2
Keltania
Two weeks later…
I push myself up off the bed and glance out my window. It’s still dark, but the estate will be waking soon. Things start early most days, but today…today is special.
Today has been a long time coming. The first coronation of a true Winter Monarch in over a thousand years.
In a few hours, Valen will officially accept the throne.
Rubbing my eyes, I sigh and kick my legs over the side of the too-large bed. When I first moved into the room, there was a normal queen-size mattress. Still too big, in my opinion—I miss my hammock under the stars in Lunal—but tolerable. I left the room for an hour, and when I returned, the queen-size bed had been replaced with an oversize king monstrosity and a simple note.
In case you want company
— V
I slide off the pillow-soft mattress and eye the large white box sitting on the table by the door. Valen had it delivered late last night, and I still haven’t looked inside. It’s some kind of dress for today’s coronation. I need to get it over with, but I had nightmares last night about what I’d find when I pried open the lid. Subtlety isn’t something Valen understands. It could be anything from a suit of see-through lace to a single ribbon meant to be strategically placed…
For all I know, it’s a wolf skin—his idea of an inside joke.
I start toward the box but only make it a few steps before there’s a soft knock on my door. “Valen…”
I yank open the door. He’s standing in the hallway, shirtless and barefoot, grinning like a mischievous child. His night-dark hair is chaotic, half in his eyes and half sticking up in every direction. His Heartbreaker sigil—now nothing more than a series of deep-blue lines inked over his heart—is on full display.
“Should you really be walking into my room looking like that?” I roll my eyes and push the door open, stepping to the side. “And aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?”
He strolls into the room and bounces down on the end of my bed. “What good is being monarch if I can’t make people wait for me?”
His tone is light, humorous, but I see the sadness beneath the mask. Valen never wanted this. Being the monarch of the Winter Lands, having all that power and responsibility, is something that those before him had killed for.
But Valen? He has no interest in power. Or the responsibility that comes with it. Still, here we are…about to make history.
“You’re not monarch yet,” I say, inching closer to the white box. I lift the corner, but it’s not far enough to see what’s inside.
Valen snorts. “Worried about my gift?”
He hops off the bed and comes over to drum his fingers against the cardboard for a moment, then yanks the lid off and pulls out a sweeping green-and-black gown. “Tradition says that people of the court dress in official Winter Court colors for a coronation. Blue and silver. But you’re someone who was meant to stand out. This is much more you .”
The dress is stunning. Elegant and soft and not at all what I expected.
He catches me staring.
“Ah-ha! You like it!”
“I don’t. It’s horrible,” I lie—but it’s pointless. He knows how I feel, just like I know he’s terrified of walking into that throne room today.
“You should be grateful,” he teases. “That dress is going to make you more interesting to look at than me. That’s a big sacrifice on my part.”
“I’d rather them all be looking at you. I shouldn’t even be there for anyone to look at. It’s only going to make things worse.”
The whole situation—Valen taking the throne, me having discovered my mentor was a traitor, the Fae of the Winter Lands finding out that the previous monarch had been manipulated and controlled like a puppet—the wounds are still raw.
My presence in the Winter Court is as complicated as my relationship with Valen, and my standing with the rest of the Winter Fae is even more so. Borderline volatile. Many of them don’t want me here. Some have even called for my banishment…or worse.
“It’s just some silly ceremony. A technicality.” He rolls his eyes. “For me, the real honor will be to have you standing there beside me.”
“Valen…”
I’ve tried to get him to reduce—and by reduce, I mean completely eliminate—my role in today’s ceremony, but he refused. He is the most stubborn being I’ve ever encountered. Publicly tethering himself to me puts him and his authority in jeopardy. He needs to do whatever he can to win the support and trust of his people. Instead, he seems intent on throwing me in their faces.
He drops the dress back into the box and pulls me close. This is against the rules—our rules—but still I relish the feel of him. “I know you dream about me,” he says.
“I think you’re confusing dreams and nightmares.” I lean in close and rest my head against his chest. His heart thunders, an uneven rhythm I know as well as I do my own. Sometimes, at night when I find it hard to sleep, I hear it inside my head. It syncs with mine, lulling me into a peace I find so rarely.
“Semantics,” he says, winding his arms around me. It’s far more comforting than it has any right to be, and I sigh. “How about I help you into that dress—then I could help you out of it again…”
And the spell is broken.
I pull away. Maybe I should be bitter that it always falls on me to be the strong one, but I’m not. I was raised to be the rock, the barrier. “You should go,” I tell him. “If someone sees you in here—”
“I’ll just say you’re hopelessly in love with me and I took mercy on you. We can call it a pity fu—”
“Valen,” I warn.
He sobers instantly. “Okay, okay. Seriously, though. I need you there today. You understand that, right?”
I nod.
He cups my cheek as if he’s going to pull me in for a kiss, but then withdraws his hand. I can’t tell if the disappointment I feel is his or mine…
“You are the only thing that can give me the strength I need to accept that crown today, Tania. You…and you alone.”
He slips from the room, closing the door softly behind him. I wait until I hear the door across the hall click closed, then wrap the wispy hem of the dress around my finger. The material is luxurious and soft, and a small part of me can’t wait to try the thing on. I, who have lived most of my life in training leathers with the handle of a blade practically fused to my hand, am looking forward to wearing a dress .
Even if I hated the dress, I’d wear it because of what it means to Valen. He needs my support today, and I’m going to give it—despite my reservations. I just pray it doesn’t make things worse…