Chapter 89 Rosalina
Rosalina
“Marigold,” I say sternly, “you’re going to ruin your makeup.”
Marigold dabs at the corner of her eye with a handkerchief. “It’s only you look so beautiful. Winter has never been so grand. Though I could kill that Keldarion for only giving me a single afternoon to plan a wedding!”
“You did an amazing job.”
“Of course I did.” Marigold gives me a lavish grin.
I’m standing with her behind the broken gates of Keep Wolfhelm. Shattered pieces of the ice wall lie around us like the ruins of a long-fallen kingdom. A light dusting of snow falls from pillow-white clouds. I smooth out my dress.
My dress.
With being proposed to and having a wedding on the same day, I was more than expecting to pick out something white-ish from my wardrobe.
But of course, Flavia, the official seamstress of Castletree, would not have that.
I run my gloved hand down my gown. Tiny crystal embellishments catch under my fingers.
The bodice shimmers as if she somehow stitched starlight into the fabric.
The full skirt tumbles down in rich layers of white.
I spot my reflection in a piece of the ice wall beside me, fractured and faint but enough to make me pause.
I have no idea how Flavia pulled this off, but I have never felt more like a princess than I do right now.
The cape she added at the last minute—to protect me from the horrid Winter weather—drapes over my shoulders, pale blue as the morning sky after a storm.
Silver embroidery winds like frost on a windowpane.
The clasp at my throat, a single snowflake made of crystal, glints in the afternoon light, sending small rainbows across the frozen surface.
Beneath it, I wear a diamond necklace, the one Keldarion gifted me during my first ball in Winter. Back then, I had no idea he was my mate or how deeply his affection already ran.
I take a deep breath, the cold air sharp in my lungs.
“I can’t believe I’m getting married,” I murmur, my words forming a thin puff of white mist. It feels strange to see myself like this, draped in such finery, regal and composed.
I’m so far from the girl in a long sweater working at a bookstore, looking out at the rain.
I never belonged in Orca Cove, not really. I felt so out of place in that world. But here, I truly belong.
This is where I’m meant to be.
“I should take my seat now, dearie,” Marigold says, then she reaches into the deep pocket of her apron and pulls out a small white hare. “Astrid wishes you a very happy wedding.”
Lip trembling, I give the little rabbit a pat on the top of her head. “You’ll be better soon, my friend,” I whisper. “I promise. I just have to take a walk while all of Winter stares at me.”
“Don’t be nervous. You’re dazzling, dearie! Like someone bottled the aurora borealis and poured it over you. If I were snow, I’d melt looking at you.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “Thanks, Marigold.”
“And it’s not just you who looks good.” Marigold smirks and waggles her brow. “Mr. O’Connell is a vision. No wonder you’re gorgeous. Look at him. Here I was, thinking Winter was cold, but you two are warming it up.”
“Okay, okay, Marigold,” I giggle and throw my arms around her.
She trots away, and I turn to where her gaze had landed.
My father walks down the steps of Keep Wolfhelm.
His brown-gray hair is slicked away from his face, and he’s wearing a whole suit, with tails and a cravat.
The fabric is deep blue with golden embroidery, and at his breast is pinned a sapphire rose.
Tears prick my eyes, but I swallow them down.
He stops a few paces from me and seems to be holding back his own tears. “My girl.”
“Papa.”
He embraces me in a hug. “You look beautiful, Rose.”
I hold him tight, so grateful he’s with me. After everything we’ve been through, all the trials, we’re together. But there’s still a part of me that aches. “I wish Mom was here.”
Papa rubs my back. “You can tell her all about it when you see her.” He pulls away and gives me a wry smile. “Plus, don’t you have four other mates? She can attend those weddings.”
I’m unable to hold in my laugh when the music begins. It’s a delicate melody that curls through the air. My breath catches, and my heart thrums in time with the song.
“That’s our cue.” Papa holds out his arm.
I take it. It’s really time.
With my free hand, I clutch my bouquet—roses, pale as snow. The melody deepens, rich and full, tugging on something deep in my chest. It’s so familiar, so achingly beautiful.
