Frost: A fae romance (Frost and Nectar Book 1)

King Torin strode down the hall, moving at a clip so brisk, I had to run to keep up with him. I kicked off my heels and carried them, getting out of breath as I hurried after him.

I felt dazed, my mind flicking back every few moments to Andrew and Ashley. What were they doing right now? Cooking in our kitchen? Fucking in our bed? Planning their wedding?

We’d always planned a forest wedding. Secretly, I’d started the plans on my own, but he’d been on board with the general idea. I knew he’d be popping the question any day, so I’d picked out a gown, the table settings. I wanted to wear a crown of wildflowers, and to have live music.

Holy shit.

How fucking sad was I?

Maybe this little adventure wasn’t the worst thing for me. Beautiful castle. Beautiful people. Plenty to take my mind off the wedding that would never happen.

I played my new mantra again in my head: Fifty million dollars. That was the most important part of this.

I could feel my long cape trailing behind me as I ran. We hurried through the castle, and he was somehow able to walk at a pace faster than my typical jog. But as I moved, I took in the sights. The beautiful courtyards, ruddy in the setting sun. The tall windows and ornate carvings. A winding stairwell that seemed to spiral on forever.

Just when I felt my lungs were going to explode, Torin slowed and stood before towering oak doors in the vaulted hall. Heaving for breath, I touched my chest. My skin glowed with a faint sweat.

Torin nodded at the doors. “The contestants are through there, but I’ll be entering separately. And remember—” He lifted his finger to his lips, arching an eyebrow.

He really didn’t have much faith in my subtlety.

With that, he turned from me and crossed to a narrow stairwell that led upward.

I slipped on the heels again and pulled open the door. Before me, under soaring gothic arches, I found an ocean of silk, satin, tulle, and taffeta. Many of the women had wildflowers braided and threaded into their hair, and wreaths of leaves on their heads. These gorgeous women chatted to one another to the dulcet sounds of a string quartet. Torin’s footmen mingled among them, carrying gilded platters of hors d’oeuvres.

To Torin, of course, all this was positively dreadful.

I eyed the triangular cucumber sandwiches with a dim realization that I should eat. And the food, honestly, looked amazing: shrimp skewers and cocktail sauce, blini topped with crème fraiche and caviar, and hot dates wrapped with bacon. If I got my appetite back, this deal would be worth it for the food alone.

The women didn’t seem to be eating much, but they weren’t holding back when it came to drinking. Champagne goblets sparkled in their hands. Normally, I’d have been all about a glass of bubbly, but not after last night. Instead, I popped one of the hot dates into my mouth. Oh, gods, it was delicious.

I walked the edges of the hall, keeping to the shadows. Great tapestries hung on the stone walls, and my gaze roamed over the verdant scenes, the forests and gardens embroidered before me. As I stared at the exquisite art, I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Hey, Ava.”

I turned to see Shalini and smiled at how gorgeous she looked. The loose T-shirt had been replaced by a sleeveless silk jumpsuit in rose gold, like my dress, but somehow far sexier. Especially with her sleeve tattoos on display. With her plunging neckline, it was hard not to stare.

“Madam Sioba said an advisor should wear a suit, but she didn’t object to a jumpsuit.”

“You look amazing!”

She looked down at herself. “Are you sure?”

“Would I ever lie to you?”

Shalini brightened. “No. You’re totally shit at lying—” Shalini cut short, catching my elbow. “Ava, look.”

She pointed through the crowd to a small group of fae women at the far end of the hall. Far more opulently dressed than the women near us, they wore gowns that glittered with pearls and gemstones. Instead of wreaths of flowers or leaves, they wore small silver crowns.

“The princesses,” said Shalini breathlessly. “There are six of them, each from a different clan.”

She started to pull me toward them, skirting the main crowd of contestants.

I wasn’t going to speak to them, as instructed. But I found myself following. These were the women I was supposed to beat.

Though apparently, Torin would do everything in his power to help me win, since he desperately needed someone…unlovable. I tried not to get too offended by that thought, since the man hated everything.

Shalini stopped short again, catching my arm, and I followed her gaze.

