Page 104 of Wicked Prince of Frost

Her eyes go wide with fear.

I summon my power, knowing it shines in my eyes like a threat as I round on the King’s Guard. “What do you think you are doing?”

If they are fazed, none show any sign of it.

A woman steps forward. The silver dragon feather dangling from her hat marks her as the chief guard. “HisMajesty and the council are waiting for you, Your Highness. We are to ready Lady Hawthorn before bringing her in.”

Not even I can go directly against the king’s orders.

I scowl. “Very well.”

I must don the mantle of the heartless prince they expect. The one they have always known. Cold. Wicked. Murderous.

It is a role that no longer comes naturally as it once did—one I no longer wish to play.

She has changed me more than I realized.

I leave her in their custody as if doing so is the easiest thing in the world to do.

Servants scatter out of my way as I stride through the halls. I don’t even slow as I approach the throne room. With a look, a man scrambles to open the door in time.

Officials and nobles line both sides of the center aisle. All heads turn as I enter, but I pay them no heed. My full attention is on my uncle, the interim king.

He sits back on the throne with his legs crossed and his hands resting atop his knees.

“What is the meaning of this?” I demand.

The king straightens at my tone, planting both feet on the floor. “I am relieved to see you have returned at last, Nephew.”

“Why hasmywifebeen arrested?”

He moves with exaggerated slowness. Entirely too relaxed. “I intended to surprise you both by presenting her to the court last night when you returned from your littlejoy ride.” Disdain fills the last two words. “However, something has been brought to my attention that cannot go unaddressed.” The king gestures to the throne beside him. “It seems we are to have a trial instead.”

For the moment, he is no longer my uncle but King Sameun.

The game is in full motion—there is no stopping it now. All I can do is play along.

I climb the steps and take my place, settling into the uncomfortable throne.

The king motions to the guard standing right inside the door, who signals to the others waiting outside.

There’s a commotion of rough voices and the clink of metal. A guard drags Violet in by chains, leading her to the foot of the dais where I stood a moment ago.

“Kneel,” he snarls, kicking the back of her legs.

Her knees hit the floor with a hard crack. Though I do not allow myself to react, I take careful note of his face, burning his visage into my memory.

“Minister Ilseong, you may begin,” my uncle says.

The official steps forward, practically preening with arrogance. “This woman is guilty of treason against the crown.”

He turns to Minister Molan. She holds a small wooden box I am all too familiar with. He takes it and presents it for everyone to see.

I already know what is inside before he opens it.

A flawless pearl, identical to my own before the curse shattered it. Without my power to infuse it, the thing sits dull and lifeless on a bed of pale blue silk—an obvious fake to any who lays eyes on it.

And it is mine.