Page 8 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
“I need a moment alone, if I may,” she said sweetly.
Her maids scurried away.
Eirwen went back inside and climbed into her gown. It was white lace, ribbons and pearls. She felt like a fairy creature from long ago.
The maids disappeared after she was readied, and she sat by the window, watching two turtle doves flutter about the snowy grounds. That was probably good luck, on a wedding day.
With nothing else to do, she donned her fur cloak and drifted through the snow banks, following their trail, not thinking about where she was going until she heard a high, clear voice singing a song in another tongue. It was beautiful, sharp and sweet, and belonging unmistakably to the queen.
The steam rose and parted, but Eirwen could not see her future stepmother. Inside, a figure with pitch-black hair sat in the pool, singing of love and wonder.
Did the queen wear a wig? Or did she have some ancient fairy trinket, that gave her the power to look as she did?
The song stopped. “Who’s there?” said the voice, the sharpness of it turning steely.
Eirwen bolted, ashamed of her prying eyes, and mentioned not one word of it to anyone.
∞∞∞
Things did not improve between her and Cole after the wedding. His sourness was not isolated to her. Indeed, every courtier, every servant, every person in the castle aside from his esteemed mother fell victim to his foul moods at one point or another. Eirwen had tried her best to be welcoming. She’d brought him lemon and honey tea for his cold, gave him a tour of the castle, told him the names of the nicest servants and pointed out the guards to avoid if you ever wanted to sneak down to the kitchens for a sweet treat after supper.He seemed thoroughly disinterested in making friends.
“I don’t think Cole likes it here very much, Papa,” she said one evening, as she sat alone with her father by the fireside.
Her father smiled and stroked her hair. “Give it some time, little dove. It is very different from what he’s used to, and it has been just him and his mother for a long time. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a sister.”
“I don’tfeellike his sister…” she said. The word was alien to her, foreign on her tongue.
“In time, I’m sure you will.”
The next day, his father called both her and Cole to the training grounds and equipped them both with swords.
“What am I doing here?” Cole drawled.
“What does it look like?” said Olwen, gesturing to his daughter.
Eirwen beamed, warming up her muscles and testing her gear.
Cole raised an eyebrow. “It’s not fair to fight a girl.”
“Don’t worry,” said Eirwen sweetly, “I’ll go easy on you.”
He snorted, taking the first lunge. She parried it, but was surprised by his speed and strength. He was definitely stronger than her. Not quite as fast, but almost. She avoided his next attack, deftly leaping out of the way.
Cole smirked. “Your footwork is fancier outside of a dance,” he said.
“Youtry dancing in court shoes next time,” Eirwen snapped back.
Olwen laughed.
Cole chased her over the ring.
“Come on, Snow Princess, stand and fight!”
“My name is Eirwen,” she said. “And I will fight when I am ready.”
He took another swipe. “And when will that be?”
He lunged overhead. She slid her blade up to his hilt and twisted, turning his own strength against him. His sword clattered to the ground.
