Kingdom Cold

by Brittni Chenelle

  Sympathetic hands removed my bloodstained clothes and washed me. Afterward, I began to hear their voices again and the truth began to reveal itself—the Viran army had arrived. Prince Young had taken Emmett's place as Charlotte's groom, and Sasha—the wine; it was all Emmett's revenge. Young was too nervous about the wedding to drink the wine but the king and Minseo both had. The doctor wasn't sure if either would make it through the night. I replayed the news in an endless loop until I settled on the only comforting thought I could manage—that Young was okay.

  Chapter 30

  Princess Charlotte

  MY FATHER WAS MURDERED on the night of my wedding.

  "The king is dead," the doctor said, removing his gloves. "I gave him the antidote, but he was still too weak from his injuries to recover."

  "No!" I screamed, leaping out from the corner where I was hiding. "You," I cried, pointing at my mother. "You told me to let him rest. Now I'll never see him again!" She turned to me with wet eyes.

  "I hate you. I hate you," I choked. She reached out to me and I braced myself, ready to push her away. My mother wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her chest as my limbs jellied. The wet of her tears soaked into my shoulder and I couldn't remember the last time she'd held me that way. It was the kind of hug my father gave, and in it, I felt everything my mother couldn't say to me. I'm hurting too. You are my only family. I love you. But she wasn’t my father. In fact, she’d stolen the last moments I could have had with him. I pushed her away and hurried out of the room.

  I wasn't permitted to go in the king’s parlor where my father's body was, but the doctor handed me a letter written by the king to me before he died. A letter. I held it to my chest as endless tears fell down my cheeks. It was all I had left of him and that thought alone prevented me from opening it. All my father was—reduced to one piece of parchment.

  The doctor loomed over Minseo. He'd also received the antidote, and while his condition was far from stable, he'd survived an hour and a half since he'd been poisoned, an hour longer than my father. I knew Young would be there beside his brother, but I wasn't sure if it was appropriate for me to go to him. Who was I to Young anyway? I wasn't his wife yet; perhaps a friend. It didn't matter. I was all he had right now and I wanted to be there for him. I slipped a peek in the mirror, only to find my face red and puffy from crying and then felt stupid for checking. I hastened out of my chamber.

  There were two Viran guards outside Minseo's quarters, their faces stoic, their features unmistakably Viran. I lost my nerve as I approached and turned to walk away. Young stood in front of me, sending a tingling sensation that started from behind my eyes and spread to my cheeks.

  He spoke, "I went to check on you."

  I nodded, feeling a heaviness in my chest.

  He continued, "I'm sorry about your father."

  I held out the letter sealed with my father's stamp.

  "He wrote you something? Heh... what an amazing man he was."

  I nodded, forcing myself to break eye contact; if I hadn't, I would have begun to cry again, and once it started, it was difficult to stop. We stood in silence for a moment. I imagined he was waiting for me to say something, but I was afraid of what I'd say.

  "Must be overwhelming getting that letter. Give yourself some time, Charlotte."

  I sniffed. "This is all that's left of him."

  "No," he said. "Every moment you've ever spent with him is what's left of him. That's just a letter."

  I stared down at the crinkled paper in my hands and let my mind dance through my memories of my father. After several seconds, Young grabbed my hand.

  "I have to go check on Minseo."

  He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it before sliding past the Viran guards into Minseo's chamber, closing the door behind him.

  It was a kind and simple gesture of comfort and somehow it helped a little. Had I really come here to comfort Young? Or did I come here because I knew he'd comfort me? I hadn't asked him how he was feeling, or even about his brother. More importantly, he didn’t bring those things up either. He wasn’t thinking of himself, nor his brother at all. Just me.

  I returned to my chamber, my mind drifting from my father to Minseo. Every time someone knocked on my chamber door, my stomach tightened. I worried for Minseo and I worried for Young. Several servants came knocking on my door to check on me, not Milly though. I'd been told that Sasha had also been killed. Milly had found her and discovered the poison in the wine. I wanted to run to her, to throw my arms around her, but everything was broken, and each piece too sharp to mend.

