To her right she spied Daven, staring at her in amazement. She felt just a tinge of guilt that she had not yet properly rejected him. Hopefully walking into the tavern in arm with the literal king would let him down better than Elina ever could with words.
“So you have deigned to drink with the commoners, Your Majesty?” Adrian drawled, face flushed from alcohol. He was clearly rather drunk; Scarlett swatted his arm good-naturedly.
“Careful about what you say when you’re drunk. You don’t want a repeat of last time when that witchdoctor turned you back into a –”
Adrian laughed the rest of Scarlett’s sentence away, just a tinge of embarrassment colouring the red of his cheeks. Elina was deathly curious.
“What were you turned into?” she asked, just as Gill herself brought over an ice-cold bottle of vodka to their table, along with a very good bottle of red wine.
“On the house, of course,” she said, her face growing redder than Adrian’s when Kilian beamed at her. With his perfect cheekbones, crystal-blue eyes, immaculately-braided hair and expensive clothes it was no wonder Gill was besotted with the sight of him. Out of the corner of her eye Elina spied most of the women of Alder looking at him longingly.
“I preferred you when you were scruffy,” she muttered, so quietly only Kilian could hear.
He grinned. “Are you jealous, Elina? Because I’d rather say I’m jealous of the way all the men were looking at you when we entered here.”
Elina rolled her eyes. “They were not.”
She cried out in surprise when Kilian snaked a hand through her hair and pulled her in for a long, lingering kiss. When he let go his eyes were glittering in amusement. “Well, just in case, now they all know both of us are unavailable.”
“You…behave yourself!” Elina pushed him away and grabbed a goblet of wine, face unbearably hot with the knowledge that most everyone was looking at her. But it was a good kind of embarrassment. She was pleased that Kilian had absolutely no qualms in demonstrating his affection for her in front of everyone.
“And for the record, magician,” Kilian said as he settled down onto a chair, throwing a shot of vodka down his throat before continuing, “I very rarely drank with people of the same station as me. I was far more likely found passed out in whorehouses or seedy taverns hidden down back alleys or –”
“Kilian, everyone is listening to you!”
He glanced around the tavern and, sure enough, each and every person in the building was attentively listening to his every word. Kilian shrugged. “It’s hardly as if my social proclivities were unknown. And besides, I won’t be king for much longer anyway.”
“Oh?”
It was Lily who had spoken, who until now hadn’t met a grown-up Kilian. He smiled, standing up only to kneel in front of her and kiss her hand. Her eyes widened in shock.
“Miss Brodeur, I have a great deal to thank you for. For bringing Elina into the world when everyone else would have suggested otherwise. For raising her to be the kind of woman who wouldn’t let me get away with throwing my life away. For instilling in her the desire to do more than simply live in Alder. But, most of all…I wish to apologise.”
Lily looked down at him uncertainly, the blush that spread across her cheeks making her look far younger than she was. In that moment Elina saw the beautiful woman who had raised her – the one who had seduced, and been seduced by, a mysterious magician.
“What could you possibly have to apologise to me for, Your Majesty?” she asked politely.
Kilian’s gaze was steady as he said, “Once upon a time a wonderful woman spun a spoiled, angry little boy a set of clothes that were far too good for him. The boy set them ablaze, for no reason other than the fact that he could. It was certainly not one of his finer moments.”
Lily laughed. “Please get up, Your Majesty. All is forgiven. I’m happy enough to see you wearing clothes from my family at all, even if it took you twenty-one years to accept them.”
He glanced down at his blue-and-gold overcoat before looking at Elina. “Your entire family are certainly very talented. So, tell me, Miss Brodeur, I heard that you’re looking to travel with your daughter come spring. Would you be entirely averse to a third person joining the party? I’ve always wanted to visit Greece.”
Lily frowned, as did several people in the tavern. “Your Majesty, I don’t understand. How can you come travelling when you have a country to run?”
When Kilian caught Frederick’s eye, the man stood up. Elina struggled to hold back a smile; Kilian had thought long and hard about what to do with regards to the crown.
“Over the coming months I’ll be working with representatives from each of the major towns to form a democratic government,” he announced, for the whole tavern to hear. “I think it’s about time our country moves away from a monarchy; it’s outdated and…problematic.” He shared a glance with Elina, who laughed into her hand at the understatement.
