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And my hair, my thick, white hair, feels cool and lighter on my scalp.
Himureal turns around and looks at me, a broad smile on his face. "There she is. There she is. That is the Shadowweaver the people will want to see."
Kon turns and looks at me over his shoulder, shrugging. "She's passable now. We'll have to do something about that hair, though. Maybe we can dye it back dark. And she'll need some gloves, of course."
I meet eyes with the Frostweaver over Kon's head, and despite our differences, we can both agree that this guy is fucking insufferable.
Himureal leads us into the ballroom where the gala was held. But this time, it's empty of opulent decorations and tables loaded with delicate food and indulgent drinks. Instead of those things, there are rows of benches where fae sit perched, looking at the small dias ahead of them. It's got a large white birch throne carved with snowflakes and icicles and a smaller dark cherry throne beside it, carved with serpents with ruby eyes.
Gauzy black fabric drapes from the ceiling and frames the windows, and a huge chandelierdrops down to the center of the room, glistening with red gems. Flowers line the rows of benches where the fae sit, small vases of red and white flowers gathered together.
I don't know what Himureal has planned, but I don't think I will like it.
The three of us walk through the center of the benches, and I spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. One, a Neried by the looks of her, sits at the front and looks at me through narrowed eyes. There's a man with a round face and bright blonde hair sitting in the back corner who can't take his eyes off of me, and I cannot remember if I know him at all. Regardless, I make my way to the dias, where Himureal places me in front of what is surely my throne and Kon opposite me.
"Greetings, citizens," Himureal says in a measured tone. "We are here today for a wedding—a joining that will bring strength and prosperity for ages to come. Kon, the Winter Champion, and Viola, the Shadowweaver."
The crowd applauds demurely. The mood in the room is somber.
I guess Ytopie isn't as much a fan of arranged marriages as I thought.
"But first," he continues, turning to look at me. "Daughter, I have a gift for you." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rolled strip of leather. "As you are the first child of a God, I wanted to start a family tradition of such." He turns to look at Kon. "You don't mind, do you?"
What, is Kon going to say that he won't allow it? Ofcourse not. No, he stands silent and gives a tight nod.
Himureal places the rolled piece of leather in my head. "Go on, open it." Carefully, I unwrap the leather, and my breath catches in my chest. I pull out the most beautiful blade I have ever seen. The hilt is firm and sturdy but cool to the touch and appears to be crafted from pure ice. The blade itself is black, with a curve that would perfectly wrap around the delicate flesh of someone's neck. It's got this essence about it, just like Shadow does, that it's not what it seems, and when I run my thumb across it and nothing happens to me, I understand.
"It's made of shadows," I say, gaping at Himureal. "The blade itself was formed out of shadows."
Himureal's face stretches into a wide grin. "I thought you'd love it."
"I really do," I tell him honestly. "I don't think I've seen a more beautiful blade."
It's moments like this that make me see what could've been with Himureal. He could've been a mentor, someone to guide me into my magic if it hadn't been for the way his brain was warped due to centuries of banishment.
"It is yours, daughter." He steps back, and looks back at the gathered crowd. "That blade is a gift for the next part of the ceremony. All weddings officiated by me required a reading of the blood for intentions. Since my daughter has the capability of doing that herself, I will give her the honors."
Finally, Himureal's plan is starting to come into shape in my mind. He should've told me what hisgoal was, but of course, things could not be that easy. I will read Kon's blood, execute him, and then we get to say that I am a cruel God but just, just like the Frostweaver. I don't have to marry Kon and he doesn't have to go back on his word when he promised me to him.
It's a beautiful plan. I almost wish I had some up with it.
Kon gulps. "Reading of my blood?"
I quirk my head to the side. "Don't you worry, my betrothed. It's easy." I step towards him and hold out my hand for his own. He keeps it firm-fisted at his side. "You deny me your hand? What is it in your blood you do not wish your future wife to see?"
The gathered crowd is whispering and shifting uncomfortably in their seats. It's the first time they've seen me presented as a God, and I need to keep in the back of my head that I need them to support me.
"Your hand, please, Kon," I demand, holding my own out. Again, he doesn't move to give it to me. I dart forward quickly and draw the blade down his cheek, cutting a line from brow to chin. He cries out, holding his hand over the wound. "I was just going to prick your finger, but it is clear that you have much to hide. I wonder what it could be."
I hold the blade up in the air, the thick blood dripping down the knife, dilating my eyes and begging me to taste. I stick my tongue out and drag the flat of the knife across my tongue, welcoming the vision that is sure to come.
The images come in flashes, images of women in tears, their bodiestorn to pieces and nearly unrecognizable. I see his mother, an elderly woman with whom he brings food and sits with her twice a week. A trip into the woods surrounding Ytopie, chasing something, someone. Every memory is disjointed, but my stomach is churning, and I feel like I'm going to be sick. These aren't just intentions. These are memories. I ask the blood to show me my parents and show Kon killing the winners, and it shows me nothing but those sickening images of crying women.
Once again, the blood shows me what I need to know.
I come out of the bloodlust, swaying on my feet but with two truths.
Truth one: Himureal lied to me once again. Kon had nothing to do with my parent's death. He made that up to get out of marrying me to Kon.
