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“Bleeding skies!” Father shot up. “If you think I’llallow this marriage to stand, Vale, you’re mistaken. You?—”

“Itmuststand.” The Grand Staret stepped forward, stopping at my side but with a good three paces between us.

“What in the stars?” Neve whispered.

Indeed. Why was the very fae who had not wished to perform our ceremony sticking up for us? And interrupting the king at that?

“What did you say, Grand Staret?” Father’s pale face had turned red, and snow of his own creation swirled at his feet. He didn’t use his winter magic often, but sometimes, when he was angry, Father couldn’t control the magic born of this very land. That never boded well for those around him.

“As I’ve already told you,” Grand Staret Arkyn’s replied, voice level as he was a fae of power in his own right, “I did not want to perform the ceremony, my king. However, there is something else I did not mention before. A sign.”

Father’s moon-pale fingers curled around the frost-covered arms of his throne. “Of what, pray tell?”

“At the end, there was a sign from the Faetia. Perhaps a message from the stars and the dead gods themselves.”

“Which was?” Father growled.

“That their marriage was approved. Fated. Holy.” The staret paused. “Even a king should not be able to undo the will of the Faetia—perhaps even that of the dead gods.”

Blood pounded in my ears. Had that been what the bright light meant? An outward symbol to others of whatthe Faetia whispered to us? The staret above all others would be able to tell us.

“As I am the highest staret in this kingdom,” Staret Arkyn continued, “I will not allow any under me to go against the will of the dead gods, either.”

“Under you?” Father pushed up from the throne.

“In holy matters—yes.”

A collective sharp intake of breath filled the silence the staret’s words left. For a moment, I thought Father would scream, would roar, would threaten the staret.

Instead, he stomped down the stairs to stand face-to-face with the holy fae.

“You dare defy me?” Each word hissed out of the king as if it pained him.

“I will not go against the will of the stars.”

“I can replace you, Staret Arkyn.”

“Might I remind you, my king, that my position is held until death.”

“Easily arranged.”

The old fae lifted his chin. “Not without great issue to the Crown. The Tower of the Living and the Dead holds great sway, and the nobles are not the only ones capable of enacting change in a kingdom.”

Change.

What a polite way to phrase what he really meant:rebellion. Should my father go against what Grand Staret Arkyn deemed the will of the dead gods, the holy faction of our kingdom would start an uprising.

The Grand Staret could manage it too. The Crown ruled, and most cowered before it, but in the hearts of thecommonfae, the Tower of the Living and the Dead and the House of Wisdom held significant sway. A king might not survive going up against the Tower. Especially if any of the more devoted houses like House Balik or House Armenil and their people sided with the Tower.

It would not be the first time the greater houses were split. They’d divided during my father’s rebellion too, and that had only been decades ago. We were already dealing with the Falk loyalists. Not very successfully, at that.

If the way the air grew colder and ice particles formed around us was any sign, my father knew that too. He was weighing his options.

Finally, he regained control of his magic and the air warmed again. He twisted and pinned his icy gaze on me.

“Keep your whore wife, but do not think your actions will go unpunished. There’s a death to answer for. The Laurents willdemandblood. And they are not the only ones.”

My hand slid up Neve’s arm to her shoulder, and I shifted her behind me. “Remember my promise at the feast, Father.”