Edmond did not move. From the Ice Throne he watched the hall carefully, forcing his breathing to slow.
The music resumed. Servants moved between tables with trays of roasted meat and wine. The lords laughed again, conversation returning to the warm rhythm of celebration.
To anyone watching, the Warden of the North looked calm. His back was straight. His chin lifted. His face carved into the same controlled expression that had ruled Snowland for years.
But inside him the thought refused to die.
Newton, and Sonia.
His eyes drifted once more across the hall. Newton stood where the servants gathered, quiet as ever, his hands clasped behind his back.
Sonia sat beside Ryli.
The Crown Prince leaned slightly toward her, speaking softly. The nobles nearby smiled at the sight. It looked like the beginning of a royal romance.
Edmond watched his daughter carefully. Her smile appeared when the prince spoke. But it faded the moment his face turned away.
Edmond exhaled slowly. He would deal with the matter later. For now, the hall was watching. The celebration had to continue.
The herald stepped forward again. "Presenting gifts for the Lady Sonia Woodland."
A long line of nobles began forming. One by one they approached the raised platform.
A northern lord offered a golden brooch carved in the shape of a wolf. Another presented a jeweled comb from the eastern valleys.
Lord Mayson Egromack placed a silver necklace into Sonia's hands.
Each time Sonia thanked them politely. Each time the hall applauded.
Then Ryli stood. The noise softened immediately. The Crown Prince lifted a small velvet chest. Two guards followed him carrying additional boxes.
He stopped beside Sonia and opened the first chest. Jewels flashed beneath the torchlight. Diamonds. Emeralds. Gold chains twisted into intricate patterns.
Gasps moved through the hall. Ryli smiled proudly. "This is for my beautiful queen to be." His voice carried easily across the chamber.
Sonia forced her lips into a smile. She accepted the chest. "Thank you, my prince."
Applause thundered through the hall.
Ryli bowed slightly. For a moment he looked every bit the charming heir to the Golden Throne.
The celebration stretched late into the evening. Music. Wine. Laughter.
Eventually the final bell rang. The guests were escorted to their chambers throughout the castle.
Servants extinguished some of the torches along the walls while guards escorted nobles through the corridors.
Ryli stood beside Sonia's chair. "I will take her," he said smoothly.
The servants stepped aside. He placed his hands on the handles of the wheelchair and began pushing her through the quiet hallway.
The moment they turned the corner, away from the remaining guests, the smile vanished from his face.
Completely.
His eyes hardened. "What were you trying to do out there?" His voice came out low and dangerous.
Sonia blinked. "What?"
Ryli stopped the chair abruptly. Then he stepped around in front of her. Before she could react, his hand shot forward.
His fingers wrapped around her throat. Sonia gasped. Ryli leaned closer. "Why was your face squeezed all through the ceremony? Why did you show disgust whenever I speak or touch you?"
His grip tightened. "You want to tell the world that you are not happy about the union?"
Sonia's hands grabbed at his wrist. Her nails scratched uselessly against his skin. Her breathing turned sharp and shallow.
Ryli's voice dropped even lower. "Let this be the last time you make me chase you in public." His eyes burned into hers. "Do you understand?"
Sonia tried to speak. Only a weak rasp escaped her throat. Her vision blurred. "Do I make myself understood?" Ryli roared.
Sonia's body struggled weakly in the chair. Still no words came out. Her chest burned. Dark spots began creeping into her sight. Then a voice sounded from behind them. "Let go of her."
The words were calm. Firm, and authoritative.
Ryli froze.
His fingers loosened slightly. "That must be Lord Edmond Woodland."
Ryli slowly released Sonia's throat. She collapsed back against the chair, coughing violently.
Ryli straightened his coat, then turned sharply.
Newton stood a few steps away in the corridor. His jaw clenched. His eyes were dark.
He hissed. "And who are you?" His voice rose in arrogance.
Newton's teeth ground together. "Lay that hand on my sister once again," he said quietly, "and I will cut it off."
Ryli blinked once. Recognition dawned. A smile curled across his face. "You must be Newton Ice." His tone turned mocking. "The bastard."
He tilted his head slightly. "What can a bastard do to me?"
His lips twisted. "You are just bastard blood. Son of a whore."
Newton bites his lips. "Get away from my sister."
"Come on, Newton," Sonia cried weakly from her chair. "You cannot talk to the Crown Prince in that manner."
Newton's head snapped toward Ryli again. "If his parents didn't teach him manners," Newton said sharply, "then I have to help them."
The words landed like steel.
Ryli's smile widened. For a moment he said nothing. Then suddenly he turned. His hand swung across Sonia's face. The crack echoed through the corridor.
Sonia's head snapped sideways.
Ryli smiles looking at Newton. "Now let me see what the bastard can do."
Newton's vision exploded red. He did not think. He moved. His fist slammed into Ryli's face.
The Crown Prince staggered backward and fell hard against the stone floor.
Newton lunged forward. He dropped on top of him and began striking.
One punch. Two. Three.
Ryli tried to shield his face. Newton's fists kept coming.
Sonia sat frozen in her chair in a helpless manner. Her voice rose in panic. "Stop it!"
Newton's fist struck again.
"Stop it!" Sonia cried louder.
Ryli groaned beneath him.
"Newton stop it! Somebody help," Sonia echoed.
Then footsteps thundered through the corridor. Guards rushed in. Two of them grabbed Newton's arms. Another dragged Ryli away from him.
The Crown Prince's face was already swelling. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Queen Freya arrived seconds later. Her eyes fell on her son. Her expression hardened instantly. "You have just dug your own grave, Ryli," Newton spat.
Freya turned slowly toward him. Her head shook once. "You do not have any idea what you have done."
Her voice carried cold fury. "You dare lay your illegitimate hands on the next king of the Nine Kingdoms."
Newton stood still. His chest rose and fell heavily. "If he dares lay his hands on my sister again," Newton said slowly, "I won't just beat him."
His voice dropped into something darker. "I will behead him." The corridor froze. Even Queen Freya. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You won't dare."
Newton reached to his side. The sound of steel sliding from its sheath cut through the silence.
His sword glinted beneath the torchlight. "Then ask your son to try."
Ryli trembled where the guards held him. His eyes locked onto Newton. For the first time, uncertainty flickered across his face.
He understood something now. Newton did not care about crowns, or titles. Or even royal blood.
He could do anything.
Ryli wiped blood from his mouth. His voice came out low and filled with hatred. "Bastard." His eyes burned. "This is not over." His finger pointed toward Newton. "I won't stop until I have your head on a spike."