Page 7 of White Raven

He exhaled, his shoulders lowering, noting my detached response to him.

“This is for the best, Wren.” His palm cupped my cheek. “I’m doing this for you. For our kingdom.”

“I know.” I didn’t know. Wouldn’t keeping me here be safer under the king’s guards?

A presence by my side caught his attention. “Your Majesty.” Sarina curtsied, smiling brightly at my father. She made sure her curves were on display as she did so. Her eyes glinted with mischief addressing me. “My lady.”

Dropping away from me, he stepped back, his gaze roaming thoroughly over my handmaiden. “Sarina.” He cleared his throat.

“A ceremonial bath and dressing are waiting for you, my lady.” Sarina’s energy was bursting at the seams. I could tell she wanted to grab my arm and run off, giggling over something.

“Oh.” He nodded, his disposition losing any warmth he had a moment ago. “Of course.” He dipped his head at me. “Run along. I need you at your best tonight, Wrennlyn.”

Giving him one last shallow curtsy, I reached for Sarina, both of us rushing off.

“Oh Huginn-Muninn,” Sarina squealed in my ear. “Brynden is so handsome!” It would mean more if she didn’t think almost every boy around our age was handsome. “I can’t believe you get to bed him.” She elbowed me. “Maybe tonight you can get a good taste of what your marriage bed will be like.”

“Sarina!” I hissed, peering around to see if anyone had overheard her, twisting around to see if we were out of earshot of the king.

Vorian Stallard stood in the same spot, staring in our direction, but his notice was not on me.

It was devoted entirely to Sarina.

CHAPTER 3

Adozen round, white antler chandeliers hung from the arched wooden beams in the grand hall, the candles trickling wax, coating the horns in a glittering sheen like jewels. From my position behind the white curtain, I could see the entire dining hall glowing in candlelight, reflecting off the clear stones hanging in clusters from the beams above to give the feeling snow was pirouetting down on us inside the castle.

“This is so exciting.” Sarina bounced up and down next to me, her blond hair braided on each side and left loose around her shoulders, her icy blue dress twirling at her ankles. “I’m going to dance all night with every man I see. Get them all in before we leave Silvervale.”

I envied her excitement; the freedom she had to dance with any male she desired. From here on out, I was tied to one.

Peeking farther out into the busy hall, the festivities in full bloom, I spotted my intended. A man I didn’t know at all, nor him me. Would I even understand how to be a wife? I was never allowed a genuine relationship because of who I was. I never had a man I could call a beau. Now I would have a husband.

Husband. The word made me shiver. It felt possessive, like he belonged to only me. That I shouldn’t have to share with all the women fluttering their eyes at him, hoping to catch the attention of the man who would bed the White Raven. The son-in-law to the king.

Brynden stood proudly in the middle, shaking hands and speaking to high nobles and pretty women congratulating him on his nuptials. Miika haughtily stood at his side, pounding his son’s back as if they had both worked hard to achieve this goal.

There was no denying I felt a slight thrill of the unknown ahead of me. I had never traveled outside the city walls of Silvervale. Now I’d be moving far south to Snowfern, away from everything I knew, with a husband and a new family.

“They are about to announce you, my lady.” Anja, another one of my handmaidens, lifted the delicately crochet-trimmed hood of my fur-lined cloak off my head.

The evening sunset tinted the glass window across from me, reflecting the image of the girl in it. A sharp breath held in my lungs, taking in my likeness. I no longer saw the girl, but a woman before me.

White paint streaked over my freckled nose and up my cheeks like a warrior. A rune of protection was marked on my forehead, and others for fertility, harmony, and love went down my neck to my chest. More runes were stained like tattoos over my hands and arms. My hair was left down, cascading in waves to my hips, my feet in snowy white flats with leather straps.

My fingers ran over the ritual dress I was wearing. It was a soft, thick, white cotton, which dipped low on my chest to show off my ritual symbols. Crocheted and beaded across the breasts, stomach, and hips, it clung to the minimal curves of my body, giving me more shape.

“You’ve grown into a stunning woman, Wren.” Ingrid, the most motherly of my handmaidens, came up to me with teary eyes. “You look so beautiful.” She placed a crown of white feathers and antlers on my head. “I am so proud of you.”

I smiled, trying to imagine my own mother saying these things to me. I couldn’t picture it. I didn’t have one memory of her.

“Yes. Yes.” Elvina waved her away from me as music played from the other room. “It is time.”

The trumpets blared, a man’s voice singing out. “Presenting His Majesty the King, and the White Raven!”

The curtains opened and I was prodded forward. The king came from the other side of the platform, where our table had been set up, slightly above everyone else. The jam-packed room exploded in clapping and cheers, the noise resounding off the stone walls. The dining hall had been turned into a snowy dream of white and sparkling gems. The tables were laden with food stretching out in lines below us, filling the entire hall. Nobles and wealthy families within a fifty-mile radius had been invited to the festivity.

“We’d like to welcome the Blaxhall family to our table, in honor of the union between their son, Brynden, and my daughter, Wrennlyn.”