Fire & Ice

A Short Story Inspired by the Snow Queen (c) Bee Murray

If you’re looking for a sweet story about a kind, beautiful, young princess who always does the right thing, falls madly in love with a handsome prince, and always has perfect hair... This isn’t your story and I am not your Princess.

I am Lumi, Princess Royale of the Ice Kingdoms.

I am neither kind, nor particularly beautiful.

I definitely do not have perfect hair, and have zero interest in falling madly in love with a prince, handsome or not.

If you want perfection, sweetness, and sickly sweet love, look to my sister: Lark of the East.

That’s her story. She’s the perfect one. A bubbling songbird who got her handsome prince and is quite busy living her happily ever after.

She has freedom that I do not.

I am Princess Royale of the Ice Kingdoms.

I alone have ruled our lands in the name of my senile old bat of a father for the last 12 years.

Yet somehow, the successes and peace I have brought to our isolated Kingdom is not enough to rule it as Queen. According to tradition, a Princess Royale can only rule if she is married by the time the clock strikes midnight on her 35th birthday. If I remain unmarried, they will strip my crown from my head and give it to my next male cousin.

Cousin Therbet is a nightmare and I would burn the Ice Kingdoms to the ground before handing it over into his grubby little hands.

So here we are.

I have six days left until my birthday. Six days until my wedding. Six days until I am crowned rightful Queen of the Ice Kingdoms.

I have no idea who my groom will be and I sincerely doubt I will fall in love.

My sister is better at this sort of thing.

That’s why she’s in charge of this mess.

She’s invited the suitors, arranged for the festivities to be televised throughout the Kingdom, and she’s even picked out my outfits for each task for this competition to win my heart and my hand.

There’s nothing left for me to do except wave, smile, and marry a stranger to save my Kingdom.

I’ll do my duty. I’ll wave and smile and go through the motions to appease our traditions. But make no mistake, this is MY Kingdom and a handsome face will not displace me.

I am Lumi of the North, Princess Royale of the Ice Kingdoms. They say my heart is hard as stone.

They’re wrong.

It’s frozen.

***

Champion of Hearts Tournament Day 1

“Will you please stop fidgeting and just let them dress you? Honestly, I’ve seen children easier to manage than you. It’s a dress, Mia, it’s not poison.” Lark dropped her clipboard on the table with a clatter and reached up to smooth the wrinkles on my dress, her violet eyes sparkled with a mixture of exasperation and excitement.

The makeup artists carefully painted a few more swirls of blue and white onto my face to finish the look. The feel of the drying paint on my skin made it itch, and I squirmed under their careful applications as they clucked in disapproval.

The roar of the crowd outside the palace walls was already deafening, and the unfamiliar tangle of nerves in my stomach made me feel faint.

Lark clapped her hands and ushered in yet another attendant to add things to the extensive headdress she had insisted I wear.“You look positively ethereal! They won’t be able to take their eyes off you!”

“Can we just get on with it, Lark? It’s not like any of this matters,” I snapped. I brushed the hair and makeup people away and stalked to the mirror to stare in shock at the reflection in the silvered surface.

I hated to admit it, but she was right. I looked ethereal. The white and blue swirls of paint that had been applied around my eyes were striking and stark on my pale skin. The hairdressers had woven soft glittery snowflakes in and around my thick, brown braids with little strips of gold fabric. I wore an antler headdress, a crown from the ancient days of the Kingdoms, brought up from the vault for special occasions. They had polished the bone to a deep shine, and the runes of protection carved into them had been embellished with gold leaf.

Someone had draped flower chains on the spreading antlers and a simple sapphire on a chain set with diamonds rested against the center of my forehead.

I blinked at my reflection. I felt… pretty.

Lark came up behind me and put her arms around my shoulders to give me a squeeze.

“Time to go, sis. Time to go meet your future husband!”

I blinked and turned back to allow the dressers to fasten a heavy woolen cloak across my shoulders. Arm and arm with my sister, I made my way slowly down the familiar hallways to the balcony that overlooked the city where my people awaited my arrival.

I paused in front of the balcony doors, trying desperately to regain control of my thundering heart.

“You can do this,” Lark whispered.

I could do this. I could. I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and pasted a smile onto my face before I stepped out onto the balcony. The deafening cheers of my people overwhelmed me and I stood still for far too long, trying to find balance before raising my hands to quiet the cheering crowd in the courtyard and streets below.

