Chapter 35
CHAPTER 35
LARA
A s we prepare to depart for the Ice Court the next morning, Madame Evangeny steps back to admire us.
“Beautiful,” she announces.
Once again, Izzy and I are dressed in blue and silver, beautiful new gowns carried in by Madame Evangeny’s minions. Izzy’s dress is silver with navy blue embroidery. Mine is once again Cinderella blue with silver embroidery.
“At least your dress matches—” Izzy begins to say, then glances at my wrists and gasps as she realizes the ribbons are gone. “Wait. What happened?”
“I thought it would be better if I got rid of them.”
She squints at me as if trying to ferret out some secret—but the last thing I want is to tell her what happened between me and Ivrael.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go do this.”
The duke escorts us down to the courtyard, and as we walk through the doors, I realize this may be the last moment I ever spend in Frost Manor.
The courtyard glitters with fresh snow as we step outside. An elaborate, blue-and-white coach stands ready, the six ice horses already harnessed to it stamping their translucent hooves, their manes rippling in the frigid breeze.
This isn’t like my previous journeys to and from Starfrost Manor—no more simple ice horses for direct transport.
No, this is a statement, a declaration of Ivrael’s status as one of the most important nobles in the realm.
Beside me, Izzy draws in a sharp breath.
“Damn,” she whispers, her eyes wide with wonder. I squeeze her hand, remembering my own first reactions to Ivrael’s magical creations.
“I wanted to come wish you good travels,” Adefina says from behind us.
“Oh!” I turn around and throw my arms around her soft form. She smells like fresh-baked bread.
“Now, now. None of that. I’ll be arriving at the palace my own self soon enough.” But she’s smiling, and her eyes are suspiciously bright.
Kila buzzes anxiously around my head. “I should go with you now! What if something happens? What if?—”
“You’ll be safer traveling with Adefina and the maids,” Ivrael interrupts, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ve arranged for another carriage to bring you all later today.”
“Promise you’ll wait for me?” Kila’s tiny voice wavers.
“Of course. I’ll always wait for you. Now go back inside before you freeze.”
Kila laughs and buzzes back over to Adefina. The raya is still fussing at the cook when they slip back around the side of the house, to the kitchen entrance.
Lucilline curtsies deeply. “Have a good journey, my ladies.”
Several footmen traipse out of the house carrying large chests, and Lucilline gasps. “Here, now. Be careful with that.”
The maid begins directing the footmen just as Rhaela moves toward Izzy with uncharacteristic hesitation. Their embrace is brief but charged with meaning, and I pretend not to notice how they linger just a moment too long.
“Lord Vazor.” Ivrael says as the firelord makes his way down the stairs. “You have my thanks.”
“And you have mine, Your Lordship.”
The two noblemen clasp hands briefly, and then both turn to look at me and Izzy appraisingly.
“Remember,” Lord Vazor addresses us, “at court, you’ve never met my daughters. The success of our plans depends on absolute discretion.”
“Of course, my lord.” The formal words feel strange on my tongue after everything we’ve shared.
“Right,” Izzy murmurs. The firelord glances between her and Rhaela.
“Don’t mind him.” Harai hugs me with surprising warmth. “As soon as we’re formally introduced at court, it can all go back to the way it is now.”
She and Rhaela move to stand with their father, though Rhaela and Izzy continue watching each other.
“Shoulders back,” Lady Uanna instructs sharply when I turn to say goodbye to her, as well. “Remember—every gesture, every breath must be perfect. The court watches everything.”
I straighten instinctively, and she nods once, apparently satisfied, before sweeping toward her own waiting carriage. She turns and gives Ivrael one long, hard look before she steps inside.
The courtyard erupts in a flurry of movement as everyone begins to depart. Carriages pull away, ice horses stamp and snort, final farewells echo off the manor walls. I remain rooted in place, watching the firelords and Uanna leave.
“Are you ready?” Ivrael’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. He stands by the coach door, one hand extended toward me. The golden sparks in his eyes seem to dance as he waits for my response.
My fingers tremble slightly as I place my hand in his. His skin burns cold against mine, and my core tightens at the touch.
As he helps me into the coach, his scent makes my pulse race.
Izzy follows, settling beside me on the plush velvet seat. Ivrael joins us, and the coach door closes.
The coach lurches forward, ice horses’ hooves crunching through the snow, then leaps into the air. My stomach drops as we soar upward.
