I looked into my cobalt eyes and saw a different woman from the one I used to know, a woman visibly burdened by duty, forced into a sacrifice she didn’t want to make. And I did it all to wear a crown upon my brow—a crown that would probably put a kink in my neck.
But it was my duty.
The maids escorted me into the gardens, the lush greenery outside the castle only accessible to the royals, where the weddings were held in view of the nurtured flowers. Every season, there was something else to appreciate, but the winter was the barest.
I always assumed I would marry in spring, when the flowers were the most vibrant and colorful, the warmth enough to cause me a small sweat. Today had a cloudless sky, but it was cold and dry, and I watched my heat leave my body every time I breathed.
Vulgaris stood underneath the white gazebo that had been fitted with hanging flowers, pink and fragrant, harvested from the greenhouse to lie to the sky and proclaim it was spring.
But my bones ached from the cold.
He stood in the same uniform I saw him wear almost every day, no coat because he chose to bear the cold rather than cover the crest upon his chest. Eyes identical to mine in pained indifference, he looked at me like it was any other day—not a wedding day.
Our wedding day.
I approached with unease, with a stiffness that was only partially due to the cold, feeling solemn when my happiness should blossom. To the sound of the harp, I came forth and stood before the priest in white robes who awaited me.
Vulgaris turned to face me. He didn’t offer his hand or let his eyes wander over my dress. He was a stoic man who was hard to read, like a page with ink that bled to the corners. But he seemed to be as dismayed by all of this as I was.
In the presence of my maids, the Ring of Elders, and the High Priest, we married in a winter garden, on the coldest day of the year, the day that my hopes and dreams died in the frozen air.
PROLOGUE IV
HANNE
The crown that belonged to my mother up until the day she died was given to me. It was covered in little diamonds over all the spikes, brilliant with shine and heavy upon my brow. It weighed me down with its power, and it caught my hair every time, plucking the strands from my scalp.
Vulgaris’s crown was made of gold without diamonds or adornment. He looked so much like my father, but far more serious with that permanent frown that seemed carved into his face. The second we were married, he became a king and not a husband, taking care of the affairs of the castle like he’d been prepared for it since the moment he was born.
I was supposed to be Queen of Baccara, the leader of the people, but my services were never needed. Vulgaris spoke with the army and gave his orders. He informed our allies of his new position and proclaimed himself King of Baccara. That statement was correct, but I’d assumed his position would be secondary to mine.
We maintained our separate chambers. Our relationship was exactly as it’d been before. We didn’t take our meals together,didn’t see each other every day. Nothing had changed. I was as lonely as ever—and as worthless as ever.
I went to my father’s study, Vulgaris’s study now, and knocked before I entered.
He sat at the desk, his hand feverishly writing something with an inked quill. “Yes?” He didn’t look up to address me.
I stepped onto the rug and approached the fire near his desk. I sat in the same armchair where I used to sit when I spoke with my father, who always looked up to regard me. “Vulgaris, can we speak?”
“Give me a moment.” He finished the letter then dropped the quill into the bottle of ink. He set it aside on a pile of books so it could dry before he rolled it up and handed it to the guard to deliver to a courier. “What is it, Hanne?” His eyes found mine, unkind and frustrated, not gentle like they’d been during our conversation on the terrace, the last time we’d had a real conversation. “Are you ill?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“You look pale.”
I felt like an idiot, sitting there like a visitor when this desk should be mine. “Vulgaris, I’m Queen of Baccara, but I don’t feel like the queen. My position hasn’t changed, and I wear this crown like a piece of jewelry rather than a recognition of my status.”
He sat with his elbows on the desk, still slightly hunched forward because he’d been invested in that last letter he’d written. He looked somewhat like my father because of their similar ages, but the biggest difference between them was their stares.My father’s was welcoming and warm, whereas Vulgaris’s was almost vicious sometimes. “How would you like to be involved, Hanne?”
“I want to rule.” I’d been demoted from my position the second it was granted to me. “The reason I agreed to this marriage in the first place.”
He sat back in the armchair and watched me for a while. “You don’t know the first thing about running a kingdom.”
“And you do?”
His eyes flashed like he wanted to snap, but he managed to restrain his anger the way a carriage driver restrained his horses before they ran off a cliff. “I served your father every day. I conferred with him in his study. You forget that I was his steward and the general, so my experience is weathered. I’m sorry that you feel ignored, but everything I’ve done thus far is everything you’re unfamiliar with.”
“Then teach me. Otherwise, I’m just sitting in my room reading unsavory books all day.”
