Chapter 19
SERAPHINA
The chapel is small and private, tucked away in the eastern wing of the palace where few would think to look. There are no guests, no celebration, no flowers decorating the altar.
Just me, Lord Kingston Gravehood, and the elder who will perform the ceremony.
And my parents, standing as witnesses to this desperate gamble.
I smooth my hands over the ivory silk of my dress, one of Mother’s, hastily altered to fit me. It’s beautiful, with delicate embroidery along the bodice and sleeves that flow like water. Under different circumstances, I might have loved wearing it.
But this isn’t a real wedding. This is survival.
Lord Kingston stands beside me at the altar, tall and composed in formal dark gray. He’s handsome in a refined way—golden hair, warm brown eyes, a kind smile. When he arrived yesterday in response to Father’s urgent message, he listened to our situation without judgment and agreed immediately.
“I understand what you’re asking,” he’d said quietly. “A marriage in name only. Protection for you and your son. I can offer that.”
He didn’t ask for details about Kieran, didn’t demand explanations. Just accepted the terms and agreed to wed me before the tournament ends tomorrow.
I should be grateful. I am grateful.
But standing here beside him, about to speak vows that will bind us for life, all I feel is hollow.
Luna paces restlessly in my mind. “Wrong. This is wrong. He’s not our mate.”
“I know,” I whisper back. “But it’s the only way.”
Once we’re married, Lord Kingston will formally claim Azriel as his ward. The legal complications will tie Kieran up for months, maybe years. By the time he can challenge it, we’ll be long gone to the Western territories.
It has to work.
The elder opens his ceremonial book, his ancient voice carrying in the quiet chapel. “We are gathered here in the sight of the Moon Goddess to witness the union of Princess Seraphina of the Eastern Kingdom and Lord Kingston Gravehood of the Western Territories.”
My hands tremble slightly. Lord Kingston notices and gives me a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He knows this isn’t what either of us wanted.
“Marriage is a sacred bond,” the elder continues. “A joining of two souls, two families, two destinies. It is not to be entered into lightly, but with full knowledge of the commitment being made.”
I swallow hard. Commitment. For the rest of my life, I’ll be bound to this kind stranger who agreed to save me out of political interest and perhaps pity.
“If anyone here knows of any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
The chapel doors explode open.
The sound echoes like thunder through the small space, and I spin around, my heart stopping.
Kieran stands in the doorway, and the temperature in the room plummets.
He’s in his formal tournament attire, black and silver, that makes him look every inch the Ice King. But it’s his eyes that freeze me in place. Ice-blue and absolutely lethal as they sweep the chapel, taking in the scene with devastating accuracy.
The fury that crosses his face makes my blood run cold.
“Stop this ceremony.” His voice is cold. Controlled. But I hear the rage simmering underneath. “Now.”
The elder freezes, his book trembling in his hands. Father steps forward, his expression hardening. “King Kieran, this is a private ceremony. You have no right!”
“No right?” Kieran’s laugh is sharp and humorless. “You’re marrying off the mother of my son to steal my heir, and you think I have no right?”
He stalks into the chapel, and I notice Commander Thane and Northern warriors behind him, hands on their weapons. “Step away from him, Seraphina. Now.”
“You can’t just burst in here and—” I start.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want when you’re trying to steal my son.”
“This marriage is legitimate,” Mother says, but even she sounds uncertain now. “Lord Kingston has agreed—”
“I don’t give a damn what Lord Kingston agreed to.” Kieran’s attention shifts to him, predatory and lethal. “You have ten seconds to walk out of this chapel. Or I’ll have my men drag you out. Your choice.”
“You’re threatening a lord of the Western territories—” Lord Kingston begins.
“I’m promising the annihilation of the Western territories if you don’t get away from her.” Kieran moves closer, and Lord Kingston actually takes a step back. “You want Eastern alliances because your trade with the North has bled you dry? Marry her, and I’ll make sure you starve come winter. Every port. Every trade route. Gone.”
His eyes are wild now, barely controlled fury. “But that’s not even the best part. The best part is what I’ll do to you personally for thinking you could touch what’s mine.”
“Seraphina is not property,” Father says, his hand moving toward his sword.
“Pull that blade, and this becomes a bloodbath.” Kieran doesn’t even look at him, his eyes still locked on Lord Kingston. “Your daughter is the mother of my heir. My son. My blood. And this fucking charade ends now.”
“The law—” Mother starts.
“The law?” Kieran finally tears his gaze away to look at her, and his smile is terrifying. “The law says Azriel carries my blood. Northern blood. That makes him mine. And I will go to war with every kingdom in this realm before I let some desperate Western lord claim him as his ward.”
He turns back to me, and the possessiveness in his eyes steals my breath. “You have until dawn to bring Azriel to my delegation. Both of you. Willingly.”
“And if I refuse?” My voice shakes, but I force the words out.
“Then I take him anyway.” His voice goes soft, deadly. “You think marrying some Western lord will keep me from my son? All it will do is prove you’d rather defy me than be his mother. So when I take Azriel to Winterhold, you’ll stay here with your new husband. And I’ll make sure he forgets you ever existed.”
“You can’t!”
“I can, and I will.” He leans closer, and I smell pine and snow and rage. “You had years to come talk to me. Work something out like adults. Instead, you hid, you ran, and now you’re trying to trap some fool into saving you.”
The accusation hits like a slap. My throat tightens, but I force myself to hold his gaze.
He straightens, addressing the entire chapel now. “Dawn. My delegation. Both of them. Or I march my army to these gates and take what’s mine by force.” His eyes sweep across my parents, Lord Kingston, the terrified elder. “And anyone who tries to stop me will learn exactly why they call me the Ice King.”
“You’d start a war over this?” Father’s voice is tight.
“I’d burn this entire kingdom to ash for my son.”
