She watched, mesmerized. Enchanted. Enthralled. The young man dancing across the frozen surface moved with a fluidity of ease she had never seen before. He was as graceful as water. As lithe as a feline. As handsome as the perfect sunrise.
“That’s Rowan, youngest son of the Elven King Nicholas,” Aunt Crystal said in the hushed snow covered silence. Over the gentle whispers of the drifting snowflakes, the only sound was the music of silver skates cutting into the glassy surface of the pond.
“He’s so graceful,” Snow whispered. She watched as he leapt into the frosty air with the beauty and elegance of starlight on snow. His long blonde hair, held back in two small tight braids at his temples, swung wildly around his pale elfish face. Arms were held and then tucked in as he increased the speed of his spin.
She rubbed her nose and cheeks, pink from the cold as once more Prince Rowan dazzled with close cutting footwork as he marked and scarred the once glossy, glassy surface of ice.
Crystal nodded. “The Evergreen Clan is renowned for their composure and grace. Wait until you see them at the First Night ice festival. They all take to the ice beneath the glow of the moon,” she sighed in anticipation of the event. “It’s something to behold. Watching them can be hypnotic. You should see them walk on snow. They’re like a puma, walking above the snow line, never leaving a print, not even in soft powder snow.”
“I could watch him all day,” Snow confessed, blushing slightly. She exhaled, her breath forming and shimmering in a steamy mist in the dim fall sky. With a gentle finger she dispersed the partially frozen drops and giggled with delight. “I’ve never been anywhere this cold,” she said. “It’s so beautiful here.”
“You probably shouldn’t get too attached to Prince Rowan,” Crystal cautioned, worry marring her brow to see her niece so enamored by the young prince.
“Why?” Snow said on a breathy whisper. “I thought the fae were free to marry whomever they choose.”
“Fae are,” Crystal said. “But Rowan lives under Nicholas’s rules and the king doesn’t approve of matches between magical folk.” One shoulder lifted. “Or between magical folk and mortals, either, for that matter.”
The blades on Rowan’s feat hissed to a halt as he saw their sleigh come closer. His eyes met Snow’s and for a moment, he seemed about to stumble but with cat-like grace caught himself before slipping off the axle of his balance. He approached them, his dark eyes lighting with recognition. “Guardian Crystal,” he called formally. “So good to see you again.” He bowed.
Crystal curtseyed and after a moment’s hesitation Snow copied her. “Prince Rowan, we didn’t mean to disturb you. I was bringing my apprentice Snow Angel to Ice Keep and saw you skating. Snow, this is the youngest son of King Nicholas, Prince Rowan.”
“My Lord,” Snow said.
“Please, call me Rowan,” the young man said with a slight smile.
Admiration shown in Snow’s eyes as she soaked in the details of the prince. He was tall and lithe with dark eyebrows and eyes which stood in sharp contrast to this winter pale skin and hair. His lean chest was covered in a white shirt and vest. Snow blushed and looked down. Leather britches encased his muscular thighs. She noted his mantle was discarded on a small stone bench behind him.
He smiled in full and Snow Angel felt a responding tug in her heart and soul.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Rowan,” Snow said with a giggle, interest brightening her blue eyes. She tugged her blue wool cloak tighter around her shoulders. Did she appear shabby to this fashionable prince?
“And you as well, Snow Angel.”
“Oh. Please. Call me Snow,” she said with a breathy sigh.
“Would you like to dance with me?” he invited.
“Dance?”
“On the snow.”
“Oh, I’m very bad,” Snow said. “And not in that way that mortals sometimes say they’re bad at something, looking for compliments. I do not suffer from false modesty. Trust me, when I say I’m laughably bad at it, I am.”
“You are far too light on your feet to be bad at ice dancing, Snow. Look, you hardly left a mark on the snow at all.”
Snow shook her head, whispers of her moon glow hair dancing in the wind. “The Pixies were going to teach me to ice dance this season. My efforts have humbled me.” Her voice rose with her snort of self-derision, echoing and bouncing against firn and glacier.
