“It wasn’t me,” I said, knowing the truth. “Her loyalty is to her sister, not me.” That was a truth I knew in my bones, something that hurt, saying it aloud. It made my decision easier.
Yes, I supposed I’d made my decision hours ago, but I refused to say it aloud until now.
“She belongs with you, not with me,” I whispered, slow to turn away from the window and meet my brother’s incredulous gaze. His amber eyes held confusion and shock; it was quite clear he hadn’t anticipated me saying that. “To have the fire inside of her extinguished… I don’t think I could bear it.”
Ishan’s mouth sat agape for a few moments before he asked, “What are you saying?”
To spell it out in black and white was what my brother needed, and so I did, even though it hurt me further: “You should take her. Make her your bride. One of us should be happy, at least.” The happy one was always Ishan, even before Morana graced the world with her presence, and though I wanted to complain, shout to the skies it was not fair—for it surely wasn’t—I could not. The only thing I could do was bow out of this, walk away, let my brother have the first human that had ever caught his eye.
“And what if she tells me again she does not want to go, hmm?” he questioned, no longer holding his arms behind his back. He now held them at his sides, his stance more relaxed than it was before. Knowing I would give her up put him at ease, certainly.
I thought about telling Ishan to not give her a choice, to simply take her without asking her if she wanted to go, but the mere thought of advising him to do such a thing filled my gut with revulsion. I could not tell my brother to do that, could not have Morana forced into anything else.
None of this was right. Searching for a bride every twenty-five years was a wasted effort, something that would never yield me fruit, a quest that would never be finished. I would only sentence more to the same icy fate. Morana was right; even though I did not freeze them on purpose, knowing their fates and continuing to take human brides was just as wrong.
I was wrong for doing it for so long.
“I can feel the warmth flowing off her when she’s in the room,” I whispered, once again staring out of the window, at the sunlight streaming down on the snowy landscape. “She will choose you, Ishan.” In my heart of hearts, I knew it, and I was somewhat surprised Ishan didn’t know it as well.
Someone like her… I would be a fool to think she could ever belong in this castle with me.
“Go to her,” I said, my spirits at an all-time low as I reached for some parchment on my desk, along with an inkwell, writing down a short note, “tell her the wedding is canceled. Take her with you, somewhere warm.”
After I finished the note, I signed it with Winter, affixing it in an envelope before handing it to Ishan.
He took it, though I could tell by his expression he did not think she would go for it, for him, that Morana would willingly leave this place with him to become his bride instead of mine. But she would. There was not a doubt in my mind she would.
“Brother,” he started, but I waved him off.
“Go.” I could only manage the one word.
It was all I needed, for as I stared at the window, at the reflection of my face and my brother on it, he vanished, leaving me as I always was and as I always would be.
Alone.
Chapter Seven – Summer
I did not peek in the note that Abner gave me, knowing what it said. The gist of it, at least. To open the letter that was meant for Morana would be an invasion of privacy. Then again, showing her the icy brides of my brother was a bit of an invasion, for I’d known all along Abner wanted to keep the truth from her, but that was something I could not let pass.
Morana… I would not let her become one of them, an icy statue trapped in time.
I knew where she was: her room, though it would not be her room for long. I also knew persuading her to come with me would be a challenge, but it was one I would meet head-on, for there was no possible way I would allow her to remain here with my brother, knowing her fate if she did.
She would not turn to ice. I would keep her heart warm and beating for as long as I could, give her a life Abner never could. Summer and Winter were two opposites, and though I loved my brother, this was not something I would concede on.
Popping into her room, I found her sitting on her bed, her hands in her lap, looking quite morose and uncertain. My body ached for her, my heart feeling sorry she had to go through all this. What a journey this entire thing had been, but I hoped we neared the happily ever after part.
When I appeared before her, Morana’s head looked up. Sunlight streamed through the windowpane in her room, illuminating everything in a beautiful, warm orange glow, a glow that was often missing in this castle. Perhaps an omen of what was to come.
“Ishan,” she whispered my name, a prayer on her tongue. “What are you doing here?” When I made no moves to answer, acting as if I was mute, she glanced around, sighing. “Never mind that. I suppose I should start getting ready. I never thought I’d have to be alone on the morning of my wedding, but—” Whatever else she was about to say died in her throat as I handed her the letter.
“Perhaps,” I offered her the letter in my hands as I spoke, “you should read this first, before donning that wedding gown.” It was a dream come true, in a way; I never expected Abner to step aside and let me have her, not when he was so stubborn when it came to everything, but I would not look the gift horse in the mouth.
To think, I’d been prepping myself for a fight. Not a war or anything like that, but I would not let myself stand back and allow Morana to wed Abner without getting myself in the middle of it. Without helping her.
Morana narrowed her gaze at me, and she was measured in standing and snatching the letter from my hand. She opened it with a swiftness that was only matched by the quickness with which she read the note. Those pretty greyish blue eyes darted up to me, her brows furrowing as she said, “What…” Trailing off, she had to read the letter again, and then she flipped the parchment over, as if she expected something to be on the back.
There wasn’t.
When she turned it, I saw the handwriting of my brother. A short letter, signed by him, and I could guess what it said. In no uncertain terms: the wedding was off. Morana was free. Free to live her life and come with me, become Summer’s bride instead of Winter’s.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice catching. The hand holding the paper trembled, and I hope it trembled with sheer joy of the sudden turn of events and not for another reason… such as she had been looking forward to marrying my brother.
No, she’d been kissed by Summer, by me, all her life. If there was a god she should be excited to wed, it should be me.
“There will be no wedding between you and my brother,” I told her, watching as the arm holding the letter fell to her side. I wanted to rush to her, sweep her in my arms, and steal a kiss—and then I wanted to steal another. For the rest of her life, I wanted her by my side.
Morana let out an incredulous gasp, and then her expression changed. Instead of being happy, instead of being thrilled—as she should be, for to marry my brother would be to dig her own grave—she was the very opposite. She was… angry?