Now that they were wed, Evangeline kept bracing for Apollo to drop her hand, to spear her with an angry glare, to shake his head as if waking from a dream. But if anything, he held her tighter. He looked at her more reverently—as if there really had been magic in their vows and they were truly joined together.
Moments after the ceremony, they were poured into a silver sled pulled by a pack of snow-white wolves. Apollo kept her warm, holding her close as they glided to a castle of ice, built only to last for this one single night. Glowing blue and ephemeral and transcendently lovely, the sight made it easier to hope and believe that their story was just beginning.
Oh, how she wanted to believe.
Inside the gleaming glass-like walls, guests were given shining silver goblets of mulled wine and individual forest-green cakes that tasted like luck and love. Instead of musicians, a grand music box opened and life-size clockwork players stepped out to perform an endless stream of ethereal sounds. The notes were like threads of gossamer and tails on kites, springy and enchanting in a way that made Evangeline think of warning fables of boys and girls so bewitched with magic songs that they danced until they died.
Apollo downed the contents of a goblet in one draft before turning his attention to the chattering crowd of courtiers and Northern nobles. “Thank you all for being here to celebrate the greatest day of my life. I didn’t actually have a wish to be married until meeting my beloved Evangeline
Fox. In honor of my bride, you’ll notice there are ghost foxes here.” He waved his empty goblet toward a merry fox made of smoke perched atop an ice sculpture of a stag. “These are special creatures. Charm one and you’ll receive a gift, so that you may find love, too.”
“To love and to foxes!” cheered the crowd, voices echoing against the sparkling ice.
Evangeline took a drink from her goblet, but she could barely swallow. Her throat was too tight with so many fears lodged in it as she waited for Apollo to fall out of love with her.
Why wasn’t he falling out of love?
She didn’t want him to stop loving her, but this waiting felt like torture as well.
Apollo graced her with a dreamy smile as a slower song drifted from the clockwork players and floated across the glistening ice. “Are you ready to finally have our first dance?”
Evangeline managed to nod as her eyes darted over his broad shoulders to search for Jacks’s face among the crowd. What was he waiting for?
Was Jacks’s magic broken? Had he forgotten? Was he even at the wedding?
Evangeline forced herself to keep dancing, to keep smiling. But the wings at her back grew heavier with every twist and twirl. Jacks didn’t appear to be in the crowd. He wasn’t there to fix Apollo. Unless …
What if Jacks wasn’t there because the spell had already broken? And maybe it didn’t feel as if it had broken because Apollo had actually come to love her. It was probably too much to hope for, but Evangeline had always had a weakness for hoping in things others thought impossible.
She dared to meet her husband’s eyes. In the past few days, she’d seen stars shine in his gaze and infatuation cloud his vision. But right now, Apollo’s eyes were just eyes. Brown and warm and steady.
“How do you feel?” she asked. “Do you feel any differently from this morning?”
“Of course, my heart. I’m married to you.” He pulled her closer, the hand at her waist sliding under her wings as it traveled up her spine, sending fresh shivers over her skin. “I feel the confidence of a hundred
kings and the passion of a thousand princes. I could do battle with Wolfric Valor tonight and come out victorious.”
His gaze might have smoldered then. Undoubtedly still enchanted.
But, like last night, it didn’t feel quite so terrible. Wasn’t this the way that a groom was supposed to look at his bride right after their wedding? She knew Apollo was still under a curse, but Evangeline hoped that he was also starting to fall a little in love with her.
He twirled her around the floor once more, and Evangeline didn’t look for Jacks. She would look for him again, but not yet. Not now. Not during her first dance. She would just enjoy this one moment. Then she’d find Jacks and get him to break the spell.
Apollo brushed his lips to Evangeline’s temple.
Excited murmurs ebbed their way through the crowd. It sounded like a moving smile, like joy and bubbles. And then. Hush.
A wave of quiet moved across the glittering ice castle.
Evangeline looked away from her groom, expecting that Jacks had finally arrived. But everyone was staring at another young man dressed in a striped green doublet.
He wasn’t particularly tall, and his build was rather slight, but he glided through the crush like a person in possession of power, shoulders straight, head tipped high, eyes daring anyone to tell him not to interrupt the bride and groom’s first dance.
Evangeline watched whispers die on lips and jaws of shocked faces hang open. By the time this young man reached Evangeline and Apollo, the entire ballroom was silent, save for the odd chime of music box instruments and the soft pitter-patter of ghostly fox feet.
“Hello, brother,” the stranger said, his voice soft and a little damaged as if it had been recently lost and only just recovered.
So this was the mysterious Tiberius. They didn’t look like brothers. Although Evangeline didn’t get much of a chance to examine him before Apollo stopped dancing and quickly hid her behind his back.
Tiberius laughed.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Apollo said.
