I found myself in the grand hall, where my throne sat. The candelabras on the walls had dimmed with nightfall, though they still shone enough light to see. Shadows danced across everything, the room feeling smaller in the darkness. It held nothing but my throne, a regal carpet on the floor, rolled out from the fancy seat, where fellow guests would stand. If I ever had any guests.
I didn’t. It was always just me.
Me and only me, unless I called for my messenger. When my messenger was not here, he was simply not anywhere. I supposed he was a manifestation of my magic. It wasn’t as if he was a real person with his own thoughts or anything like that. He was just another part of me, when you got down to it.
This would be the room I would wed her in. This had been the room I’d wed the others in. I did not like thinking about the others, not when a new bride waited for me—a new bride, new possibilities, new hope. If I didn’t believe in that, if I let go of that hope… what would I have?
Nothing. The answer to that was nothing. I would have nothing but the core of what I was, and that was such a depressing thought.
I moved toward my throne, running a hand over it. I did not often sit in it, for sitting there, staring at an empty room, at the windows built in a half-circle around the backside of the throne and seeing the empty, cold landscape… it was too much. Too much of nothing.
Heaving a sigh to myself, I turned around, not knowing where I would wander to next, but knowing I would wander nonetheless. However, as I turned, I spotted something truly strange.
A girl. A girl who wore a silver dress that sparkled in the dim light. She’d come from one of the connecting halls, having walked quietly, soundlessly, so noiselessly I hadn’t heard her. Or perhaps I was simply too lost in my own sorrow to pay attention to the world around me, too accustomed to being alone in this big castle to realize someone else was here.
My soon-to-be bride, who should be in her assigned room, fast asleep.
She held her shoulders back, her head high, causing her yellow hair to tumble over her shoulders and down her back. The dress she’d chosen fit her well, perfectly, one might say. Though she was a good ways away from me, I could tell she was beautiful. Most usually were. Still, their beauty was never enough. Beauty was easy to attain; the fire I searched for… not nearly as much.
The girl had spotted me, and I suddenly felt weight pulling down my shoulders, as if it was all too much, so I lumbered to the throne and sat myself down, exhaling a slow, labored breath. I did not wear a crown, but she had to know who I was.
My brother danced between the humans, making himself invisible to them, but I was so used to being alone in this castle, I never used that power of mine. I was just so tired.
I dropped my gaze away from the girl, wishing she would go away. Go back to her room, get in that bed after changing into nightclothes, and sleep. I could not remember any of the others wandering the castle after being told to remain in their room; from what I held in memory, they’d all listened.
The girl, however, did not seem to take the hint. Once she saw me, she started to approach me, her feet carrying her across the long carpet, her intent to speak to me, I guess. I did not find the prospect thrilling; I knew I was not a very good conversationalist, nor was I very kind. Sometimes I could be abrasive and cruel, if my brother was truthful in how he described me.
“Forgive me,” she started, stopping when she stood less than ten feet away from me, from my hunched position. “I do not know if I should curtsey or bow—”
“Neither,” I muttered, sluggishly drawing my gaze off the floor and dragging it up her dress, stopping only when I stared into her eyes. A greyish blue, more grey than blue currently, in the shadows. In the sunlight, something that hardly ever graced this mountain, I was certain they looked bluer.
She was pretty. Not that I expected differently, but she was pretty in a way the others weren’t. Her skin was more sun-kissed than the others, the yellow in her hair golden. She looked as if she was born to play a role for Summer, for Ishan, not me.
“You are him, then,” she said.
“I would not be sitting on this throne if I was not.” My tone came off jarring and cold, but I could not change it. I set my cheek on a knuckle, leaning off to the side as I crossed my legs, continuing to hold her stare.
What did she think of me? I wondered. If only I could peer into that head of hers.
“I am Morana. What do I call you?”
Waiting a few moments to respond, I frowned. “Winter.”
“Surely you have a name.”
Grinding my jaw, I said, “Abner, though I would prefer it if you continued to call me Winter.” Ishan might like to go by his name, but it was easier for him to separate from his power, from his season. Me? The cold was too much a part of me, as much as I hated it. “Why are you wandering these halls, Morana? Were you not told to stay in your room?”
“I was,” she spoke with a shrug. My icy tone clearly did not affect her. I supposed that was a good thing, for some of my old brides, they’d flinched after every single word I said to them.
I lifted my eyebrows, waiting for her to say more.
“My parents often told me to do a lot of things,” Morana spoke, breaking eye contact with me as she wandered to the windows lining my back. I did not lean forward and peer over my shoulders to watch her, even though I wanted to. This one… I did not know what to make of her. “Things which I ended up ignoring.”
After a while, she reappeared in front of me, though she stood less than half the distance away that she had before. The attitude on her face was almost refreshing, and I found myself waiting with bated breath to hear what she would say next.
“Including finding a husband,” she finished.
“Normally, are humans not forced to listen to the word of their parents? I was under the impression it was common law, especially for females.” Girls were bred to listen to their parents, and then to their husbands. It was how every other bride of mine was raised, although their subservience was never a saving grace. If anything, it only helped to fill them with my chill faster.
A tiny smirk grew on her face, though I could tell it was not one of happiness. “Yes, us females are supposed to worship you men, aren’t we? Magical gods aside,” she added with a wave of her hand. “I had plenty of suitors who would’ve taken me from my parents’ home and wed me.” She sounded almost bitter as she relayed that part to me.
I could not help but wonder aloud: “Then why didn’t you?”
Morana let out a chuckle. “I wanted freedom. I wanted to make my own choices. I came up with the idea of building myself a home on the outskirts of my village, content to be the town crazy.”
That… I’d never heard of anything similar from any of my other brides, so I didn’t know how to respond to that. So I didn’t. I kept quiet, feeling myself continue to frown at this girl and her attitude.
“But then your messenger came to town,” she went on. “He chose my sister as your bride.”
“Yet here you are, instead.”
“Yes, here I am. I took her place, because she’d already found her happiness.” Morana broke away her strong gaze, staring at something on the floor. “I’m under no impression that I will be happy here, but I would rather be here than force my sister to marry you while knowing she would never like it.”