At dinner, I droned on about how amazing the local shops were and the pretty brooch I’d gotten and was wearing. Marcelle smiled, complimenting the brooch and telling me how delighted he was that I loved Summer Court and was fitting into my role here.
We were just tucking into dessert when the temperature plummeted suddenly. The fire sputtered and Marcelle glanced at the servant with alarm.
The poor young boy added two more logs to the fire as he rubbed his hands together. I shivered, pulling my woolen cloak tighter around my shoulders.
Marcelle drummed his fingers along the table, looking at me. “I wonder, Madelynn, could you fight a cold freeze with your wind power? Push it back?”
Even mentioning such a thing, which would lead to taking off these cuffs, nearly made me weep with relief, but I had to play it calm.
I simply nodded. “Yes. I’m sure you heard that when Lucien lost control last time, my mother and I were able to protect my realm as best we could because of our wind power. We pushed the cold back somewhat. I was younger and my powers were not fully trained at that time. If he creates snow, I can push the flakes away from Summer Court and back to him. If he drops the temperature, I can move the clouds to expose the sun.”
Marcelle nodded. “That’s what I thought. But you could also peel the skin from my body, as you so aptly said before.”
Hades. He remembered.
I popped a piece of chocolate in my mouth and acted nonchalant. “I could. Just as you could probably light me on fire. I guess you’ll just need to trust me at some point, Marcelle. We are stuck together forever now.”
He stared at me keenly but said nothing more on the matter. I hoped I was playing my slightly pissed but resigned-to-be-his-wife-forever role well. It felt like he was so close to letting me free and seeing me as an ally. If it got colder, if Marcelle thought the Great Freeze was coming back, surely he’d take off these cuffs and let me save everyone.
We ate the rest of the meal in silence and I prayed to the Maker that Marcelle was considering freeing me. Would I push the cold back to save his people? Absolutely. They were innocents in all of this. But not before I killed him first.
“I’m tired and cold. I think I’ll retire to my room for the night,” I told him.
“Goodnight,” he said absentmindedly, watching the fire along the far wall and then looking at the frost covering the windows.
As I walked back to my room to withdraw for the night, I wondered if maybe I should hatch a backup plan. One where in the event that Marcelle never took off these cuffs, I could just flee this place. Being queen of the realm with bright red hair, I might be spotted, but with Birdie’s help in buying food and paying for inns, I might be able to get as far as the Winter border. It was the riskier option, and involved me speaking to Birdie about my plan, so I decided to save it. If by day six of being here Marcelle had not freed me, I would flee or die trying. All I knew was I couldn’t lay with him again. It wasn’t right what he did and I’d never forget it. I’d never be able to adjust here.
THE REST of the night passed slowly, and the temperature dropped. It was hovering around freezing, causing all of the flowers in the realm to wilt and look ill. The clouds had completely blotted out the sun and it was pitch black. I barely slept, tossing and turning as the chill slapped at my face and my fire attendant added log after log, waking me with the sounds of crackling wood.
By morning, I was grumpy and overtired. When I walked with Birdie to breakfast, I noticed Marcelle was gone.
“Eat with me?” I asked her, motioning that she sit down at the table. It was set for two, with a platter of food in the center, and a roaring fire.
She nodded enthusiastically and took a seat next to me. I wanted to keep my relationship with Birdie strong in case I did have to flee and needed her help. I sensed her loyalty to Marcelle wasn’t strong and she would stick by me, but I wasn’t sure.
“Where is Marcelle?” I asked. She seemed to know a lot of the ins and outs around here.
“The king was gone at sun up. Something about the war at the border,” she said.
The fact that Marcelle was now called a king bothered me greatly, but I was more focused on this war.
“Fighting each other.” I clucked my tongue in disapproval. “My grandmother would be beside herself.”
Birdie nodded, lowering her voice to a whisper even though we were alone. “My father thinks the fae should stick together. He voted against the separation.”
