A Midwinter's Wedding: A Retelling of The Frog Prince Read online

  A Midwinter’s Wedding

  A Four Kingdoms Novella

  Melanie Cellier

  Luminant Publications

  A MIDWINTER’S WEDDING: A FOUR KINGDOMS NOVELLA

  Copyright © 2017 by Melanie Cellier

  First edition published in 2017 (v1.2)

  by Luminant Publications

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, stored in, or introduced into a database or retrieval system, in any form, or by any means, without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN 978-0-9806963-9-4

  Luminant Publications

  PO Box 203

  Glen Osmond, South Australia 5064

  [email protected]

  http://www.melaniecellier.com

  Cover Design by Karri Klawiter

  Created with Vellum

  For Robyn

  the truest of friends

  Contents

  Family Tree

  A Gift

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Note from the Author

  Family Tree

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Family Tree

  A Gift

  “It’s a present.”

  Princess Cordelia looked down at the golden ball and then up into the stunningly beautiful face of her sister. “Umm, thanks?”

  Ever since the curse, Cordelia was used to her sister doing senseless, empty-headed things, but the unexpected gift seemed odd even for her. It wasn’t as if it was Cordelia’s birthday or anything.

  “It’s not for you, silly!” Celeste laughed, and the golden, musical sound filled the small garden. Her laugh was almost as irresistible as her face.

  If any courtiers had been there, they would have sighed and murmured to each other. Cordelia could easily imagine what they would say. Such a beautiful girl. Such a pity about the curse.

  She almost sighed herself. Not because of the wasted beauty of her older sister, though. Life as a sixth child had enough challenges of its own. No one noticed you when you were constantly surrounded by the beauty and talents of your older siblings. And Cordelia wasn’t even the baby of the family, a position that attracted at least some attention.

  She reminded herself, for the thousandth time, that she should be grateful. After all, if she’d been the most beautiful of them all, then she would have been the one with the curse.

  But despite the reminder, she couldn’t help wishing that, just once, she could stand on her own. That she could meet someone who would see her as Cordelia, rather than as yet another one of that horde up at the palace. Even poor, cursed Celeste had gone on a visit of state to their northern neighbour Arcadia a year and a half ago, when she was Cordelia’s age.

  Celeste was still smiling, apparently oblivious to Cordelia’s discontent. “It’s for Princess Marie. As a wedding present. She’s marrying our brother Rafe, remember?”

  “Of course I remember!” snapped Cordelia and then instantly regretted it. It wasn’t Celeste’s fault that she was such a fool. She softened her tone. “But I don’t know why you’re giving it to me.”

  “Oh! Haven’t you heard? The wedding is to be held on Midwinter’s Day, which means any attendees will be snowed in for the whole season. Mother and Father have decided they can’t be away for that long. But Rafe will be so sad if none of us attend.” Her smile grew even brighter. “So, they’ve decided to send you.”

  “Me?” Cordelia stared at her, hardly able to believe her good fortune. “Only me?”

  “That’s why I’m giving you the ball. For our new sister.”

  Cordelia tried to contain her glee. It seemed too good to be true. And Rafe was her favourite brother, too. She bit her lip. She would have to think of an amazing wedding gift for him. She glanced down at the golden ball that her sister had deposited in her hands.

  “Is it real gold?” she asked, curiosity momentarily distracting her. “It’s very light.”

  “Of course it’s real! Only the best for our dear Rafe.” Celeste leaned forward as if imparting a secret. “I think it might be magic. I got it from Godmother. It’s supposed to help you find true love.”

  “Well it doesn’t seem to have helped you,” pointed out Cordelia.

  She didn’t mean it harshly. It was just the truth. The three youngest Lanoverian princesses often bemoaned the lack of romance in their lives.

  Celeste leaned back and looked puzzled. “No, it hasn’t, has it? Maybe it’s not magic after all. That might have been a game I was playing… I can’t quite remember now.” Her words trailed off as she began to hum to herself happily.

  Cordelia bit back an impatient retort. Celeste couldn’t be held responsible for the foolish things she said. Still, the younger princess couldn’t resist asking the obvious question. “Well, if it is magic, why would you give it to a bride? She’s already found true love.”

  Celeste stopped humming and leaned forward again. “I’ve heard rumours of dangerous things afoot in Northhelm. I thought a godmother item might help, and it’s the only one I have.”

  Cordelia considered reminding her sister that Rafe and Marie had already defeated the danger in Northhelm but decided against it. She had far more important things to do–like pack!

  But first she would find her mother and make sure Celeste was telling the truth. She ran out of the garden with a light heart.

