither can we move forward with any sort of collaboration without resolving the bond in some way.”

“I already said I wouldn’t marry you,” Chelsea had put in. “How is becoming your consort any different than that?”

“The role of Court Consort is similar to that of Royal Bride, but there are differences. Most appealing to you, I would think, is the extra freedom provided to the Consort. If you were to become my bride, your full power would be unlocked, but it would belong entirely to me, to be used as I alone see fit, as you would be in line to inherit the throne. As Consort, you are barred from succession, and thus your powers are smaller, but they belong to you. You will be bound to use them in service to the Winter Court, but the choice on how you do so is yours.”

“The Consort is a protector of her Folk,” Miracelle had said softly, her eyes still shining. “Whereas the Bride is a storehouse and generator of magic and power for the court.”

“What’s more,” said the queen, “it is a... temporary position.”

At that, Chelsea’s brain had finally stopped its frantic running, which had prevented her from cutting in prior. “Temporary?” Saying the word had sent a lovely wave of relief washing over her. If there was light at the end of the tunnel, if she had the promise that she could return home again... “How temporary?”

The Winter Queen’s face had taken on a puckered set. “You will be free to return to the mortal world after one year, one cycling of the power of the courts.”

Chelsea’s jaw had dropped. “You want me to be your.

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