Page 89 of Crown Prince's Mate

“And a bottle of white, as well!” yells Liora, and Gunnar relaxes instantly. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t toy with him a second longer,” she smiles. “He’s under enough stress. He thinks you were pulling a power move, showing up late to the last meeting, and he’s been second-guessing it ever since.”

The servant comes with two bottles, and my cheeks turn the color of the rosé as I remember why I was late. Liora smiles,clinking the freshly poured glass with mine. “Oh, so that was it. I had my suspicions. The way some of the women are ogling them, they’d love to be late for something. But they’ve only got eyes for you.”

I drink the white wine of my homeland, feeling at ease to be with a Virelian. “So, Adriana, when did it change?”

“What?”

“Your feelings for them. You went from hating them to caring for them. I can see it in the way you look at them. When the vote happened, I was thinking you’d drive a knife through their hearts before letting the marriage rituals finish.”

“Somewhere along the way.”

“I thought I’d hate Gunnar forever, for bringing me to this frozen wasteland. Oh, diplomacy. I still long for the forests, but there’s a beauty to this planet, a beauty that grew on me. You may find you feel the same, when you get to Colossus. Will you live there?”

“I don’t know yet.” I find it easy to talk with her. I met her, a few times, what feels like a lifetime ago, back on Virelia.

“You’d miss your family, for sure. How’s your sister doing?”

“Juniper’s always the same. She’s doing great.”

“That dress… perfection. And what a way to start her fashion career. I’ve ordered two to be sent over as soon as she can make them.” She smiles, lost in memories. “I can still remember planting the seeds with Gunnar. Back then, I hoped some blight would stop them from growing. Now I can’t imagine living my life without him. Aric, could we get some smoked trout?” she calls over at the servant boy, who disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a plate of the sliced fish.

“I can’t stand all the heavy food they eat here,” she says, daintily picking up a piece with her fork, and bringing it to her mouth. I try it as well, and it melts in my mouth, lightly smoked, letting the natural flavor of the fish shine through.

“Apparently Aurelians are the same. A diet that seems almost completely composed of red meat.”

She grins. “I’ve added oysters into Gunnar’s diet… he gets an extra… fortitude after around a dozen.”

I sigh. “These three don’t need any extra fortitude.”

“You know, even the hardcore nationalists support you, Adriana. They see the Reavers flying above, over Frostholdian lands, and they see it as a great victory. You’re a bit of a hero here.”

“I don’t feel like a hero. The first Prime Minister to let Aurelian boots on our lands. But if it brings peace, it’ll all be worth it.”

“I’ll toast to that,” says Liora, raising her glass. I clink mine against her, sipping gratefully. It’s nice to be around so much life and noise after walking the icy, barren stretch from the warship to the great hall.

There’s a sudden quiet under the noise of eating, drinking and laughing, and I realize the winds have slowed.

“A good omen. The skies will be clear tonight. You’ve never seen stars like on Frosthold on a clear night. We’re so far from the sun, it’s lit up like a thousand candles.”

Gunnar stands and bangs his fork against his tankard. “Well then! We’ve all been waiting. Tell us, what are the warriors going to hunt down to win the hand of their bride-to-be?”

All talk quiets. There’s a pregnant silence, the band slowing and stopping.

“Stand up,” whispers Liora.

I stand, all eyes on me. “I’d like them to hunt the most ferocious, the most dangerous, the most bloodthirsty…” I pause, and no one is even breathing, bated breath as they wait for my words. Gunnar’s eyes are practically bugging out of his head, and he casts a horrified look at Liora, who is biting her tongue.“Fish in the entire lake!” I yell, and there’s a chorus of laughter. Gunnar wipes sweat off his brow, relaxing.

In the Frostholdian tradition, it’s a great honor bestowed on a prospective suitor. When a man has proved himself a hundred times in battle already, no beast on the entire planet could be his match, and choosing a harmless prey means the bride-to-be has already accepted him.

“Then a fish you will have!” yells Titus, downing his glass of mead. He said he was going easy, but he waves for another mug, enjoying the celebrations.

“I thought you were going to give poor Gunnar a heart attack,” gasps Liora, keeping her face diplomatically blank, not wanting to add to Gunnar’s ups and downs of emotions.

“A little revenge, for all the torment he’s put me through in meetings and negotiations. He’s relentless.”

“That he is, and I love him for it. He’d die for his people. He really would,” she says, looking at her man with pride. I take another bite of smoked trout, and she sips her drink, enjoying the warmth and liveliness. “Better not fill up. I’ve got a feeling they’re going to catch you something big. Shall I take you to where you’ll be spending the night?”

I wince. “Am I going to freeze?”

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