  Chapter 1

  Cordelia bounced once on the seat of the carriage, and then subsided after a stern look from her personal maid. She would have made a face except she could hear Celeste’s warnings in her mind. Celeste had told her many times that a princess should never make faces since it diminished her beauty. And beauty was the one topic where Celeste’s judgment couldn’t be questioned.

  Cordelia settled for a small sigh instead.

  She had been so excited when her mother had confirmed that she would be travelling to Northhelm to attend Rafe’s wedding. The emotion had been somewhat dampened, however, when her mother insisted that Priscilla accompany her. As a personal maid, Priscilla left a lot to be desired. As a combination of nanny, governess and parental substitute, Queen Viktoria thought she was perfect. And nothing Cordelia could say had convinced her mother that she was too old to need a baby-sitter.

  She supposed she should be grateful she had been allowed to come at all. Her parents hadn’t wanted any of the family to travel so far and be gone for so long. Instead they had dispatched the Duchess of Sessily, along with a large retinue, to support Rafe in the various negotiations and treaties that would surround the wedding. The older woman was a diplomatic genius, and the kingdom had proven safe in her hands many times before.

  When their children had questioned the decision, the king and queen had assured them that they would fund a royal tour for the newlyweds to visit Lanover after
the wedding. They would all get the chance to meet their new sister.

  Except when Rafe heard that the duchess was already on her way without any of his family, he had sent a letter pleading on behalf of his three younger sisters. King Leonardo and Queen Viktoria had decided that, while Celeste had already had her turn in Arcadia and Celine was far too young, Cordelia should be allowed to attend after all.

  Celine had complained–that went without saying–but their mother had done nothing but repeat the same placid, unmoving reply. “You’re too young.” Of course none of the princesses were fooled by this. Celine wasn’t too young. She was too wild and too tempestuous.

  At least those were the words Priscilla used. Their two oldest brothers used even less complimentary words. And their mother simply sighed and reminded them all that she was still young yet.

  Cordelia threw off thoughts of her sisters. The carriage had entered Northgate, the capital of Northhelm, several minutes before, and she wanted to stick her head out the window, so she could get a good look at the city. She snuck a glance at Priscilla and then decided against it. The older woman watched her with a hawk-like stare.

  She sighed again and contented herself with absorbing as much of the view as she could see from inside the vehicle. Priscilla had been nanny to the older Lanoverian princes and princesses but had handed over the role before Cordelia arrived. Cordelia wished the dour woman had retired instead of staying on in the palace. Even Celeste, who didn’t normally worry about much apart from her looks, found Priscilla overly strict.

  The city seemed smaller than the Lanoverian capital, and the differences didn’t stop there. The warmer southern climate meant Cordelia had grown up in a sprawling, dusty city, composed mostly of single-story buildings made of reddish sandstone. Even her own home, the palace, consisted of only one story.

  In contrast, Northgate had quaint cobbled streets lined by tall houses, each connected to the neighbouring home to form long unbroken rows of buildings. Their window boxes were empty of flowers due to the season, but the streets were brightened by lanterns on black metal poles.

  The sun hadn’t set, but the lanterns already glowed, combating the overcast sky. The whole effect was already quaint and picturesque even without the added advantage of softly falling snow.

  “Look, Priscilla!” Cordelia couldn’t contain her glee. “It’s snowing!”

  “I have observed, Your Highness.”

  Cordelia tightened her lips and kept her eyes glued to the window. She refused to let the other woman ruin her enjoyment of the moment. The travellers had pushed themselves for weeks to make it to Northhelm before the winter weather made travel impossible. Cordelia was just glad they were there.

  “Ohh…” The soft sound of enchantment slipped unconsciously from her mouth. The palace had come into view, and the tall building of white stone looked even more beautiful than she had imagined.

  According to Celeste, the elegant Arcadian palace was even more impressive than this one. But Cordelia was in the mood to be impressed, and she found the Northhelmian palace more than lived up to her expectations.

  She was still admiring it when her carriage passed through the gates and pulled to a stop in the front courtyard.

  “Stay here,” said Priscilla before climbing out and beginning to order about their various guards and grooms, as well as the Northhelmian servants who had come rushing out to help. With four carriages, a great many riders and even more luggage, the travelling party took some time to disperse.

  Cordelia restrained her impatience, occupying herself with her usual game. Staring at the seat in front of her, she formed a mental picture of what was happening outside. She could hear three Northhelmian grooms directing the Lanoverians where to send their horses. Several more servants unloaded the luggage under the direction of both Priscilla and a Northelmian woman, presumably the housekeeper.