On the other side of the princess clique stood a small group of humans—the news crew who’d accosted me outside Shalini’s apartment, now with a brand-new camera. The reality show host spoke excitedly to the camera, gesturing at the princess we’d met earlier. “And the woman in the magnificent dark gown is Princess Moria, the eldest of the Dearg-Due. We will have to keep a careful eye on what she drinks this evening.” He raised an eyebrow, giving the camera a knowing look. “As we all know, the Dearg-Due prefer a fluid of the sanguine sort.”

My eyes widened in surprise. She drinks blood?

The reporter sucked in a sharp breath as another beautiful fae princess crossed in front of him, wearing a shimmering golden gown that accentuated her black hair and rich mahogany skin. Motioning for the camerawoman to focus the lens on her, he spoke in breathless tones.

“Now, here is Princess Cleena of the Banshees. Vanity Fair has described her as the most beautiful woman on the planet.”

The princess was standing a few feet away, but if she heard the reporter, she gave no indication.

He was right about her beauty, though. Her dark hair hung in beautiful ringlets down her back, but it was her eyes that drew my attention. Widely set and a deep golden amber, they demanded attention. Princess Cleena’s gaze moved languorously around the room. She was all composure.

When the reporter’s eyes met mine, my breath caught. For a moment, we stared at each other, and then he was moving toward me with a hungry look in his eye.

Torin had glamoured him to forget me—hadn’t he?

“Ava Jones?”

Fuck.

The camerawoman focused her lens on me.

“Now, this is something, our final contestant,” he said. “The whole country watched the conflict between these two in the bar. And boy, did sparks fly! Except I’m not sure they were the right kind of sparks. I think none of us were expecting to see this fiery fae here as a contestant, but this is an interesting turn of events.”

I stepped away, and Shalini touched my back for support.

The reporter’s eyes narrowed, “And who is this with you, Ms. Jones?”

I sighed. “This is my advisor, Shalini.”

He stared at her, nodding. “A human advisor in Faerie. Wow, I bet a lot of people would love to have your job.” He thrust the microphone in her face. “Are you going to keep Ms. Jones in control, or can we expect more fireworks?”

Shalini glanced at me. “She’s perfectly composed. It was just a bad night, that’s all.”

Around us, a murmur was growing, and I sensed that the crowd noticed the attention on us. I desperately wanted to shrink back into the shadows.

A trumpet sounded, saving me from all the attention. The doors swung slowly open at the end of the hall, and a footman stepped into the entryway. He was dressed in an exceptionally extravagant suit festooned in gold embroidery. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a booming voice, “dinner is served.”

More food? Fantastic. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted the tournament to end.

The reporter shoved his microphone in my face, asking me what had caused my meltdown in the bar with the king, but I slipped away from him, blending into the crowd. After an entire life as a fae among humans, I’d learned something about the art of going unnoticed.

Embedded in the crowd of taller fae, we crossed into a new hall where tables were arranged in a semicircle around a pair of giant thrones. Constructed from gray granite, they seemed to have grown from the stone floor itself. The floor was white marble inlaid with a magnificent bronze stag. The lofty ceiling was formed of entwined tree branches. Hundreds of tiny, glittering lights flitted among the boughs like fireflies.

I glanced at Shalini, catching her enraptured expression. Awestruck, I gazed at the ceiling again.

Aeron caught my elbow, recalling my attention. “This way,” he said, nodding at one of the tables.

The contestants were already taking their seats, and the princesses sat among the rest.

My gaze snagged on a princess seated near me. She wore an elegant green dress that sparkled like the sea under the sun. Her brown eyes were enormous and fringed with long lashes, and a wreath of seaweed was nestled in her white hair. Her pale skin had an almost iridescent hue that shimmered under the lights. “Aren’t we all lucky to be here?” she said to her neighbors. “One of us will find true love. We might bear the king’s children.”

She beamed, but no one answered her.

True love. You poor, naive thing.

“Who’s that?” I whispered to Shalini.

Shalini leaned close so only I could hear. “That’s Princess Alice. She’s a kelpie—a lake fae. They can be very weepy, but she seems thrilled with all this.”

“Oh.” I had only a vague memory of what that meant. Something to do with horses, I thought.

“And next to her, Etain of the Leannán Sídhe.”

