Page 21 of Wicked Prince of Frost

Every human city in Arum celebrates the Choosing each year, glad when they know their community has been chosen in the previous years, and when the day ends without my arrival.

It is difficult enough to keep gossip to a minimum. With the curse of the dragon paying visits to towns at random, the last thing I need is for rumors of kidnapped and missing women to circulate. Doubtless, it wouldn’t take much for the humans to let their imaginations get out of control and spur them into an uprising.

I lift the curtain corner over the window a sliver to peek out.

The people of Firnhallow gawk from where they stand, ignorant to the necessity of the spectacle they are about to witness.

Their expressions are a mix of emotions—none of which can be mistaken for anything flattering.

It is as expected. As it always is when they realize they have been selected to provide a willing bride.

Nevertheless, it sours my mood further.

A middle-aged man rushes up to the stage in the middle of the square. He holds his hands aloft, signaling for everyone’s attention. When few bother, he clears his throat and calls out. One by one, the people tear their gazes from our procession.

The man stumbles over the first few words as he begins his speech. In his nervousness, he needlessly introduces himself as their mayor, then begins to read directly from a letter detailing what he is to say, sent the day before.

He tells the story of a curse—a truth. And how it is said only a human woman can break it—a lie. The story is a pile of demon shit with enough small grains of truth to make it believable.

The Choosing was Mingi’s idea when we realized what needed to be done to stave off the affects of the curse. He understood that they would be more willing if we gave them a noble purpose to fight for.… That and more wealth than human settlement would refuse.

I let the curtain slip from my fingers and face Mingi. “You know what to do. Treat this the same as every other Choosing.”

He nods, then steps out. The crowd parts, allowing him passage.

Imugi curls up on the bench beside me. Their body begins to emit a frosty blue glow. “Your pearl.”

I take it and hold the dull, listless thing in my palm. It is nothing more than an ordinary, small, white stone. All I need to do is cast a simple glamour at the right time, and no one will be the wiser.

Such a forgery is considered treasonous. Other than Imugi, only Mingi has seen it up close to know the truth. But he has kept my secret all these years.

Mingi climbs the steps up to the stage. The mayor rushes to meet him. He nods emphatically as Mingi explains how to proceed, then scurries back toward the center of the platform with a large smile of pure showmanship that fails to reach his eyes, plastered on his face.

He clears his throat again—which seems to be a nervous habit—before addressing the crowd. “Our Prince, heir to the Arum throne, has graced our humble city with his presence on his search for a future queen. Those willing will be presented to him in turn to see if there is a woman suitable among them.”

Mingi steps up beside him. “We wish to bestow a gift for Firnhallow’s generosity in hosting the royal procession.” He raises a hand to gesture toward ten men approaching the stage, each with a chest laden with gold and jewels.

The mayor’s jaw goes slack as the heavy burdens are lined up behind him.

“This gift is for the people of Firnhallow, regardless of our success or failure here,” Mingi says, to move things along. “However, if we are successful, the family of the Chosen will be gifted a bride price to ensure they are taken care of for the rest of their lives, and that of their children, and children’s children.”

At this, the crowd turns to murmur among themselves, faces bright at the possibility of riches they never dreamed possible.

The bride price is nothing more than payment for keeping up the pretense that I am in search of a queen to sit on the throne beside me—as if I have not taken a bride once a year for the past six years. For them to forget their belief that I willsacrifice her to the dragon terrorizing the kingdom and turning the inhabitants into eternal ice sculptures if they dare to cross its path.

Few mind at all, whether they have eligible daughters or not.

Mingi gestures for the mayor to continue.

“We ask any eligible and willing to join us on stage now.”

The clot of people shifts and gradually five women make their way forward. Butsheis not among them. I close my eyes and summon the thread that will seek out the woman with the frost flower’s power within her.

It wends through the air, weaving around the people until it finds her, then wraps around her. The world shifts to a muted gray as the soft glow of the thread envelops her, making her stand out as a colorful beacon among a colorless world.

A man holds her back by the forearm, preventing her from doing what she must. A frowning woman beside him says something before he can. The two accompanying her seem close to her age, maybe a year or two older. Their small group is too far away to make out what any of them is saying.

My hands clench into fists. She knows exactly what will happen, to her and everyone else, if she fails to do as instructed. Even with the certainty of the bargain binding her, uncertainty scratches against my nerves. I cannot risk the power within her to escape my grasp.