  She was entertaining herself by imagining the faces that belonged to the voices when another voice caught her ear. The tone marked it as belonging to a noble, and it sounded distant from the melee around the carriage.

  Cordelia doubted any of the other Lanoverians could hear it; even she had nearly missed it, and she not only had excellent hearing but was paying close attention. She let the other noises fade away and focussed in the direction of the voice.

  “So, the first of them arrives.” That was a second voice, markedly less noble.

  “No, no, that’s a Lanoverian royal carriage. And, anyway, the southerners only sent one of the younger princesses.” The noble voice sounded impatient.

  “Oh.” A pause. “Aren’t we interested in Lanover then?”

  “So far, Lanover appears to have escaped the general madness. Only their third prince has been infected, and he’s defected to Northhelm from what we hear.”

  Cordelia frowned and bit her lip. The voices were speaking about her and Rafe, but the words didn’t quite make sense. They did, however, make her feel uneasy. Madness? Defection? What did they mean? She decided to peek out the window and see if she could spy the owners of the voices.

  As she began to move towards the far window, the door on the palace side opened.

  “Your highness.”

  Cordelia froze, half off the seat. She reminded herself that looking out the window wasn’t a crime–even in Priscilla’s strict rulebook. She had no reason to feel guilty.

  Priscilla looked around the interior of the vehicle, as if searching for the source of Cordelia’s guilt, and then settled for shaking her head. Stepping back, she gestured for the princess to alight.

  Cordelia glanced once more towards the window and then hopped out of the carriage. From an unobstructed view, the palace looked even more impressive. All of its windows were ablaze, and the light shone on the softly falling snow. She forgot momentarily about the strange overheard conversation at the beautiful sight.

  Her carriage was already being whisked away by several grooms, and the mountains of luggage they had brought with them had disappeared into the palace. Cordelia looked around, hoping that Rafe might have come to greet her.

  As she surveyed the large courtyard, she admitted to herself that she would be happy enough to see anyone. Well, anyone more sympathetic than Priscilla, anyway.

  Even as she thought it, a lone rider trotted through the palace gates. He wore a military uniform and rode a beautiful chestnut horse. Cordelia’s love for horses gave her a soft spot for anyone who could ride well. And this man had one of the best seats she’d seen in a long time.

  He pulled up, facing away from her, and began a conversation with a groom. Cordelia ignored Priscilla, who was motioning for her to proceed inside, and lingered in the courtyard, hoping the rider might dismount and move towards the palace doors.

  Sure enough, the newcomer swung down from the saddle and handed his reins to the groom. A little thrill rushed through her body. In truth, she wanted an audience as much as she wanted sympathy.

  After all, she was one of the Lanoverian princesses, famed throughout the Four Kingdoms for their great beauty. Every day her mirror told her how lovely she was to look at. Unfortunately, her eyes also told her that she was the least remarkable of her six siblings. What was the point being beautiful if you spent your life standing next to Celeste?

  But now her chance had come. Only one of her siblings was in Northhelm with her, and he didn’t count. She resisted the urge to pat her hair and straighten her dress, and instead put on a bright smile.

  The rider turned and took two steps towards the palace before he looked up and noticed Priscilla and Cordelia. His gaze glanced over the older lady and then settled on the princess.

  Cordelia smiled encouragingly.

  His look of shocked surprise was familiar–she had seen it often enough on the faces of young men the first time they saw Celeste. How entirely different it felt, though, to have it directed at her.

  Except his expression didn’t progress to one of admiration. Instead it transformed into a look much more closely r
esembling distaste. After a frozen moment, he wheeled around and hurried past the side of the palace and out of sight.

  Cordelia’s smile dropped. She ducked her head and rushed up the palace steps, propelled forward by the heat in her cheeks. Her gut churned with embarrassment, and the warmth from her face seemed to wash over her whole body. Her one relief was that no one but Priscilla had been present to witness her foolishness.

  What had she been thinking? A few weeks of travel hadn’t made her experienced and sophisticated. She was as unimportant in Northhelm as she had always been in Lanover.

  Chapter 2

  Two steps into the palace, Cordelia collided with someone. Gasping, she tried to step backwards but was instead gripped firmly in place.

  “Woah there, Dellie,” said a familiar voice, and she nearly melted from relief. Rafe.

  She looked up, and his laughter changed to concern when he saw her expression.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  She nodded and then squeaked and buried her face in his chest.

  She could picture the bemused shake of his head as he wrapped her in his arms and murmured unintelligible soothing noises. He didn’t ask any more questions and Cordelia’s sick feeling drained away in his solidly familiar presence. Rafe was a favourite with all three of his younger sisters for a reason.