  I was certain that finding Sasha the way that she did had pushed her beyond what she could take. To think she had the piece of mind to report the wine afterward. I knew she needed me, but I couldn't help her—not now. Not while the news of my father's death still stung my heart with each beat.

  Worse were the rumors. Whispers among the servants suggested that Emmett was to blame, but I knew for sure. It was him. Another knock sounded at my door as panic surged. Minseo. This time my mother strode in, a somber energy slumping her posture like I'd never seen before.

  She lay beside me. "I've decided to proceed with the wedding tonight."

  I sat up. "W-What? But father—"

  "I know," she said as she looked deeply into my eyes. For the first time, I noticed the age lines setting in around them. She was getting older, and she looked like she'd been crying as much as I had. She sighed, "That's why. Your father wanted this union. He trusted Prince Young.”

  I felt an ache inside that was unrelenting. I wasn’t sure when, but things with Young had changed. I remembered what he’d said, in my chamber earlier that night about how he still wanted to marry me. I relived the flood of emotions those words unlocked. He was my ally, and like my father, I trusted him, but I somehow couldn't find it in me to be happy about this marriage. In fact, with my father gone, I couldn't find it in me to be happy about anything.

  Chapter 31

  Prince Young

  I PUT A DAMP CLOTH on Minseo's head. "Hang in there," I whispered. What happened to him wasn't my fault—yet, somehow, I blamed myself. He'd wanted to leave this kingdom more than anything and now he couldn't. He must've run into the Viran army on the way out and decided to lead them here. Once again, he'd saved me. I knew somehow it was Emmett who'd poisoned the wine. I made a silent promise on my brother's life that next time I faced off with Emmett I wouldn't lose. I'd make him pay for this.

  "Sir," a voice said from behind me, "Captain Leon is here to see you."

  I nodded and the guard opened the door, allowing Leon to pass. Leon stepped forward. "I'm sorry about your brother," he said, anxiously shifting his weight from one foot to another.

  "Thanks," I said. "He'll be fine." I didn't believe it, but I wanted it to be true.

  "I was sent to inform you that the queen wishes to proceed with the wedding."

  I stood. "But Minseo—and Charlotte's father."

  He shrugged. "I think that's why. This kingdom needs stability. She didn't want to delay it anymore."

  "What does Charlotte think about this?"

  Leon scratched at his eyebrow. "I... have no idea."

  My face reddened. Of course, she was upset about her father. I guess I was just worried that this would make it worse.

  Leon asked, "Uh, do you want me to go ask?"

  "No," I said. "But what was her mood like when she told you?"

  Leon bit back a smile.

  I shook my head, hoping it might hide my embarrassment. "I have to look after Minseo."

  "He needs to rest. You go on, I'll look after him tonight while you’re away," Leon said.

  I turned back to Minseo. He was breathing weakly and his skin was deathly pale. It was difficult seeing him like this. I needed him beside me to talk me through everything. I needed him to make witty comments about my marriage or my new kingdom. I needed him to antagonize me about the consummation ceremony. "Don't die," I said. "I need you, brother."
>
  "They're waiting for you out there. Better get going," Leon said.

  Two hours later, I stood in front of an altar—an ornately decorated platform dripping with golden cups, flickering candles, and velvet cushions. There were endless rows of pews with white ribbons and roses draped across each one. The announcer called the names of the nobles and council members in attendance one by one as they came in, but I'd been standing up front for over an hour, and my mind had blocked out the announcer half an hour ago. The council members stood out to me as they were all wearing similar red robes. I'd heard plenty of things about them, their judgments, and their law enforcement tactics, but this was the first time I'd been able to put a face to them.