I felt relief at that, and wondered if now was a good time to educate Birdie on my backup plan. Looking around again to make sure we were still alone in the dining room, I leaned forward and peered right into her eyes. “Birdie, you know that Marcelle took me from Fall Court against my will and force bedded me to make our marriage legal, right?”
Her cheeks reddened. “He said your father agreed and that he paid a dowry.”
My fingers squeezed the fork I held as I tried to remain calm. “Technically yes, that is true. But he threatened to kill my mother and sister and paid the dowry to keep things legal.” I held up my cuffed hands. “I am a prisoner, Birdie. You know that, right?”
She dipped her head in shame. “I suppose so. Yes,” she finally admitted.
Good. I couldn’t have anyone in denial right now.
“I need you to know that if by the end of my ‘monthly bleeding,’ I have not been freed from here, I will run away.”
The words barely left my lips and her head bolted up, looking around frantically for listeners.
We were still alone. Doors closed. Fire roaring.
“But… Marcelle could find you.” She looked terrified.
I nodded, grasping her hand and holding her gaze. “What I’m telling you is that I would rather die than stay here and play wife and queen to that monster.”
She swallowed hard, and I watched the pulse in her neck sputter erratically.
She frowned. “Well, I don’t want you to die.”
That was good. I patted her hand. “Then when the time comes, if you assist in my breaking free from here, I will richly reward you.”
I would force my father to pay her whatever she wanted.
She looked over at me then, studying my face. “Did you love him?” she asked suddenly.
I was confused by her question for a second, thinking she meant Marcelle, but her use of the past tense let me know who she was talking about.
Lucien.
“Yes. My father and I gave Lucien my word that I would marry him. And then Marcelle took that from me. Forever.”
The finality of it killed me. Kings didn’t marry defiled women. Nor divorced. Nor widows. Or even a woman with a scandal to their name. You must be perfect to be queen and I was not. Even if Lucien wanted to still be with me, he couldn’t. It would tarnish his entire lineage and any children we had.
“That’s not right. I’m so sorry,” Birdie stated, and we ate the rest of our meal in silence.
I spent the afternoon rotating between walks in the garden with Birdie and reading in my room by the fire. It was positively frigid outside. A fine layer of snow had built up and wasn’t melting off. I knew Lucien could kill the entire Summer Court by freezing us all to death and he was holding back.
I had to hope it was because he didn’t want to hurt me.
THAT NIGHT, Marcelle was back from whatever frontline meeting he’d gone to. He had us served dinner right up next to the fire, but even so there was a chill in the air. It was as if Lucien’s power had the ability to penetrate walls and was seeking the palace. Oh how I wished I had full use of my power. Even without an open window I could move the air around a room. That’s usually what I used if I needed to break a window and then gain access to the unlimited air outside. I looked down at my cuffed wrists and frowned. Had I ever gone this long without using my power? We were encouraged growing up to use our power all the time because it helped us harness and control it. We would pass the salt at the dinner table with wind power or make paper flutter across the room. I was one of the most powerful fae alive and I’d been reduced to a dud.
Nothing.
I glared at Marcelle across the small table that had been set next to the fireplace as he tore into his stew like a slob. How he was raised a noble was beyond me. I hadn’t asked him about war news and he didn’t offer. I did not want to seem too eager to receive word about Lucien, but I was dying to know anything at all.
Marcelle’s head started to move upward to gaze at me and so I dropped the glare and gave him what I hoped was an inquisitive look.
“Would you like to share the bed tonight?” he asked. “It will keep us both warmer.” His eyes were hooded and I couldn’t help the small tic of my muscles in reaction, but I prayed he didn’t notice the visceral response my body was having to that question.
“I’m on my monthly.” I grabbed my stomach, feigning embarrassment.
Thank the Maker for Birdie and her great idea.
He inclined his head. “I know. It would just be to share warmth. I promise.”
