Page 64 of Wicked Prince of Frost

“All right, I’m ready,” I say when it’s clear she can’t or won’t answer me.

She spins on her heel and marches down the hall with the unspoken expectation that I will follow.

Unable to come up with a reason, good or bad, for the king wanting to see me, I allow her to lead the way.

We cut through the open courtyard and through the main gate leading to the central palace. The Temple Tower looms behind another building, small in comparison, though nearly double the size of Joon’s apartments and mine combined.

This must be the Formal Hall and the king’s quarters.

The palace guard stops before five other guards at the double doors. “The king has requested the Lady’s presence,” she announces.

They step aside and allow us through. More guards are posted every thirty feet within the hall.

I feel their eyes on me as we pass.

We continue deeper into the main hall of the Central Court until we finally reach a room at the very center—a heart within a heart. It even feels symbolic.

“Stay here,” She orders, then slips inside, closing the door before I can glimpse what lies beyond.

My escort guard is back within moments, gesturing for me to enter. The door slides shut with a snap.

The room is wide open, with massive, frosted windows on the east and west walls. Most of the space is empty, able to accommodate several hundred court members, formal dinners for anyone of status, including minor nobility, or host a ball.

Sconces made of white metal fashioned into designs resembling delicate lace, spiraling dragons carved into the pillars, and engraved beams overhead serve as the main decorations.

Contrasting against the snowy-white wood of the floor, a cobalt runner starts at the center of the room and ends at the foot of seven steps leading up a dais. Atop the dais, the king sits upon a wide throne with an identical empty throne to the right.

At the bottom of the steps, two fae officials stand on either side of the runner. They wear the traditional robes denoting their position. A layer of white that begins with a high, straight collar and ends an inch above the floor, with wide sleeves that end halfway down the hand. The top layer is a sleeveless, sheer material in a smoky blue with a midnight trim. The robes wrap around the front of their chests, held in place by a wide belt, knotted at their left hip. Each belt has a symbol embroidered on one of the dangling ends.

I walk forward. The female official flicks her wrist in a sharp motion, halting me several feet away.

With no instructions or guidance on how to conduct myself in formal situations like this, I am at a loss for what to do beyond the obvious.

I bow deeply and say, “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

The male official snorts derisively. I bristle inwardly but am careful not to react.

“I am sure you are curious as to why I summoned you.”

“I am… Your Majesty,” I say.

Demons and saints, I hope no one caught the tremor in my voice.

The king stands and clasps his hands at his low back as he casually strolls down the stairs. I force my feet to root me in place, fighting against the nerves that push my heart to beat faster.

Remain calm, Violet.

“There is no cause for concern, Lady Hawthorn.” The king pauses at the bottom of the dais and smiles warmly. “I called you here because there is a small matter of official business to address.”

Confusion furrows my brow. I can’t help the feeling of betrayal. Neither Joon, Mingi, nor Iseul bothered to warn me that I would be expected to perform“official business”in any capacity.

I don’t notice the king moving closer until he’s less than an arm’s length away. He reaches for my hand and holds it between both of his in a move that takes me by surprise. I barely stop myself in time from yanking my arm back from the unexpected touch.

Why am I acting like this? We have spoken before and walked together.

“Be at ease, Violet. Have we not talked and walked together before?” he says in an eerie echo of my thoughts.

“I apologize if I failed to adequately perform the duties of my position,” I hurry to say, even though I have no idea what they are. “I will do better?—”