I take one step forward. My gown whispers along the ground, heavy cape dragging behind me. As we step out from the gates, I see the streets are packed with people.
Keldarion announced the wedding as soon as we returned from the woods, an open invitation to all of Winter. The two of us would be married in the town square, in the same place we held the Festival of Tales.
I thought a few people may attend, that we’d get a slight crowd. But I can barely even see the cobblestone as everyone gathers.
“There are so many people, Papa,” I whisper.
“Chin up, Rose. They’re here for their princess. The one I’ve known you are my whole life.”
I swallow a lump in my throat and will my feet forward.
A cheer rises as we walk, and I hear my name being called.
“Rosalina! Rosalina!”
“Golden Rose!”
“Princess of Winter!”
They throw what I at first think are snowballs into the air. But then they break apart into sparkling fractals, tumbling before us like fallen stars. The path winds deeper into Frostfang, and the town square comes into view.
Every eye is on me, but I see only him.
Keldarion stands beneath a glittering arch of ice and frost that shimmers in the pale afternoon light.
The sight of him steals my breath, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away.
His dark blue cloak billows in the breeze, the thick fur mantle draped over his shoulders making him look like the prince he is. The king he may one day be at my side.
As I take a step closer, my heart pounds against my ribs. His gaze meets mine, so intense, I feel as if I’ll float into the clouds. I’ve seen him in armor, the rugged furs of a warrior, and the solemn attire of a diplomat, but this—this is different.
He is a vision, a fae prince forged from Winter itself. Not for the first time, I understand why the Winter Realm would follow him without question—why I would follow him to the ends of the earth. My steps falter, just slightly, as the sheer magnitude of the moment washes over me.
He tilts his head, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips as though he knows what I’m thinking.
The melody rises, carrying me forward, and I walk into it. Into him. Into forever.
Seats line the path before the crystal archway, which rests on a raised wooden platform.
Papa and I walk down the aisle. I recognize many of the people of Frostfang, but also many of Castletree’s staff are here.
Marigold told me the entire castle was beside themselves when she announced the wedding was taking place, and everyone helped, from creating the decorations that line the city square to cooking a celebratory feast that can be enjoyed by all of Frostfang.
“It’s what family does,” she said with a smile.
I can’t hold back the tears that gather in my eyes as I see her sitting in the front row, Astrid in her lap. My gaze sweeps to the rest of my family, standing proudly beside Keldarion. Ezryn, Dayton, and Farron, all dressed in Winter finery with frosted roses on their lapels.
Ezryn tilts his head. Watch your step, Petal, he says in my mind.
Papa clutches my arm as we reach the bottom steps of the platform, and I can’t help but grin at Ez.
A soft smile brushes Day’s face as he looks at me, and when my gaze settles on Farron, a single tear runs down his cheek.
“Ready, Rose?” my father asks.
“Yes.”
Papa lowers his voice. “Who knew when I took that beast’s rose all that time ago, one day, he would take my Rose.”
“You’re not losing me, Papa,” I whisper.
“My brave, beautiful Rose. Happy wedding day. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I hug my father, then hand him my bouquet and ascend the steps of the dais.
Keldarion’s eyes crinkle as he looks at me, glistening with tears. “Rose, you are…”
“So are you.”
Eldor strides out from the side of the platform, dressed in flowing blue robes with a book in his hands.
He smooths back his wheat-blond hair and addresses the crowd.
“Fae of Winter and visitors from across the realms, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of High Prince Keldarion of Winter and Princess Rosalina O’Connell, heir to the Enchanted Vale. ”
A breathy laugh pours out of me as Eldor continues the ceremony. Having never been to a fae wedding, I can’t say for certain, but I do believe they added human elements for me.
By the time we get to the vows, Marigold is sobbing, poor Astrid on her lap soaked with tears.
“Rosalina,” Eldor says and gestures to me.
I look up at Keldarion. “Kel, you are brave and protective. I felt safe for the first time in my life because of you. All my life, I’ve read thousands of tales of wonder and enchantment and love, but none of them can ever compare to our love story.”
