Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Your Majesty, perhaps now is the time to revisit the treaty we discussed—”
“My daughter is of age and would make a fine addition to your council—”
“I’ve already begun embroidering a swaddling blanket—just in case…”
Raveena kept walking. Her spine was straight, her mouth neutral, her eyes the glinting gray of a glacier. She made no promises. No denials. She simply nodded or offered a low hum of acknowledgment and let the crush of silk and whispers part before her like mist.
Inside, however, her thoughts spun. The moment Charming had made his proclamation, the women had turned like vines to sunlight. Desperate to graft themselves to what they assumed would be the next axis of power.
It was predictable. It was tedious. It was… disappointing.
There was no sport in their moves. No strategy. Just desperation and court polish.
Snow’s disappearance had brought a flicker of challenge. That move hadn’t been in Raveena's game book. It hadn’t even felt like one of the court’s ploys. Which meant it was something else entirely.
Raveena wanted to puzzle it out. Not Charming. Definitely not with these simpering diplomats following hot on her trail. She wanted Graham.
Graham, with his sharp mind, his grounded instincts. She wanted to feel his voice low in her ear while he pointed out clues others missed. Wanted his hands wrapped around her waist as they conspired over theories in the quiet of her chambers.
She was almost there. She was nearly free from the melee, just feet from the tall frostwood doors, when Lady Charming swept into her path like a silken scythe.
“My dear,” Lady Charming said, smiling so tightly her teeth clicked. “You must be overwhelmed. Such attention, and now my son’s beautiful declaration.”
Raveena tilted her head, expression still placid. “Declaration?”
Lady Charming’s smile grew pinched. “He’s chosen wisely. You’ll bring strength to the line. Of course, you’ll accept his proposal.”
Raveena let one brow arch. “Will I?”
Lady Charming blinked. “Of course. It’s the only path that lets you keep that crown on your head.”
“Is it?” Raveena asked, her voice velvet-wrapped steel.
The older woman’s mouth parted. Raveena moved past her before the retort could find breath. She didn’t get far.
A girl stood at the edge of the hallway—a young woman, perhaps just past her debut. Her gown was modest but expertly tailored. Her bearing was straight-backed, as though she had been raised in the presence of royalty. She didn’t curtsy. She didn’t smile.
Raveena was certain she'd never seen her in the Frost Court. But something about the girl held her attention. The stillness of her. The weight behind her gaze. A queen-in-waiting, no doubt.
The girl stepped forward and dipped her head. “Queen Raveena. I’m Princess Aurora."
Yes, she knew this girl. Aurora was the betrothed of Prince Phillip of the Forest Kingdom.
Or at least she had been. Raveena's spies in the Coastal Kingdom had sent her a missive that the sea, forest, and coast kingdoms were playing a rousing game of musical thrones.
When the music stopped, no one was with the bride or groom that had been prescribed to them.
And now one of the players was here in her court.
"I believe I may know where Snow White has gotten off to.”
“And how would you know that?”
Princess Aurora lifted a delicate hand, her fingers closing over the silver clasp of her cloak. “She sent me a letter. I have it in my carriage.”
Raveena studied her. The girl didn’t flinch. There was steel there. Ambition, to be sure.
Interesting.
Raveena gave a small nod. “Lead the way, Princess.”
She followed the girl out of the great hall, leaving the other women behind. The frost-touched doors closed behind them like the lid of a box snapping shut. Raveena exhaled.
"You made it here to the Frost Kingdom quickly with Snow's disappearance."
"We were passing through."
"We?"
Princess Aurora nodded but didn't elaborate. "I had started a correspondence with Snow some years ago. I thought I'd stop in and visit."
"How lovely."
The night was bitter. Shards of ice glittered on the stone walkways.
Frost crept in, branching patterns along the carriages lined up outside the Winter Court’s northern hall.
The scent of firewood and something fishy—seaweed, perhaps—clung faintly to the young princess, wafting back each time her cloak fluttered in the breeze.
Aurora turned, her face soft in the moonlight. “It’s just inside. I didn’t want to risk carrying it in, in case it was intercepted. I thought you would understand.”
Raveena did understand. Far too well. She did not climb into the carriage as instructed. “I’ve played this game too long to walk into a trap without knowing whose move it is.”
Aurora's polite smile didn't waver. But her eyes darkened ever so slightly. “You think I would trick you?”
“I think you’re not the innocent girl you pretend to be.”
"You're right about that. I lost my innocence years ago. As do most princesses slated to live a life not of her choosing."
"What is it that you want, Aurora?"
"What every girl wants. To love whom she chooses freely."
Funny. That was what Raveena wanted, too. That and her castle. She wanted Graham and her castle. This little girl was singing Raveena's tune.
No. That was someone else singing. The song was so sweet. So achingly beautiful, it bent Raveena to her knees.
The door to the carriage opened. A girl sat inside.
Her red curls were wild in the wind. Her lips parted in a melody that shimmered through the air like spun sugar and silk.
The notes wrapped around Raveena’s thoughts like warm hands.
She knew—knew—somewhere deep inside that she should cover her ears, turn away, run.
The music poured through her veins like honeyed wine. Her eyelids grew heavy. Her body swayed. And then she felt nothing but calm and sleepy as she stepped willingly into the carriage.