Below us, Starfrost Manor shrinks until it looks like a dollhouse carved from ice, its windows gleaming.
It’s not long before Izzy is dozing beside me, her head resting against my shoulder. The events of the past few days have exhausted her, though she’d never admit it. I’m grateful for her steady warmth, even when everything else feels like it’s spinning out of control.
My gaze drifts to Ivrael. Golden sparks dance in his ice-blue eyes as he watches me, and heat floods my cheeks.
He’s not the monster I thought he was when he first bought me in the Trasqo Market. Not the heartless duke who threw me into his kitchens, who bound me with magic ribbons.
But he’s not Prince Charming either, no matter what fairy tale transformations he might undergo.
And I’m nobody’s princess.
The thought catches in my throat and lodges there.
Because that’s what he wants, isn’t it? Not just a princess, either, but a queen. Someone to help him save his dying world, to restore magic to this frozen realm.
Maybe even someone to love the monster he believes himself to be.
The carriage hits a pocket of turbulence, and my hand shoots out instinctively to steady myself. Ivrael catches it, his fingers burning cold against my skin. The contact sends electricity racing up my arm, and my breath catches as memories of this week flood back—his hands on my body, his mouth on mine, the way he made me feel both powerful and powerless all at once.
I pull away, wrapping my arms around myself.
That’s the real danger. Not his ice magic or his dragon form or even his political schemes.
The real danger is how easily he makes me forget everything else when he touches me.
How close I am to admitting that I love him.
Below us, the landscape stretches endlessly white, broken only by the shadows of mountains in the distance. We’re flying toward the Ice Court, toward whatever plots and plans await us there.
Toward a future I’m not sure I’m ready to face.
Because I’ve read the fairy tales—the real ones, not the sanitized versions. I know what happens to queens in those stories.
They’re always beautiful, always powerful.
Always evil.
Is that what waits for me at the end of this journey? Will I have to choose between becoming the villain or watching this entire world—this impossible, beautiful, terrible world—crumble into nothing?
I can still see the twin moons hanging in the sky, despite the morning sun. Their pull affects all magic here, Ivrael said. Makes it stronger, wilder, harder to control.
I flex my fingers, remembering how the ice responded to me in the maze. The power felt so natural, so right—like something that had always been part of me, just waiting to be awakened.
Like something monstrous waiting to emerge.
“What are you thinking?” Ivrael’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, low and intimate in the close confines of the carriage.
“I’m thinking about fairy tales,” I answer honestly. “About monsters and princes and queens.”
Understanding flickers across his face, both the aristocratic duke and the ice dragon shining through his features.
“Not all monsters remain monsters,” he says softly.
“And not all queens become villains?” I glance out the window again, watching frost patterns form on the glass. “But don’t they? Name one fairy tale queen who didn’t try to kill someone or curse an entire kingdom or?—”
“Perhaps it’s time for new stories,” he interrupts. “New endings.”
The hope in his voice makes my throat close.
I want to believe him. Want to believe we can write our own ending, find some way through this maze of politics and power and destiny.
But I remember the fire in his ballroom, the screams of the dying.
I’ve seen how easily power corrupts.
Know how quickly love can turn to poison.
Even the evil queens probably thought they were doing the right thing, once upon a time.
Izzy stirs against my shoulder, mumbling something in her sleep. I smooth her hair back, grateful for this moment of simple sisterly affection. This, at least, I understand. This, I know how to handle.
“I don’t want to be a queen,” I whisper, more to myself than Ivrael. “I don’t want to rule anything.”
“What do you want?”
The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with all the things we haven’t said. All the truths we’re both afraid to face.
I want to be free. Want to protect my sister. Want to find some way to save this world without losing myself in the process.
Want him , though I can barely admit it even to myself.
The ice horses pull us higher, their hooves striking sparks like starlight from the air.
We’re caught between the ground and the sky, between what was and what could be, between love and duty and power and fear.
Between fairy tale and reality.
And I still don’t know which is more dangerous—becoming the villain in this story or admitting that I’ve already fallen in love with the monster who was never supposed to be my prince.
The carriage soars onward, carrying us toward whatever awaits at the Ice Court.
Toward whatever I might become when we get there.
I just hope I recognize myself when the story ends.
L ove this book? Continue Lara and Ivrael’s story in Book 3 of the Empire of Frost and Flame series, The Alien’s Twisted Starglow Castle.