“Then why is your hand on the hilt of your sword? Do you think I’m going to tell her—”
Apollo pulled the blade from his sash.
Half the wedding guests gasped, and a few might have clapped, eager for a royal brawl.
Evangeline needed to do something now. She’d suspected there was bad blood between Apollo and Tiberius, but she didn’t think Apollo would be so prone to violence if he hadn’t still been enchanted to be so obsessed with her.
She stepped between her groom and his brother. “My dearest.” Evangeline pressed a hand to Apollo’s chest. But the action no longer appeared to be necessary.
As soon as she called him dearest, Apollo’s entire demeanor changed. She’d never used an endearment with him before, and now that she had, he looked as if he could have dropped the sword and kissed her in the middle of the dance floor.
Tiberius choked back another laugh. “I can’t believe the rumors are true
—you love her. Or you’ve been bewitched.”
Evangeline turned brittle. She hoped he was kidding, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he suspected the truth, and this was why the brothers had their most recent falling-out.
Apollo shook her off and lifted his sword, rage flashing in his eyes once more. “Insult my wife again, and I’ll cut your tongue from your mouth.”
“My dearest,” Evangeline tried again. But the words didn’t have the same effect.
Ignoring her, Apollo took a step toward his brother. Hairline cracks formed in the ice beneath his boots.
Tiberius lifted his hands in surrender. “I didn’t come here to fight.” He pivoted and gave Evangeline a deep bow. “My apologies, princess. I’d love to make up any offense to you with a dance.”
Apollo looked as if he wanted to object with his sword, but Evangeline spoke first. “Thank you. I’d be honored.” Then to Apollo, “Maybe for my wedding gift, the two of you can make amends?”
Apollo worked his jaw.
Evangeline held her breath. She hoped she hadn’t pushed him too far. It would be terrible timing for Jacks’s spell to break now.
After a painful beat, Apollo sheathed his sword. “Whatever you wish, my bride.”
The clockwork performers plucked an unfamiliar tune as Tiberius took her hand. He held her much closer than he should have. It might have been to spite his brother, though she also suspected Tiberius was a poor dancer. He seemed the type who wouldn’t have the patience for lessons.
This close, the brothers’ differences in appearance were even more obvious. If Apollo’s face was more roughly carved than chiseled, Tiberius’s face wasn’t sculpted at all. It was soft, decorated with a dusting of freckles that gave him an impish appearance. He couldn’t have been much older than Evangeline, if he were older at all. His hair was copper and longish, but tied back just enough to reveal a hint of a tattoo at the base of his neck, which made him look the part of rebel younger brother even more.
“You’re not what I expected.” Tiberius narrowed one eye and raised a brow.
Evangeline might have been offended by his scrutiny had she married Apollo through traditional means, but given the circumstances, the younger prince’s inquiry was understandable.
“If you’re thrown off by the wings you’re currently crushing,” she said, hoping to get him to loosen his grip, “they are sadly just part of my gown. I’m far from being an angel.”
Tiberius’s mouth twitched, but Evangeline couldn’t tell if it was the start of a smile or smirk, if he was trying to make a good impression or if he wanted her to know he didn’t trust her. And that wasn’t the only thing she was curious about.
“Why did you disappear after I became engaged to Apollo?” Tiberius’s eyes flickered with surprise. “You’re bold.” “What were you expecting?”
“Not much, if I’m being honest. Apollo used to say if—” Tiberius broke off with a wince. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be saying that at his wedding. It’s just habit for me to be mean to him. It’s how I show my love.” Another smile that was possibly a smirk as Tiberius increased the speed of his steps,
spinning her in a rapid circle across the icy floor. “Do you love my brother, Evangeline?”
Her breathing quickened. Yes was clearly the right answer, but she had a feeling Tiberius already knew that was a lie. He looked at her like a puzzle he wanted to take apart instead of put together. Clearly, Tiberius and Apollo fought, but Evangeline got the impression that Tiberius really did care for his older brother and was unsure of her because of it.
“I loved someone before,” she admitted. “When I lost him, I thought I’d never love anyone else the way that I loved him. But I have hope that I’ll love Apollo even more.” As long as they could just get through whatever happened when Jacks lifted the spell. “I’d like to be friends with you as well. I’ve never had a brother.”
She gave Tiberius a timid smile. If she and Marisol could mend things, there was hope for Apollo and Tiberius, as well. Perhaps in time they could all be a family, to make up for the people they’d lost—or in Marisol’s case, the family member she was better off without.
Tiberius’s expression was inscrutable, making it unclear if Evangeline had passed his test. But she noticed he no longer crushed her wings as took her on a final turn about the icy floor.
“Thank you for the dance, Evangeline. The next time I see you, I’ll tell you why I disappeared. I don’t want to spoil anything else for you tonight.” Tiberius released her with a formal bow as the music stopped.
Then he was striding away, twirling a feather that he’d stolen from her wings.