“I’ll teach you. Pixies may be good at many things, Snow, but I assure you, I’m a better teacher.”
“Such arrogance,” Snow teased and tensed when her aunt gasped at her audacity. Would the prince take offense?
“Merely elfish confidence,” Rowan corrected, with a grin.
“We really should be going, my lord,” Crystal said, taking Snow’s hand to pull her away from the nearly magnetic attraction field between Snow and Rowan.
“Nonsense,” Rowan said, and with a wave of his hand Snow’s boots were replaced with leather soled dancing shoes. “We’ll save skates for when you feel more confident on the ice,” he said.
“How did you do that?” Snow said with a giggle, admiring her new shoes.
“Christmas magic,” Rowen said with an artless wave of his hand. He took her hands in his and pushed away from the shoreline and headed deeper into the center of the pond.
“It’s only early October,” Snow contradicted.
“My father is King Nicholas. It’s Christmas all year long here.”
“How convenient.”
“I certainly think so.”
“Dinner is at six,” Crystal called, walking slowly back towards her sleigh. She touched the reins lightly and the reindeer moved forward. “She can’t be late, my lord. We will be meeting everyone at Ice Keep.”
“I will get her there on time,” Rowan said, his dark eyes meeting Crystal’s gaze. “You have my word on it.”
“And will you join us for dinner, Prince Rowan?”
Rowan executed a formal bow. “It will be my eternal pleasure, Lady Guardian.”
Together, they glided across the surface of ice. “Let go, lovely Snow. Trust in your partner,” he said.
Snow lifted her hands with glee and relaxed. He took her around the edges of the pond and she found herself laughing with abandon. “Lift me,” she urged. “I want to fly.”
Rowan slowed for a moment, his hands on her back. “Can you fly, little fairy?”
“Of course, but my wings are tucked in for warmth. I want to fly in your arms.”
“As you wish,” he said, taking them around the pond, gathering speed. He propelled her into a lift and she arched, feeling the icy sting of the air against her cheeks.
He set her down, carefully and cleared her eyelashes of stray strands of hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “May I kiss you?”
Snow bit her lip and nodded. Her eyes drifted close and she waited. Patiently. Until finally, he rewarded her with a whisper of a kiss.
Confused, she opened her eyes and stared up at him. He tugged on her hands and again propelled her into dancing to music only he could hear.
“We should get you to Ice Keep soon,” Rowan said.
The false forever twilight confused Snow as to the passage of time. “Without the sun and moon, how do you reference the time?
“Watches,” he said with a grin, exposing his wrist.
“How positively modern of you!”
“Well, we can’t let the humans have everything, can we?” Rowan asked, twirling her one last time.
“I don’t want to leave.” Snow’s eyes filled with tears and she reached out one tentative hand and touched Rowan’s chest. “How is it possible to feel like this when we just met?”
“Christmas magic?” Rowan whispered, his cocky grin gone with the heat of the moment.
“Will it go away when Christmas is gone?”
He shook his head before bending to brush his lips against hers once more. “Remember? My father is King Nicholas and it is Christmas all the time here.”
The kiss was deeper this time. More confident. His lips were warm. Firm. Seeking. She whimpered slightly in response. “I’ve never been kissed before,” she said, reaching for his touch. His taste. “But you seem uncommonly good at it.”
“I don’t see how,” he said, rubbing his nose against hers. “I am as new to this as you, my love,” Rowan whispered, his voice gathered on the snow and was blown into the horizon by the winds. Soft heat surrounded them. Enclosed them. Enveloped them in a bubble of desire and budding love.
“I promised your aunt I would get you to the Keep on time,” he said. Wish a wave of his hands, her warm sturdy boots were once more on her feet. Regret shone in his eyes as he offered her his arm.
“Will you escort me to dinner? Will you need to change?”
“I am a Prince Rowan of Glacier Keep, North Pole,” he said, his cocky grin back in place. “I will be delighted to escort you to dinner while you meet your new colleagues. Winter is kind of a big deal here, you know,” he finished, beginning the steady walk towards the distant building.
