Court of Winter (Fae of Snow & Ice, #1)(73)

And the snow. It was actually snowing inside.

Across the domed ceiling, vines of ice flowers curled and writhed. Their delicate buds of blue, navy, and turquoise sparkled like gems, and every few seconds, tufts of snow puffed from the flowers and swirled with the magic in the room that kept it warm while snow rained from above. But the warmth of the magic kept any of the snow from reaching the floor. It all evaporated about ten feet above one’s head.

I’d never seen anything like it.

“So beautiful,” I whispered.

The prince’s arm stiffened beneath mine. “My father does like to put on a good show.”

My gaze fell on the double doors at the end of the hall. A guard stood at each side, their bodies stiff and ramrod straight. Each door was made of blue ice and was so clear it was nearly translucent. The door handles, black with veins of silver, looked as if crafted from Isalee steel.

The prince gestured toward the ice doors. “The entrance to the throne room of the Court of Winter.”





CHAPTER 23





The prince’s skin warmed even more beneath my palm, and for a moment, he just stood there as though warring with something within himself. His expression was impossible to decipher, but the pounding strength of his aura nearly took my breath away.

“My prince?” I asked, frowning.

His chest rose in a deep breath, and then his arm was slipping around my waist, drawing me closer.

A zinging sensation shot through me at the feel of his large hand on my hip. I forced myself to ignore it as the prince’s powerful wing extended slightly to form a protective cage around me, and then he stepped forward and began leading me down the hall.

One of the ice doors abruptly opened, and a group of males spilled out.

There were four of them, and they were all talking and laughing as leminai in their goblets splashed over the sides. They grew silent when we neared.

Given their fine clothing and the casual way they held themselves—as though they didn’t have a care in the world—I knew they were members of the court.

“Prince Norivun?” one of them called. He looked young, perhaps my age, and had short white hair that curled slightly at the ends. Similar to the prince, he wore black leggings and boots, but his royal tunic was a deep red with embellishments—the color of the nobles from Osaravee Territory. Another male stood next to him with a trimmed beard and bright eyes. He also wore red.

“Who have you brought?” the bearded one asked with a sultry smile.

The prince’s fingers curled into my flesh. “Not of your concern, Sirus.” The prince didn’t stop walking and strode past them, his expression icy.

All four males bowed when we passed, but the one with slightly curly hair gave a flirtatious and knowing wink in my direction. Despite their questions, I was fairly certain they knew who I was.

A low growl came from the prince just as the two guards at the ice doors opened them with a flourish. We didn’t even slow as the prince breezed into the throne room.

A cool wind kissed my cheeks when we passed over the warded barrier, and my stomach dipped. Hundreds of nobles stood in the room, talking and laughing in small groups as music played and enchanted trays floated around the room carrying food and drink.

My breath sucked in at how beautiful everything was. Ribbons of silk draped across the ceiling as enchanted balls of ice hung suspended in the air. Puffs of snowflakes blew from the icy spheres even though the room was warm and dry. Similar to the grand walkway, all of the snow evaporated before it could touch any surface.

Ice sculptures decorated every corner, jewels sparkled from all of the females’ necks, and the males’ attire was just as dashing as Prince Norivun’s. And the music . . .

A symphony of sound strummed through the room in a haunting melody that made me want to dance and sway.

But before I could get too caught up in the atmosphere, a vibration of the prince’s power shot out of him. It washed over me, like a breeze that caressed my skin but didn’t chill. Even though his aura moved around me, the strength of it felt powerful.

Everyone standing in our direct path to the throne scattered out of the way, and a hush fell over the room as all eyes fell on the prince and then me. Only the haunting music continued, as enchanted harps, violins, and woodwinds played under magical fingers.

My heartbeat ticked faster and faster with each step that passed, but the prince didn’t slow. His strides ate up the room as the silence grew. Ahead, the king and queen waited.

Everyone watched us, as though we were puppets in a circus, and despite my hair color being hidden under the prince’s illusion, my wingless back wasn’t concealed. Whispers immediately erupted, from both the males and females, and a flush worked up my spine.

“That must be her.” A low tone from a female reached my ears. “They say he’s keeping her in his wing.”

“I heard she’s his courtesan.” A trill laugh followed.

“She’s certainly mouthwatering,” a male replied. “Despite her shaved wings.”

Another male snickered. “I’d hide her away too with a body like that.”

A warning growl came from the prince, low in his throat, and his eyes shot daggers at everyone talking behind fans and cupped hands. Those at the receiving end of his ire immediately quieted.

Ahead, King Novakin waited on his throne. Beside him, the prince’s mother, Queen Lissandra, sat silently.