Thorns of Frost (Fae of Snow & Ice, #2)(3)
My gut churned, and not from my magic.
Cailis’s scowl grew, but then the last bit of Sir Featherton’s explanation seeped into my brain.
I sat up straighter. “So if I lose the Trial, I won’t marry Prince Norivun, and I’ll be free of any obligations to him?” A huge rush of relief swept through me. That seemed easy enough. I would simply make sure I lost the Trial.
Cailis exhaled, and we both shared a side-eye.
Sir Featherton’s lips thinned. “No, my lady. If you lose, you shall marry another of the king’s choosing. Throughout the Trial, other naturally blessed nobles will also be courting you.”
My jaw felt as though it dropped to the floor.
Cailis’s eyebrows rose as her wings flexed. “So you’re saying that Ilara will be forced into an arranged marriage no matter what?”
Sir Featherton gave a curt nod. “Correct. It’s the king’s orders.”
“But why?” I asked, trying to keep the panic from my voice. “Why must I marry someone the king chooses?”
Sir Featherton arched an eyebrow. “The king has resurrected an ancient tradition among the Solis in order to further advance our race. He’s decided it’s in the best interest of our continent to enact the Olirum Accords.”
“Olirum Accords?” The only Olirum reference I knew of was a celestial event. “Is it related to the Eve of Olirum, the annual celestial event when the northernmost star shines its brightest?”
Sir Featherton canted his head. “Indeed, but if you paid attention during your history studies in secondary school, that eve also used to be a time when the territories’ elite were engaged. It was a time of great celebration. The most powerful children of each territory were married to fae of a neighboring territory to spread the Solis magic and further advance our race’s power. It was a time of very strategic matchmaking and led to the great Solis nation we are today.”
I shook my head, racking my brain for what I could remember of our history. “But that tradition ended over a thousand winters ago when it was deemed archaic and barbaric, right?”
The Trial archon’s nostrils flared. “Only some viewed it that way. Others saw it as weakness on Lord Nifilim’s part—Prince Norivun’s grandfather, who ruled Prinavee Territory nearly twelve hundred winters ago. He only banished the tradition since he was trying to appease the masses who were rebelling against such control.”
My heart pounded as I tried to recall more of our continent’s history. I knew some of it from primary school, but my education had been stunted as a field laborer, and I’d never taken an interest in the court.
Until coming to Solisarium over a month ago, I hadn’t really cared about royal politics or history. It’d been so far removed from my life in Mervalee Territory that it hadn’t affected me.
But now those courtly politics were dictating my life.
Trying to calm my breathing, I said, “But what purpose could the Olirum Accords possibly serve now? That tradition was practiced during a time when the territories weren’t united. Now they are. We have one king and one rule. What advantage could they possibly have?”
“True, King Novakin united us all, but that doesn’t mean our race still can’t advance.” Sir Featherton inclined his head toward the courtyard—the courtyard that I had restored to life. “The king wants to ensure the Solis are the superior fae race in our realm. Breeding powerful fae will help grant that.”
I scowled, but I didn’t know why I was so shocked. None of this should have been surprising, given what I’d learned of the king. He’d forced Queen Lissandra to marry him because she held five affinities—something I’d never heard of any female possessing. And the son they’d birthed together, the crown prince, held six affinities. Prince Norivun was the most powerful fairy on the continent.
Now, the king apparently wanted to replicate that power. With dozens of fae as strong as Prince Norivun, our race would be unstoppable. Not even the powerful Nolus—the fae race residing on the continent south of us—would be able to stop us if war broke out.
I leaned back into my pillows as a million thoughts raced through my mind. Just last night, Michas Crimsonale, Lord Crimsonale’s oldest son, had told me that there’d been hushed talk of invading the Nolus continent. Their climate was warmer and would ensure we were all fed since they didn’t need magic to grow their crops, not like we did on our frozen continent that depended upon the celestial events to replenish our land’s orem—something that they’d failed to do as of late. Entire territory’s crops had died out.
Frowning, I wondered if that had anything to do with this old tradition being reborn. Perhaps the king wanted to birth and control powerful Solis fae so he could use them for his bidding in acts of war. Or maybe the two were mutually exclusive.
Because Michas had spoken of invasion as though it were outside of the king, as though it was coming from elsewhere, so perhaps the king wanted to build his army to deter other fae from thinking they could control the destiny of our race. Perhaps the king was doing this to prevent a war with the Nolus. But that would only work if he could control the powerful fae who were born and if war wasn’t imminent.
I brought a hand to my head. A headache brewed. I didn’t know what the motivations were behind any of this, and suddenly, I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to be a part of this. I wasn’t cut out for cunning court politics or games of power play. I was just a farm girl from Mervalee who, until a month ago, had been magicless, wingless, and lacked any desirable Solis strengths. But even though I was still wingless, the king apparently thought I was worthy of holding onto.