  Despite the hundreds of Besmian guests that were arriving, I felt alone. On the other side of the castle, my brother was fighting for his life. My parents and my eldest brother had never planned on making the trip here for the wedding. Most of my soldiers were stationed outside the castle, or, in some cases, getting settled into their new quarters. Despite the wedding, I felt defeated. I couldn't beat Emmett, I couldn't keep my brother safe, and I'd been met with trial after trial since I'd arrived. In a room full of strangers, I longed for some piece of home, or even just someone who knew me.

  The music changed to a pleasant and flowing organ tune that I'd never heard before. The double doors swung open and Charlotte stepped through. Without her father to walk her, Charlotte walked the hundred-yard chapel on her own.

  I'd loathed every moment I stood at the front of the chapel alone, but Charlotte's long walk to the altar must’ve been worse. Every soul in the church watched her, and why wouldn't they? Her tearful eyes glistened, her cheeks pink from crying, her curls straying free from her pins. Yet, she was the loveliest princess there'd ever been.

  She stepped up onto the altar, gifting me a small smile. The pain in her eyes was so vividly obvious it hurt to look at her. I wanted to tell her it would be okay. I wanted her to know I understood. I willed her to hear these messages with my gaze but had no way of knowing if she'd received them.

  The ceremony was in Latin, a language I didn't understand. The guests stood and sat many times throughout at the request of Besmium's religious leader. Charlotte and I each lit a candle and fed each other bread and white wine. It all happened in a blur—slipping by like a falcon passing the mountain's peak. I tried to focus, to be in the moment, but before I could grab ahold of it, it was over.

  "You may kiss the bride."

  What? Oh. Looking down at Charlotte only made me more nervous. I felt the burn from the attention of three hundred people on my face, but the more I hesitated, the weirder it became. I leaned in, barely brushing her bottom lip with mine.

  "I now pronounce you husband and wife," the director said.

  I was flooded with relief. This time, Charlotte and I would make this walk together. I felt a surge of adrenaline as she gripped tightly onto my arm. After everything, we'd made it. I didn't know exactly what lay ahead of us. But I felt like it couldn't have been worse than what we'd already faced. We were headed to the grand hall for a feast, although I didn't feel much like celebrating and I couldn't imagine Charlotte wanted that either. I felt drained and wanted nothing more than to lay down to rest.

  Suddenly, I remembered. A nervous energy seethed through my body with alarming force. How could I possibly rest? The council members would all be there at my bedside tonight. Charlotte would be in it.

  The consummation ceremony was hours away—and I could barely even kiss her.

  Chapter 32

  Princess Charlotte

  I WAS ALLOWED TO CHANGE my dress before the banquet. With the ceremony over and the majority of the grand hall ready for the feast, there was plenty of help this time. As an amber-haired lady's maid unlaced my corset, I remembered how Young had struggled to unlace it earlier—and how Minseo hadn't. I stepped out of my dress and felt the drafty castle air brush my legs. I rubbed my line-printed waist with my fingers, the marks from the corset a semi-permanent design on my body, then begrudgingly slipped into my reception dress. This one was much more free-flowing, with a large ribbon that went around my waist synching in the dress and tying in a bow at the back.

  My mother entered my chamber. "Daughter," she said. "Tonight you will become a full woman." Oh God. I turned away hoping that she'd stop, but she didn't.

  "The consummation ceremony is essential. It's the last step in binding the marriage—and as a woman, you have certain obligations."

  "Mom, please. Stop."

  "You're a wife now. You will also soon be queen."

  "Mom, stop. Now."

  "It's your duty to produce an heir and reestablish Besmium as—"

  I couldn't take another word. "Seriously. I was going to go through with it, but now I'm reconsidering it."

  She ignored me, grabbing me by the chin and kissing my cheek. "I'm so proud of you," she said. Then she left my chamber, a grimace of pity on her face before she stepped out.

  I tried to push the consummation ceremony out of my head, to focus on what was ahead—the feast—but I simply couldn't.

