I hope we both die

Acceptance (Part Two)

Arctic

It's a pathetic wedding. Prudence offered to help out, and Foeslayer was too proud to accept her gift, as though not letting her throw us our wedding would make her strings any less visible.

If she wanted, she could throw us both out of this kingdom any time she likes.

I'm not much of a wedding planner, evidently. Somehow, one of Foeslayer's connections at court let us use the palace gardens. He irks me, but I tolerate it, and give Foeslayer a list of decorations. We set up a few tents to hide from the miserable, dripping rain. As the months drag on, I keep hoping it'll snow–or at least, that the rain will cease. It's almost spring, and the rain has only gotten colder, like half-melted ice dripping down my back.

In the Ice Kingdom, my wedding to Snowflake would have been a tribe-wide holiday.

Not that I want to marry Snowflake. But at least it would have had some dignity to it. The whole court would have come to the celebration. We'd have made our vows–not these flowery, dramatic things Foeslayer wants us to write for each other, but ones we intended to keep. We'd work out the practicalities in private, with each of our parents present to negotiate. Things like: I vow to serve our kingdom together through our union, and raise the next generation of IceWing royalty talon in talon. That was what Mother had planned for us to say.

I turn over the scrap of paper on which my vows are written, and glance at the sad archway, beneath which we'll say our vows by one of the stained-glass windows. Then glance at Mother's latest letter. The words have etched themselves into the back of my brain, and I can't stop hearing what she'd say right now.

I love you, Arctic. I just wanted to keep you safe, and this is how you repaid me?

I gave you everything, and you just threw it away.

The wind slams into my back. In the distance, Foeslayer struggles with the paper snowflakes. None of her friends wanted to help us set up, not even Braveheart.

Good. They don't understand our love anyway.

***

Ever since that weird fight about dragonets, Foeslayer has acted strange. Every time we talk, I feel like she's reading from a script, just trying to offend me as little as possible.

Good. If she wants to be like that, then she can go to town with it! Have the time of her life!

I don't care if she's keeping secrets. I don't need to. I'm a strong IceWing, and strong IceWings are fine on their own anyway.

Foeslayer tilts her head, staring at the arrangements of greenery we picked. You can't buy any flowers from the Night Kingdom right now; so we had to make do.

"Here," I say, straightening out the branches of cedar and pine. "You're doing it all wrong." I've never arranged anything like this, but I once took a class on how to arrange your space in such a manner befitting an IceWing aristocrat, or whatever nonsense. I was never very good at it.

"I wish we could have had roses," Foeslayer says with a sigh. She's soaking wet, and she looks tired. She has no right to complain. She's the one who can still sleep at night--day--whatever.

I grit my teeth, trying to stay awake. I haven't gotten a full night's sleep in a few days, and it's starting to get to me. "Well, I'm sorry we're not rich enough to pay for them to be imported from moons know where!" She just wants me to cast another spell, I can feel it. When I said my soul was hers, I didn't expect her to try and ruin it.