“In the noble traditions of the Ice Kingdoms. I, Lumi, Princess Royale, do so declare these Birthday Games to be open! Please join us in the arena this afternoon to meet your competitors.”

My voice carried out over the crowd, and the noise level rose to chaotic excitement. I lost count of how long it took for them to quiet.

I looked out at the people who had gathered to celebrate my impending nuptials and felt nothing but numbness. For twelve years, I had been a perfect ruler. The people loved me. Why now did it matter that I wasn’t married? Why was I suddenly lacking because of a date on a calendar?

My face hurt from smiling, but the duties of the Princess Royale have been ingrained in me since birth. You smile. You wave. You never let them see how much you resent being trotted out like a prize pony for their amusement.

I blew a kiss to the crowd and gave them one last wave before I turned and walked serenely through the balcony doors. All I wanted was to run far away, but the dress was too stiff, and the headdress was too heavy to be anything but measured and graceful. Damnit.

Lark was beside herself with joy and she clapped her hands ecstatically as I walked through the balcony doors and the curtains swept closed behind me. “Outstanding job! Now, we just need to change our cloaks and you can meet your men!”

I could only nod briefly, the headdress was making my neck ache. I followed alongside my sister, murmuring responses to her chatter as she bubbled over about the suitors she had arranged. The numbness I had felt on the balcony spread through my body as I allowed myself to be hurried from one location to another. The palace was bustling with activity and the click and flash of royal photographers with their cameras blinded me as we rounded corners.

I tried to remember the schedule that Lark had been drilling into my head for the last month.

Photo op on the balcony. Parade to the arena. Presentation of the candidates. Start the tournament.

As my retinue and I bundled into the ceremonial sleigh that would take us to the arena, I couldn’t help but think about the men who would volunteer for this… circus. Lark had prepared folders full of information on these men, but I had refused to read them.

Somehow the choice of not knowing was a small piece of rebellion.

If I must be forced to endure this asinine tradition, I took comfort in knowing that my sister would not be able to influence my choices. This tournament was merely a means to an end. It was the last step I had to take to keep my crown. It was a business transaction. May the best man win.

With my chin high and my eyes fixed on the arena that loomed ahead of us I felt that unfamiliar nervous feeling return.

Here we go.

Pale white roses rained down on us from the rooftops as we made our way out of the sleigh. I waved to the people that lined the streets and followed my sister up the stone steps to the Royal Box. Once settled into my comfortable throne, I finally let myself study the four distinct tents that had been pitched in a row on the arena field.

The first tent was substantially larger than the others. It was nothing short of ostentatious, made of glittering golden fabric that had been stitched with ruby red designs that sparkled in the sun like real gemstones.

The second tent was smaller and almost shabby in comparison with the first. Round and squat, it seemed to be made entirely out of hides and fur. It reminded me of a wolf den and I could not help my expression as I wondered just what kind of prince it could belong to.

The next tent was long and narrow, shaped like a Viking longhouse complete with a set of horns mounted over the door. I smiled, Lark would find a Viking for these games.

The fourth tent was simple and constructed of plain black canvas. The only decoration was a circular crest, a massive eagle flying over a mountain top, etched in silver on the door. The austere plainness of it set it apart from the others, giving it an air of mystery.

None of the men belonging to the tents were visible, and I remembered they had to be presented to me. It was impossible to guess who any of them might be, with the Viking being the only obvious exception. Lark had certainly found a variety of competitors, and I found my nervousness giving way to a kind of reluctant excitement.

The harsh blaring sounds of trumpets echoed through the air and I sat up straight on my throne and forced my attention on the field. The captain of my palace guard escorted four figures, each one draped in a dark cloak, to a raised platform to be announced.

Captain Raynor stood tall and proud beside the competitors. “Your Royal Highness, Princess Lumi, it is my honor to present to you the Champions for your Heart!”

It took everything in me to keep a straight face as I clapped politely and waved for the cameras. This was supposed to be an honor. But I felt like throwing up.

“Traveling from the West, I present to you Eamon of Trading House Peregrine, here to win your heart!”

One competitor stepped forward and pushed the hood of his cloak back to reveal a tall, handsome man with golden hair. He waved to the crowd and blew kisses to the screaming women who threw flowers and ribbons onto the field.

His golden tunic matched the ostentatious tent. He wore the self-satisfied smirk of a man who has always been able to buy what he wanted. I narrowed my eyes at him.

My Kingdom is not for sale, Eamon Peregrine. You cannot trade for it.