Tears glisten in his eyes, and he reaches out to grip my hands, rubbing the soft fabric of my gloves with his thumb.
“Rosalina, the stars have blessed me with the honor of being your mate. You who, with your beautiful kindness, has saved not only me but all the realms. Rosalina, my Rose, my heart is yours evermore.”
“Oh, oh,” Eldy says, lip quivering. “The rings!”
“Right.” There’s a slight clattering of armor as Ezryn steps forward. He holds a navy box. “There wasn’t much time. This was the best I could do.”
“Ezryn.” I touch his arm.
This seems to calm him, and he exhales and opens the box.
Two rings sit on a plush bed. The first ring steals my breath.
The band is silver, delicate yet strong, twined with tiny vines and blossoms. Snowflakes are etched into the metal, each one holding a small, glimmering stone, like frost kissed by starlight.
Beside them, two roses bloom—red as blood, red as love—cradled in the leaves.
But it’s the center stone that steals my breath. A marquise cut gem, gleaming as though it holds the twilight sky itself. The jewel shifts between midnight and sapphire every time it catches the light. It feels as though the stone could swallow me whole, a fragment of eternity bound in silver.
The second ring is broader but no less elegant, its silver band infused with deep, swirling streaks of icy blue that glint with the heart of a glacier.
Ezryn tilts the rings, and they catch the light, scattering soft prisms of color across my white dress. “Crafted by my hand in Frostfang’s grand Everburn Forge,” he says. “Bound by frost, strength, and eternity. For my brother and his mate.”
“They’re beautiful,” I say.
“A gift I shall never forget.” Keldarion squeezes Ezryn’s shoulder.
“It was my deepest honor. Truly.”
Keldarion takes the delicate snowflake ring and slips it on my finger. It fits perfectly, right beside his one made of ice.
“I, Keldarion, High Prince of Winter, take you, Rosalina O’Connell, as my wife, to stand with you through every storm and every still night. I promise to protect you and cherish you with all my heart. From this day forward, my soul is yours, as eternal as the ice below and the stars above.”
My heart shudders at his words, and I pluck the second ring from the box. Ezryn nods and steps back behind Kel. Gently, I slide the ring onto his finger and keep holding his hand.
“I, Rosalina O’Connell, take you, Keldarion, as my husband, to be your strength when the briars grow thick and your light when shadows fall.
I promise to love you with the fierceness of thorns and the softness of petals, to guard your heart as carefully as a briar patch shelters its bloom.
From this day forward, my love will be eternal, growing through every season. ”
Eldor’s voice is a high whimper, tears streaming over his mustache. “Now you may kiss the bride.”
“Finally.” A roguish grin appears on Keldarion’s face. His large hand cups my back, drawing me to his chest.
I’m lost in his embrace. The rest of the world falls away, and there’s only the snow drifting around us.
He drops his forehead to mine. “You are beautiful, my Rose.”
I touch his jaw, a smile blooming on my face. “I’m so happy, Kel.”
“As am I.”
He guides my lips up to his. The soft press of his mouth washes over me like a tempest, and I am lost in the flurry of this moment.
I stand on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His hand is strong on my waist as he dips me back, my hair spilling over my shoulders and almost touching the ground.
Distantly, as if through a haze, I hear the cheers of the crowd, the delighted laughs and hollers of my mates, but I have descended into a Winter storm and have no desire to leave.
Keldarion draws me up, lifting me into his arms, and all at once, I am every bit a piece of him as he is of me—I’m the frost on the awning, the snowflakes fluttering in the wind, the blizzard brewing high in the sky.
We break apart, gasping for air, but he keeps me close, still determined to have this moment just between us. The broadest smile I’ve ever seen spreads across his face.
“I love you, Rosalina, Princess of Winter.”
“I love you too, Keldarion, Prince of Castletree.”
We turn to the crowd, all of them on their feet, cheering and tossing glittering snowballs into the air.
Even if I only get my happily ever after for one night, I will cherish every moment.