Page 212 of Winter Gods & Serpents

The three of us laughed at his joke, but Snow remained still tight attached to me.

“You two planning to stick to each other like that all night? Should have stayed in your bedroom.”

“No use, he refuses to sleep with me or even kiss me for that matter. Made me agree to a deal, had I let him he would have asked to have it in writing and signed,” she complained in a pout.

“Forgive him. His sense of righteousness is second skin.”

I sighed at their remarks. “I stand right here, you know?”

“Is it only me or is his frustration severely pleasuring?” she said ignoring me.

“Discovered the biggest gift of nature I see,” Mal answered and she rose a hand to smack palms with my brother.

As I had expected, every head in the blinding white hall turned as she marched to its centre, her attire stood out, but it was her presence that had all their attention. Crystals hung from all over the ceiling, shapes of snowflakes. White dust floated in the air, resembling snow, magic not real. All in white guests from all overfitted the hall and parted as Snow passed through to the dais centred resembling a citadel in the middle of the celebrations. Many bowed and greeted her as she went to face the dais where her father was sat dressed all in white like the rest of the attendees. His consort, Moreen, and his two other children were missing from his side, still affected by the blood craft poison Snow had used.

“Father,” she greeted bowing before him.

Silas’s eyes drew wide almost in horror at her sight. She only wore a black dress not murdered a village of younglings, her father had his dramatic ways, after all he was the Isjordian ill-famed king.

“Is that—” he started struggling for words.

“Mother's wedding dress? Indeed, your memory works better than I had thought,” Snow answered. My eyes jumped to her, almost resembling in surprise of her fathers.

Silas’s shadows circled in anger and a flicker of hurt that I had not seen before in him. “What have you done to it?” he demanded almost maimed of memory—memory of his wife.

“Only dyed it the colour it should have originally been, had she known she was entering her death-trap when she married you,” she answered making her way to the dais next to her father’s.

He had found her words as biting as I did, there was no other feeling circling him but hurt now. Snow had really managed to wound her father after all, had this been a well thought blow? She seemed to think her father did not care for her or anyone, but I had witnessed him go through emotions she had not felt or seen from him. He did a good job at hiding them; sometimes they hid so far behind his dominating feelings of anger, resentment, boredom, and frustration, that they were often no more than a minute speck. Had he loved his queen?

“Where is your pretty witch, father? Call her out, bring her from the dead again, you have already done it once,” Snow provoked without missing a beat.

“I have warned you too many times, haven’t I? Keep your head out of my business.”

Snow clicked her tongue. “How can I, when your business is so tasty.”

“The aftertaste will be bitter, young rose,” he threatened, a tone from shouting.

“Then I will chase it with some honey.” She turned to him in her seat. “How did you do it, bring her from the otherworld? Your friends from the burning hells helped?”

Her father twisted his face in frustration, chest raising heavily in anger. “Yes,” he answered sternly, ruining Snow’s indulgence strike.

“Blimey, introduce me. I have a few I need to bring back from there. Sweet papa is first, probably rolling in his tomb from your time on the throne, old snake would die a second time from shock,” she exclaimed.

Their conversation, thank the gods cut in half when Elias and his father stood to greet the king and the princess. Ice had formed under our feet. I don’t know if I could have jumped between them on time.

“Your Majesty.” The flashy Lord of Venzor bowed alongside Elias. “My congratulations regarding the celebration and congratulations to your marriage, Princess.” Elias did not lift his eyes to meet Snow’s, his shadows showed he was hurt and angry, she had not told me how the two had ended things between them, I only know it had ended with his broken heart.

“Thank you, Ivar,” Silas greeted back all displeasure.

“I expect to be convinced greatly from this union, hopefully the benefits outweigh the horrors your daughter and so many of your people experienced.”

“You will,” Silas offered sternly. “Isjord will, it is my kingdom. I’d do nothing to harm my life’s work and blood inheritance.”

“Of course,” he retreated carefully. “You are right.”

“Balls and arrogance make you a man, not right, Ivar,” Snow said, and all of the attention sourly turned to her. “He is a king, that makes him the most wrong of all. I’d wait a tad bit longer to give congratulations.”

He glanced between both her and Silas, not knowing whom to fear more, his shadows jumping around in array. “I expect everything will head smoothly, Your Highness.”