Winter's Bride - Candace Wondrak Page 0,21

was simply not anywhere. I supposed he was a manifestation of my magic. It wasn’t as if he was a real person with his own thoughts or anything like that. He was just another part of me, when you got down to it.

This would be the room I would wed her in. This had been the room I’d wed the others in. I did not like thinking about the others, not when a new bride waited for me—a new bride, new possibilities, new hope. If I didn’t believe in that, if I let go of that hope… what would I have?

Nothing. The answer to that was nothing. I would have nothing but the core of what I was, and that was such a depressing thought.

I moved toward my throne, running a hand over it. I did not often sit in it, for sitting there, staring at an empty room, at the windows built in a half-circle around the backside of the throne and seeing the empty, cold landscape… it was too much. Too much of nothing.

Heaving a sigh to myself, I turned around, not knowing where I would wander to next, but knowing I would wander nonetheless. However, as I turned, I spotted something truly strange.

A girl. A girl who wore a silver dress that sparkled in the dim light. She’d come from one of the connecting halls, having walked quietly, soundlessly, so noiselessly I hadn’t heard her. Or perhaps I was simply too lost in my own sorrow to pay attention to the world around me, too accustomed to being alone in this big castle to realize someone else was here.

My soon-to-be bride, who should be in her assigned room, fast asleep.

She held her shoulders back, her head high, causing her yellow hair to tumble over her shoulders and down her back. The dress she’d chosen fit her well, perfectly, one might say. Though she was a good ways away from me, I could tell she was beautiful. Most usually were. Still, their beauty was never enough. Beauty was easy to attain; the fire I searched for… not nearly as much.

The girl had spotted me, and I suddenly felt weight pulling down my shoulders, as if it was all too much, so I lumbered to the throne and sat myself down, exhaling a slow, labored breath. I did not wear a crown, but she had to know who I was.

My brother danced between the humans, making himself invisible to them, but I was so used to being alone in this castle, I never used that power of mine. I was just so tired.

I dropped my gaze away from the girl, wishing she would go away. Go back to her room, get in that bed after changing into nightclothes, and sleep. I could not remember any of the others wandering the castle after being told to remain in their room; from what I held in memory, they’d all listened.

The girl, however, did not seem to take the hint. Once she saw me, she started to approach me, her feet carrying her across the long carpet, her intent to speak to me, I guess. I did not find the prospect thrilling; I knew I was not a very good conversationalist, nor was I very kind. Sometimes I could be abrasive and cruel, if my brother was truthful in how he described me.

“Forgive me,” she started, stopping when she stood less than ten feet away from me, from my hunched position. “I do not know if I should curtsey or bow—”

“Neither,” I muttered, sluggishly drawing my gaze off the floor and dragging it up her dress, stopping only when I stared into her eyes. A greyish blue, more grey than blue currently, in the shadows. In the sunlight, something that hardly ever graced this mountain, I was certain they looked bluer.

She was pretty. Not that I expected differently, but she was pretty in a way the others weren’t. Her skin was more sun-kissed than the others, the yellow in her hair golden. She looked as if she was born to play a role for Summer, for Ishan, not me.

“You are him, then,” she said.

“I would not be sitting on this throne if I was not.” My tone came off jarring and cold, but I could not change it. I set my cheek on a knuckle, leaning off to the side as I crossed my legs, continuing to hold her stare.

What did she think of me? I wondered. If only I could peer