Bride of the Winter King Copy by Rose Holly

Author:Rose, Holly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Spark Press
Published: 2022-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

seventeen

It takes us barely more than five minutes to fly back to the Crystal Palace. Though the Winter King has proven more powerful than I ever imagined and Father is now his prisoner, I momentarily shed my worries and instead let myself enjoy the view. The trees slope down the mountain in a lush sea of pine needles, their tips powdered with snow. The Crystal Palace looks like a toy sculpture from this height, its walls glittering in the moonlight.

When I was younger, I used to spend much time lying in the grass and staring up at the birds soaring high above, wondering how they perceived the world below. Even the tallest oak in our garden was only as high as our manor. Now I finally see that the world is smaller than I ever imagined, and that I am even smaller still.

It feels too soon that we descend. The Winter King directs his steed toward the Crystal Palace’s central courtyard. The square is teeming with guards, and they all clear the center as we land in their midst. None look surprised by the Winter King’s winged steed and must have seen such feats countless times before.

The Winter King dismounts and the icy steed vanishes into the night, along with the caged sleigh around Father and me, leaving us kneeling on the frosted cobblestones. Our shackles are intact, though.

“Take him to the dungeons,” the Winter King says to his guards, gesturing to Father.

The guards march forth and drag Father to his feet, pulling him away.

“No.” I bolt upright, though the shackles binding my arms to my torso make it a struggle. Pain burns through my left knee. I didn’t realize I hurt it this badly when I threw myself from Father’s horse. Until now, adrenaline must have been numbing the pain.

My single word commands more power than I expect, since the guards halt halfway across the courtyard. They look to the Winter King for guidance.

“Take him,” is all he says.

My fists tense as I watch them continue leading Father away. I could argue with the Winter King and demand for him to release Father, but I can’t risk angering him any more. Not when Father’s life is in his hands.

I force my fists to relax, though they resist.

When Father and the guards are gone and it’s just the two of us standing out here in the cold night, I dare to ask, “How long will you keep him as your prisoner?” I don’t look at the Winter King as I speak.

“As long as I must.”

Those icy words cause me to whirl around, barely contained fury blazing in my eyes. “And what of me?” I demand, my lip curling. “Will you also have me thrown into your dungeons?”

“No,” the Winter King says quietly, his voice soft against the evening breeze. “You are my queen, not my prisoner. The dungeons are no place for you.”

I can’t help the bitter laugh which escapes me. “I’m not your prisoner?” I repeat, shrugging my shoulders in an attempt to move the shackles around my chest.

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