I stood and nodded my head in acknowledgement. “You are welcome, Eamon of Trading House Peregrine.”

Eamon bowed deeply to me and then stepped back, his face still alight with triumph at being the first announced.

Captain Raynor cleared his throat and addressed the crowd again.

“Traveling from the South, I present to you Theron, mightiest hunter of the Southern Woods, here to win your heart!”

A second competitor threw off his cloak to reveal a small, wiry frame, and a face with a dark scruffy beard and a woolen cap pulled down over dark hair. He bowed stiffly in my direction. He looked uncomfortable with this many people screaming around him, and I wondered briefly if he felt claustrophobic. I could relate to that.

“You are welcome, Theron of the Southern Woods.” I nodded to him, but his eyes were fixed firmly on the ground at his feet.

Captain Raynor cleared his throat again, and Theron stepped back.

“Traveling from the East, I present to you Skarde, the fiercest warrior of the Eastern Viking Settlements, here to win your heart.”

Before Raynor could finish speaking, a barrel-chested man ripped off his cloak and raised his fist into the air. He let out a primal roar of victory and the crowd went wild.

“You are welcome, Skarde of the Vikings!”

He made eye contact with me, and I feel a sharp jolt of awareness. Something about Skarde intrigued me. He had an energy that wasn’t subservient or even deferential to my royal status. It was something else entirely, something… exciting.

The Captain glared at Skarde until he noticed and took his place beside Theron once more.

“Finally, traveling from the North, I present to you Finlo of the Northern Mountains, here to win your heart.”

I swallowed hard as the final man pushed aside his cloak. He scanned the crowd slowly before lifting his eyes to mine. Even from a distance, I could feel the intensity of his gaze. It felt like he stared into my soul. He was tall, but not as tall as Eamon and his jet black hair was pulled back into an intricate knot on top of his head.

“You are welcome, Finlo of the Northern Mountains.”

I stumble over my words just a little when he winks at me. Trouble. Finlo of the Northern Mountains is trouble.

The crowd went wild as the four champions all bowed to me and went to stand before their tents. I gulped in anticipation. This is actually happening.

I sat down on my throne and turned to glare at my sister.

“What have you done?” I mouthed to her over the din of the cheers, but she merely smiled at me and pointed to the clipboard in front of me.

The all-encompassing schedule rules us all and judging from her grin, it was my turn to speak.

With a snarl of distaste, I stood up again and held my hands out to the crowd to quiet them. This was the part that I had been most anxious about.

Breathe.

“People of the Ice Kingdoms and those who have traveled from afar, it is my pleasure to welcome you to the opening of the Champions of the Heart Tournament. As you know, it is the tradition of the Ice Kingdoms to hold such tournaments in order to choose a suitor for an unmarried member of the ruling Royal Family. This year, the winner of the Tournament will become eligible to take my hand in marriage.”

I took a deep breath and looked at each champion before speaking again. The idea of being forced to marry any of them made me furious.

“The Champions that stand before you were chosen carefully as the best representatives from each of the four points of the compass. They will complete three challenges designed with our Kingdom in mind. We will eliminate one Champion at each stage until there is only one remaining,”

I paused again, trying to make some kind of decision as to whom I favored… But I could not choose. The tasks would make the choice for me.

“The first task will test our Champions survival skills. At midnight tonight they will be taken to the Great Glacier with minimal supplies and left to survive for a full day and night—just as our ancestors did during the founding of our Kingdom. May the Goddess of the Mountain favor you, Champions. The three that move forward will be rewarded handsomely and honored with a feast.”

All four of them bowed to me again, and I sat back down, double-checking the clipboard to make sure nothing else was asked of me for a while. My head ached, and the corset of my dress was too tight. This was torture in more ways than one.

Lark clapped her hands and reached out to grasp mine.

“Well! What do you think?! Aren’t they all divine? Personally, I think the Viking is particularly intriguing. He has a certain feral attitude that suits you. Or maybe the Northern Mountain Man? He hasn’t taken his eyes off you yet. I hear he keeps a dragon as a pet!”

I could hear the excitement in her voice, but none of what had happened that day felt right, or good, or exciting, and I didn’t have an answer for her.

“Would you care to wager on who is eliminated tomorrow?” She continued, openly pointing at the Champions below us, “I bet Golden Boy can’t handle the cold without his tent.”

Privately I agreed, but I shrugged instead. “It doesn’t matter. This is business. It’s not like I have a choice in any of this, anyway.”