No. No. No. Having him hold me all night long would drive me to insanity. I wanted to cut his manhood off for how crudely he’d taken my purity. My mother had told me that even in an arranged marriage the husband would be patient with the consummation, especially the first time. That it would be slightly awkward and might be over quickly but never rough or scary. Marcelle had scared me. He was too rough and what he’d done was wrong. I might not know a lot about lying with a man but I knew that. But I also needed out of here. I needed him to trust me enough to give me access to my power. Maybe this was how.
I had hesitated too long and now he was looking at me skeptically. I had to let a little bit of the truth leak into my answer or he would know I was lying. “You scared me with your eagerness when we… bedded. Excuse me for being nervous to be alone with you in bed. I’d never been with a man before, so I’m… shy and unsure how this part should unfold in a marriage.”
His face lightened and he reached out to take my hand. “I’m sorry I was too eager. I thought you would try to back out of the agreement and I just wanted it done. I’ll be slower next time and you’ll enjoy it.”
Unbridled rage built up inside of me then, mixed with nausea. He had no clue. I hated him. I wanted him dead. The thought of him touching me again made me grip the meat knife in my fist, but I forced myself to relax my fingers. “If it’s just to keep each other warm, I think I would like that,” I lied, trying to make my voice timid and not as murderous as I felt.
If he tried anything I wasn’t comfortable with, I’d just have to resort to trying to strangle him and hope that I was stronger than him in that moment.
I let out a yawn. “I’m tired now. I’ll retire to your room and you can join me later?”
I wanted to go in and pretend to sleep so that he couldn’t attempt anything more than keeping the bed warm.
He nodded, his eyes glittering. “I look forward to it.”
My heart hammered in my chest as I walked away from him. I was so angry at him, at myself for having to play this role. At my father. I was just so furious at everyone. Lucien would not have been forceful when we bedded. In fact, I knew he would not have pushed me to do it until I was ready. Grief welled up inside of me as I mourned a marriage and a lifetime that would never be. All the feelings I’d allowed myself to feel for the winter king had led to a deep love I didn’t expect in such a short time. Seeing how his father mistreated him just endeared me to him more. I’d envisioned a life in Winter Court as his wife and queen, and now that dream was dead.
When I got to my room, I reached up and touched my lips, remembering what it felt like to feel Lucien’s warm tongue in my mouth. That kind of passion was unlike any I’d ever felt before and I suspected ever would again. Definitely not with Marcelle.
Birdie entered the room a short while later holding a white nightgown. “I’ve been informed you will be sharing a bed with the king tonight?” She gave a nervous laugh. It must be a shock after our earlier conversation.
My gaze cut to hers and the laughter died in her throat.
“I’m surviving,” I told her.
Her lips pulled into a frown as she flicked her gaze to the floor. “Yes, my queen. I’m sorry.”
I stepped closer, reaching out to grasp her chin until she was looking up at me. “Don’t be sorry. Just know this about me: I will never be happily married to that man, no matter how much time I have to adjust.”
Her frown deepened as she looked genuinely sad for me. I wanted to drill this point home with her because she might end up being my greatest chance at escape.
“Then I will do whatever it takes to help you get out of here,” she said boldly, causing chills to race up my arms. “I was not raised to help keep prisoners. I am a lady-in-waiting to a queen and that means I put your best interests first.”
My throat clogged with emotion. I didn’t think she knew what it meant to me to have someone here that was on my side. “Thank you,” I managed.
She glanced behind her as if making sure the door was shut and we were still alone. “Maybe if we can get you out of here, you could go to the winter king, ask if he would take you back. I’m sure Marcelle could find another wife. All of the ladies like him…”
I barked out a sarcastic laugh, shocking us both. “Birdie, the winter king will not take a divorcee who has already given her purity to someone else. I’m a royal, we live under a different set of rules than you do.”
Her face fell and I hated that I was taking some of her innocence with this serious talk. She was clearly a hopeless romantic. “I just thought—”
“I’m damaged goods.” I yanked the dressing gown from her and then shut myself away in the washroom. Once the door was closed, I fell against it and a sob ripped from my throat.
I’m damaged goods. I’d never spoken truer words and the gloom cut into me like a knife.