“I think most everyone – particularly in Alder – can agree that I’m not fit to sit on the throne,” Kilian continued. “I would be far more comfortable knowing that I have absolutely nothing to do with the maintenance of an entire country. This does mean, however…”
There was a general air of uncertainty at this final sentence. Elina almost hit Kilian for pausing for dramatic effect, especially when he knocked back another shot of vodka.
“This does mean that there’s nothing protecting the country from a harsh winter. We’ll have to work collectively to ensure that what happened twenty years ago does not repeat itself. We cannot be unprepared for such horrific weather again. There will be no magician protecting the land. No mild-mannered king controlling the skies for your benefit. No curses or spells or enchantments making us special.”
The room was silent for a few moments, and then it erupted in an overwhelming wave of noise.
“I knew the curse was real!”
“The king really was controlling the weather? That’s insane!”
“Does that mean Prince Kilian – King Kilian – was responsible for the awful weather over the past few months?”
“Hey, keep your mouth shut. He’s right there…”
Kilian merely laughed at the comment before turning his attention back to Elina and the rest of the table. She stopped him from picking up another glass of vodka.
“Pace yourself, Mister Alcoholic.”
“I can handle three measures of vodka, Elina.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “On your own head be it. But if you pass out in the forest on the way back through to the castle it won’t be my fault.”
“At least the two of you might actually make it that far,” Scarlett complained, struggling beneath a now unconscious Adrian happily dozing on her shoulder. “We’re supposed to be leaving in the morning! There’s no way Adrian will be willing to go anywhere with the hangover he’ll doubtlessly have come sunrise. If only he could still turn into a wolf, we could have left tonight.”
Kilian and Elina stared at her in shock. Lily, however, looked unperturbed; clearly she was privy to Scarlett and Adrian’s full history.
“Did you say wolf?” Elina exclaimed.
Scarlett nodded.
“As in…an actual wolf,” Kilian added, “not some metaphorical wolf?”
She nodded again. “It’s a very, very long story. Perhaps one for the next time we cross paths.”
“And when would that be? How are we supposed to find you?”
“Oh, I have no doubt we’ll find you,” Scarlett said, smiling mysteriously. “We have your hair after all, Kilian.”
He scratched his head. “You can curse me using that, can’t you?”
“Do you really want the truth?”
“…no.”
“Then we can’t curse you using it,” she laughed.
Elina and Kilian glanced at each other, slow, sheepish smiles spreading across their faces. Even though they had managed to free Kilian from the throne, and negated his curse, and Elina had finally made pe
ace with her father being the magician who set everything off in the first place, that didn’t mean they were free from the touch of magic. It would likely follow them wherever they went.
But, for the first time in their lives, they could finally accept that.
Acknowledgements
Snowstorm King was the literal reason I decided to write an entire series of fairy tale retellings. Originally Big, Bad Mister Wolfe was meant to be a one-off, but then I saw a beautiful book cover available for use by Beth Alvarez, and I fell in love. And thus Snowstorm King, and the Chronicles of Curses series, was born!
It was weird writing this book, since the idea and plot stemmed from an existing image rather than the image following the idea. It was certainly an interesting process. I had the flu when I was writing the first half of the book which definitely made me hate it for a while! But I love it now, I swear.
Kilian is horrible. I wish Elina went ahead and slapped him when they first met. This isn’t the last you’ve seen of them (nor of Scarlett and Adrian!) so be sure to stick with the rest of the series to see when they pop up again.
My next fairy tale retelling is Rapunzel. I’m really, really looking forward to writing a ditzy, annoyingly optimistic heroine - it’s not a character I would usually write.
This was supposed to be an acknowledgements section and all I’ve done is talk about what’s next. As always I would like to thank my editor, Kirsty, and my partner, Jake. And my bunnies! But most of all I’d like to thank each and every one of you who decided to pick up a copy of Snowstorm King and read it to the end.
All my love,
Hayley
About the Author
Hayley Louise Macfarlane hails from the very tiny hamlet of Balmaha on the shores of Loch Lomond in Scotland. Having spent eight years studying at the University of Glasgow and graduating with a BSc (hons) in Genetics and then a PhD in synthetic biology, Hayley quickly realised that her long-term passion for writing trumped her desire to work in a laboratory.
Now Hayley spends her time writing across a whole host of genres, particularly realistic science fiction (naturally), urban fantasy and psychological suspense. She supposes that she also writes romance, but it's pretty twisted.
She plans to release a book every month of 2019, and this is her third. So far, so good!
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