“Really?” Snow teased, blinking her eyes in mock innocence. “By all means, tell me more.”
He laughed and in a flash the haughty prince was replaced once more by Rowan, lover of ice dancing and kisser extraordinaire.
“Does my hair look okay?” Snow said to the young maid sent to help her dress. “Are my plaits straight?” She turned this way and that in front of the old mirror, admiring her new dress.
“They look lovely, Lady Apprentice,” Odella said, smoothing Snow’s hair. “Do you like your new gown? It is a gift from Serena of the Silver Falls clan. My mother is their most gifted weaver.”
Snow slid her hands down the beaded white dress. A rainbow of color refracted in each bead, giving the gown an ethereal and otherwordly look. “It’s lovely,” she said. “It feels like a second skin. Please, give your mother my thanks.” The dress pulsed around her, warm and inviting, cradling her in a soft cocoon of love. “Thank her for thinking of my wings,” she said, letting them lift her in a whimsical circle around the room.
Odella put small crystal pins in Snow’s braids until it looked more like a diamond diadem than a single braid. Snow bit her lip as she stared at her reflection. “I look. Exquisite,” she said, cautiously. Examining the word as though unfamiliar with it. Snow had always admired Autumn’s rich red hair and thought her own to be plain and almost colorless. Even Hyacinth and Strawberry had shades of blondes and golds and copper in their hair. But here, in the clear sky of the North Pole, Snow felt calm. At peace.
Beautiful.
Rowan waited at the bottom of the steps to escort her to dinner. Snow’s wings fluttered with nervousness. “There are so many people,” she said.
“Close to two hundred,” Rowan said. “Did your mother not prepare you?”
“No, not for this,” she said. “My mother was a fifth daughter and inherited the responsibility to give birth to the next generation of Guardians. My parents are guardians of Firefly Glen, a small area with brownies, pixies, and naiads. Nothing like the grandeur of Ice Keep,” she said with a sigh.
Crystal had already assumed her seat in the center of the raised table. Her chief advisor, Aerick of Sea Haven, sat beside her.
“You’re a prince,” she said, eyes opening wide.
Rowan raised an eyebrow and brushed a gossamer thin kiss across her forehead. “I thought we covered that, bella.”
Snow licked her lips, both at the nickname and the desire to reach out for another kiss. A real kiss. One with his lips, she decided.
“No, I know. I just meant. How many live under your father’s protection?”
Rowan shrugged. “Thousands, I think. I can ask his advisor for the exact number if you need it.”
“Thousands?” Snow staggered and Rowan caught her against him.
“You forget,” he teased. “I’m the youngest of five sons. My oldest brother has already mated and has a son and a daughter. There is virtually no chance of me ever inheriting the title or Glacier Keep.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Snow admitted. “Of you being in line for the throne.”
“It takes a lot of hands to create toys for children of the world,” he reminded her. “We have a lot of work to do every year, you know. It’s a whole industry.”
“I guess, I just,” Snow said, stumbling for words. She looked at their hands, laced together. As intertwined as their lives were becoming. “Your father is St. Nicholas.”
“A descendent,” Rowan said. “Not the original.”
“I thought elves were immortal.”
“Not so, bella. There are two ways an elf can die.”
Rowan’s eyes were steady as he continued to lead Snow to her place at the table. “Tell me,” she whispered.
“An elf can die in battle.”
She nodded. “Fairies, too. Have there been many battles?”
Rowan continued their walk around the Great Hall. “Only one in recent memory,” he said. Her dress stirred and writhed with distress. “My father’s twin brother, Krampus, attacks every few years in the hopes of one day taking over the throne. That is why we were given land in the North. Krampus does not like the cold and we have better line of sight in case of attack.”
Snow gripped his hand a little tighter. “Did you suffer many losses?”
Rowan nodded. “Too many. And for a while, we thought we might lose my father even though he survived the battle.”
“Why?”
“Eves can also die from a broken heart,” he said, his haunted eyes meeting hers. “The losses mounted into the dozens. Dozens of good men and women died protecting their king.”