I followed her gaze to see a woman with tawny skin and hair the color of a sunset, periwinkle and coral. She wore a delicate crown of pearls and a pale violet dress—and she was presently giving the middle finger to Moria. “Don’t think you can order us all around here, blood-drinker.”

“What’s a Leannán Sídhe?” I asked.

“A seductress of some kind, I think,” she whispered back. “And that”—she pointed to a green-haired beauty—“is Eliza, princess of the Selkie clan.”

The warm lights shimmered off Eliza’s green hair and bronze skin. “I have been told that the king’s generosity is unparalleled,” Eliza said, lifting a crystal flute. She smiled, but her expression seemed forced. “And this fine champagne certainly lends credence to that opinion.”

“Selkie?” I whispered.

“They live by the sea,” said Shalini. “The clan symbol is a seal. And to her right is Sydoc the Redcap. Just…maybe just stay away from her. Redcaps are terrifying.”

Sydoc wore a bright red gown and hat, the color a startling contrast to her pale skin, and her long raven hair cascaded over bare shoulders. She spoke to no one, just drank her wine, her eyes flitting from one side to another.

At this point, I was wishing I’d paid more attention to my fae history.

As the only fae kid in my town, I’d stood out. I’d done everything I could to be like the human kids—watched their TV shows, listened to their pop music, grown my hair out to cover my ears, dyed it brown to match the other kids. I wasn’t even entirely sure what color of blue my hair was anymore, since I got the roots done every three weeks.

The only properly fae thing I’d done was learn how to fence in high school, just when the fae were starting to become fashionable among a few of the cooler, edgier humans. And fencing was a fae thing. With my little fae-loving clique, I’d learned the art of the foil, the épée, and the sabre. It had come more naturally to me than anything I’d done before.

Finally, by my sophomore year of high school, some of the kids actually thought I was cool, and no one was tying me to fence posts anymore.

In the past few years, humans had become increasingly obsessed with us. Now, news reporters and the paparazzi followed our every move, and fae dictated the fashions. Pink and purple hair dye sold off the shelves, and colored contact lenses now went for thousands of dollars on eBay. Plastic surgeons had begun adding silicone points to human ears.

But that was five years ago; I hadn’t touched a sword since then.

The sound of a blaring trumpet snapped me out of my reminiscences, and I looked up to see King Torin enter the room, dressed in black. His pale gaze slid over the crowd. Striding across the marble with his contingent of footmen and soldiers, he looked every bit the king.

He wore a long cloak, inky black with silver embroidery. At his hip, I could see the glint of his onyx-hilt rapier. But what really caught my eye was the crown of antlers on his head—a dark silver color, sharply pointed.

He stopped in the center of the room with his back to the granite thrones. His host stepped away, and a hush fell over the ballroom. For once, even the reporter was silent. All eyes were fixed on King Torin.

His regal magic seemed to command us to bow. Honor your king.

Heads around me lowered, but I kept my eyes on him. I guess I still resented being exiled.

Torin’s eyes met mine for an instant, but his expression betrayed nothing. “Welcome to my home. I appreciate that all of you have come on such short notice. It is important that we—that I—select a queen to rule Faerie, to strengthen the power of the six Seelie clans. My mother’s throne has been empty for too long, and the kingdom needs the strength of a high queen.”

There was a murmur of appreciation from the audience.

“Before things begin, I want to explain the rules of the tournament.” King Torin’s eyes moved around the room, and they seemed to linger on me just a heartbeat longer than the rest. “According to the ancient writings of the great Seelie historical chronicler, Oberon, these trials have been a custom for centuries. Every time, they end with a sword fight in the arena. Their purpose is to identify those possessing traits of a true fae queen: strength and agility, wit, intelligence, and of course, skill with a blade. And at times in the history of the fae, when we blended with the human world, we have incorporated elements of their culture. As High King of the Seelie, ruler of the six clans, I must see that the humans continue to revere us.”

Interesting. I supposed that was the TV bit.

“The first contest will be a race, to identify those of you who are strongest and fastest. To gauge wit, intelligence, charm, and poise, I will host parties, and we will spend time together, one on one. Those who make the final cut will compete in a fencing tournament.”

“Your Highness?” The princess with white hair and porcelain skin raised her hands. “How will you determine who is the most witty and charming?”

“That,” King Torin said with a smile, “will be up to me.”