  I adjusted the top of my dress but quickly stopped, wondering if what I hid underneath my garments was okay. I'd never given much thought to my body before. It seemed normal enough to me, but I'd never tried to compare it to other girls’ before now. What would Young think? One thing I was certain about was that I didn't want my body to be seen. My mind raced. And worse than seeing my body is what would come after. Would it hurt? Would I need to stop? With so many people watching, the best I could hope for was something quick and ordinary. A standard experience. Dread seeped in. What if I enjoyed myself? Every moment I thought about it, I would bring new worst-case-scenarios to light.

  Young sat beside me at the reception and I couldn't help but sneak glances every chance I got. Why didn't he seem nervous? Why was he eating so much? Should I eat more? What if my stomach bulged out? He was calm and at ease, his posture confident and his demeanor pleasant. It unsettled me. I considered drinking wine to relax, but it didn't feel like a safe option. Even after we had been assured that the white wine had been tested for poison and no traces found, most people seemed to be avoiding it. Not to mention, the last time I drank too much wine I'd made a fool out of myself in front of Young. It seemed unnatural that these celebrations continued as they'd been planned as if my father were in attendance. Life just cruelly kept moving, without even pausing to mourn a fallen king.

  "Without further ado," the announcer called, "the Prince and Princess of Besmium will share their first dance."

  Young helped me to my feet. My cheeks flushed with color as the entire room put down their cutlery and watched us take our positions at the center of the grand hall. Young pressed his body against mine, palming my right hand in his. His grip was tighter than I was used to, but once we started moving, I was grateful that I didn't have to guess where he was leading me. He swept me across the dance floor as the band filled the room with a symphony of flutes and violins, Young's steps precise and graceful. He spun me, turning my body outward and pressing his chest against my back before continuing the dance from this position. The onlooking nobles applauded as Young strung my body around the room with long, sweeping strides. He spun me back to face him as a hint of a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and I felt something warm stir inside. This isn't so bad, I thought. Perhaps tonight wouldn't be so bad either.

  When the final dance ended, I knew it was time for the final ceremony of the night. The dance had quelled many of my fears, but they all rushed back as I entered the royal bedchamber and had my maid slip my dress off to leave me in only an undergarment. It was a thin, loose-fitting cloth that could be easily removed. It was not like a corset, required no practice or experience, and was virtually see-through from close proximity—it was my last layer of armor, and as I stood by the bed, waiting for Young to arrive, I could feel the presence of the rest of the counsel chattering quietly on the outskirts of the room. The bed
was already turned down, a thin white curtain, made from a material that was not unlike my undergarments, was drawn, separating the bed from the rest of the room. The candles were burning low, and in this amount of light I was certain I'd only be a blurred shape to the onlookers—but Young would see everything. He'd feel everything. I gulped a mouthful of stale saliva.

  Young entered the room, skyrocketing my pulse. I took a deep breath and felt tears prick my eyes. I wasn't ready but it was too late to back out. He entered the bed area, taking special care to fully close the sheer curtain surrounding the bed. He pulled off his shirt. A fierce wave of fear and excitement tore through my stomach as the yellow candlelight illuminated his bare chest. His muscles were defined peaks and valleys across his body, which surprised me, but I wasn’t sure what I thought a man would look like shirtless before now.

  I held my breath as he grabbed my waist and pulled me close. Tears spilled from my eyes as one emotion eclipsed all the others—fear.

  He pulled my body to him and I felt my chest brush against his. He put his lips to my ear and whispered softly, "It'll be okay. I promise."

  I nodded but fought my instinct to flee. I wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out. I needed more time. My mother was wrong; two more years might have made a big difference after all. Young took my hand and I sat down on the bed. My heartbeat in pace with my thoughts. With his palm, he eased me back onto the bed. He wrapped his arm around me and moved me onto the pillows.

  I pressed my knees together with all my strength. He leaned in, his body pressing on mine. A fleeting wave of relief hit me as I realized he couldn't see my body from his position on top of me.

  "Trust me," he whispered.

  I clenched my eyes shut as his fingers brushed down my exposed leg to my knee. I felt my body shake as I allowed my knees to separate.