“What does your uncle want? My friend Toffee says Krampus is evil, but brownies can sometimes exaggerate.” She didn’t want to mention the sharp teeth and gnashing of brownies. That seemed quite ridiculous after meeting Rowan.
Rowan nodded. “He wants the power of being the next Sinterklaas. For the power of being able to travel the world in minutes. For the power of stealth. He won’t deliver toys to the children, Snow. He will deliver mayhem and death. Knowing these brave souls died protecting him and his sons tore at my father and nearly broke him.”
“Is Glacier Keep fortified? Protected?”
“Yes. In addition to the walls, we live under a dome Father generated. It allows us all four seasons so we can grow food and hunt game.”
She placed her slim hand against the pristine white shirt he wore beneath his leather vest. His heart beat slowly and steadily. His stood tall and proud and she was slightly in awe at the picture he presented. “If you trust me with it, I would care for it as though it was made of spun glass,” she vowed, nodding to his heart.
His index finger touched her at heart center before trailing gently up to her chin, lifting it so their eyes met and held. “As we grow closer, our hearts will become intertwined. Interdependent on each other. If you hurt, I will be hurt. That can be dangerous to both of us if we’re afraid. Are you sure?”
She stood on her toes to kiss the point of his chin. “I’m sure.”
Chapter Two
“You cannot court a fairy in training,” King Nicholas said with bitter derision in his voice.
“She’s an apprentice,” Rowan corrected. “A future Season Guardian, even. And you’re wrong, Father. There is nothing in either current Elven or Fae law that says we cannot court or mate.”
“Fairies are fickle. Many take multiple lovers. Are you prepared for that?”
Rowan arched his eyebrow in disbelief. “Some fairies are fickle, Father. So are some elves.”
“And elf cannot take more than one lover,” his father said sternly. “Are you prepared if she does?”
“It won’t happen,” Rowan said with a confident smile. “Snow is too loyal and admires Iolanthe’s devotion to her mate. She will not be fickle with me. Frankly, Father, I’m a little disappointed in you. It isn’t like you to prejudge people. You haven’t even met Snow, yet
.”
His father’s eyes grew serious and he pulled at the collar of his fur cloak. “You’re an Elf, son. Our work here in the North Pole is important. You’re in line for the throne…”
Rowan rolled his eyes. “Father, I’m your fifth son and we live for centuries. Ames is married and has two children. That puts me seventh in line. At least until Birch, Ashe, and Elder mate which I’m sure they will. That puts me so far down the line, it would take a tragedy of titanic proportions to put me in charge. I don’t think the throne is any danger.”
“And my brother? He is constantly on the prowl, looking for weaknesses. Seeking to exploit some vulnerability within our ranks.”
“There will be no division, Father, if you accept our union.”
His father stood to his full height, but Rowan was no longer a boy, easily cowed. He squared his shoulders and looked at his father. “You’re questioning hundreds of years of Elven Law, Rowan. The fae are not immortal. What will you do when she dies?”
“Neither are we, Father. When she dies, I will probably join her.
“And if you have sons or daughters that need to be raised like I did?”
“Then I will carry on as you did after the death of my mother,” Rowan returned.
“It’s dangerous to love too much,” Nicholas said, his shoulders sagging. For the first time, Rowan could see the toll of age and responsibility. It scared him, this thought of living without either of his parents and for a brief moment, he wondered how mortals ever got used to it.
“It’s dangerous not to love at all. Isn’t that what happened to your brother?” Rowan stood to his full height, challenging his father.
Nicholas sighed. “My brother had a dark stain at birth that grew until he was more Dark Elf than anything else. He didn’t love and made it difficult for others to love him. His conversion to drow and demon was remarkably quick.”
“Do you think that can happen to us? Here?”
“It can happen anywhere, Rowan, as my own parents learned. We have been lucky here in Glacier Keep.”
“Do you feel you can’t trust your throne to a son who fell in love with a fairy?” He stood, silent. One eyebrow raised. He had seen his father assume this position many times over the last decades. He could wait his father out.
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