Winter's Bride - Candace Wondrak Page 0,15

keeping an eye on me, refusing to simply let me be. I would repeat this until the end of time if I had to: I’d made my choice, and I would not go back on my word. I was not that kind of person, especially not when doing so might have bad repercussions for my sister.

The castle loomed, growing bigger and wider, its spires taller the closer we got to it. The bitter wind blew, and I hoped the inside of the castle would not be as cold.

Then again, Winter himself lived here, so I didn’t know why I was hoping for something different. I guess, when it all got down to it, I did like the summer season more. I’d rather sweat than shiver.

A kernel of unease settled in my gut when I saw the castle’s magnificent front door. Everything was made of some kind of white or light blue rock, the glass panes frosted over with ice, like frozen spiderwebs. The door, which seemed to be inlaid with gold and silver, opened of its own accord when we neared.

All very beautiful, of course. More beautiful than I could ever have imagined, when this castle was nothing but a tiny thing in the distance. Standing here, beneath its tall towers, it was almost unbelievable, so inspiring and grand that there was no way human hands had built this. This whole place… magic had erupted this castle and its grounds out of nothing, transposed it on the side of this mountaintop, overlooking the valley, the kingdom Winter ruled over with his brother.

I’d never heard of a human marching up here, though I bet many had tried. If I had to guess, I’d say Winter’s magic kept any wandering humans—or marching armies—steered away from his castle, his fortress in the middle of nowhere. I would bet the only humans Winter ever allowed inside were his brides.

Me, I had to remind myself, because all of this was starting to feel less and less real. Ironic, since I was now closer than ever to Winter himself, to meeting my future husband and marching forward into the next twenty-five years of my life.

The messenger tugged on the horse’s mane, stopping it just before the open door. He slid off first, helping me down, and after rubbing the horse’s backside and giving it a small smack, the horse trotted off in the snowy courtyard, looking as relieved as I felt for no longer having to carry two riders.

Riding a horse for days on end? Turned out it wasn’t too comfortable, especially in a dress, especially if you weren’t used to riding horses. I’d ridden before, but only for a short time. Never for days. I’d never left the village before, so there was nowhere to ride a horse to.

The messenger walked ahead of me, and I struggled to keep his pace, too busy taking in the castle around me after we walked in. Just like before, the door to the main hall shut on its own, magic laced in every single thing here, it seemed.

If the outside was gorgeous, the inside was even more so. You could definitely tell not many souls had ever stepped foot here, but it was clean. No dust, no cobwebs, everything spick and span. It was still a little cold in here, but nowhere near the chill the outside air held, no random snowflakes falling from the ceiling or anything like that. The candelabras on the walls, where there should be candles lit with flame, held what looked like icicles that glowed with an otherworldly magic to light the area.

Of course, because fire was a summer thing. An Ishan thing.

I assumed I had to follow the messenger, so that’s what I did. He led me through the main hall, to an adjacent hall that held rooms on one side and tall, towering windows on the other. From those windows, you could practically see the entire kingdom spanning the land at the foot of the mountain. I slowed my pace for only a moment, wondering where my village was. From here, the kingdom appeared huge, much bigger than I ever thought it was.

After a while, the messenger dropped me off in what must be a bedroom. My room. As I studied the large, spacious area, the messenger spoke for the first time since the village, saying, “You will remain here. Food will be brought to you. When it is time for the wedding, you will be notified.” With a bow of