I ignored the look of hurt that crossed Lark’s face. It wasn’t her fault I was in this situation and she had done the best she could to make it as painless as possible for me. The simple fact remained that I had never needed a knight in shining armor to charge to my rescue. That I would be forced to be ‘rescued’ from my life because of an ancient law just made me angry.

I drifted through the crowd of courtiers and advisors with Lark at my side as we left the Royal Box and climbed back into the sleigh. Through it all, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was being watched. I turned back to look towards the tents and saw Finlo of the Northern Mountains standing in front of his tent. His dark eyes tracked me through the crowd and when he caught me looking at him, he lifted a hand in a mock salute and waved before disappearing into his tent to prepare.

Yeah. That one is trouble.

***

Champion of Hearts Tournament Day 2

I woke early to an ominous grey sky and the wind howling against the stained glass windows above my bed. Small particles of ice and snow beat against the windows and swirled in vicious flurries. I smiled at the swirling frost patterns on my window and wrapped myself in a blanket before stepping out onto my private balcony to relish the biting cold as the wind swirled through the surrounding snow.

If you asked the average person what their favorite weather was, most will say sunshiny summer days or brisk autumn afternoons.

But not me.

Give me a blizzard any day of the week. A freezing tempest or even a whiteout. Give me ice storms, sleet, and even hail. That’s my idea of a beautiful day.

I looked up at where the mountain should be, completely obscured by the storm. The Great Glacier lay at the very top, and so did my Champions.

“You want to marry me to get access to my Kingdom? Better get used to the cold! This is nothing compared to what awaits you!” I shouted into the wind without a care for who might hear me.

“Are you done?” Lark’s voice startled me out of my rage, and I whirled around to face her.

“Lumi, they could die. This is the worst blizzard we’ve had in two seasons. We sent them up there with a knife, a jacket, and some rope. Maybe you could wait to gloat about their frozen toes when we find out that they’re still alive?” The reproach in her tone gave me pause, but I refused to answer her on principle.

Lark sighed heavily and grabbed my arm. “Come on, you have a wedding dress fitting at ten and then you need to approve the cloaks that the winners will receive tonight.”

I allowed myself to be led back inside and the team of beautification experts descended on me again. My mind was still on the men up the mountain and I wondered who the survivors might be. The black eyes of Finlo and the primal yell of Skarde came to mind, and a teeny, tiny part of me hoped they were among the ones who made it.

Lark and her team kept me so busy all day that I barely had a moment of peace. From wedding dresses that were constructed with enough tulle to carpet a kingdom, to flower arrangements for my currently-groomless wedding, and cake tastings that made me wonder if I had actually ever enjoyed cake, I existed in a surreal state of quiet denial to my life.

Before I could ask how much of the day had passed, I had been dressed, painted, and dragged to the Great Hall to await word of the Champions.

A buzz of conversation surrounded us, with wagers being placed for the survivors and excited whispers among my courtiers.

When the great doors thundered open, the entire room fell silent.

Captain Raynor strode through the doors and swept a deep bow.

“Your Royal Highness, I present to you your surviving Champions!” The captain of my guard stepped back and three figures wrapped in cloaks stepped forward.

Much to my surprise, the first figure to step forward was the trading baron, Eamon. He was pale, and his hands shook, but he stood tall and waved to the crowd before he looked to me and performed a courtly bow.

Skarde came forward next, his Viking yell of victory sounded hoarse, but it was still energetic enough to echo around the chamber. Full icicles hung from his beard but he looked triumphant and healthy.

All eyes in the room went to the third figure, and he slowly stepped forward, casually unhooking the cloak from his shoulders and draping it over Skarde’s shoulders.

Finlo didn’t wave to the crowds or yell in victory, he simply walked with supreme confidence through the room until he was standing just before my throne. He bent his knee and knelt upon the marble floor.

“It is an honor, Your Highness, to visit the Great Glacier. I thank you for setting us to such a challenge.”

I stared down at him, noting that of the three, he was the only one who looked remarkably comfortable, with no signs of discomfort or ill effects from the cold. This close, I could see his hair wasn’t black as I had originally thought. It had streaks of auburn in it, reminding me of the glowing coals of a banked fire.

“Rise, Finlo of the Northern Mountains. You have done well with this challenge,” I said finally, “You have all done well and defeated the Great Glacier during the worst storm we have seen in two seasons,” I turned to look at the other two champions.

Motioning to my attendants, I had the navy blue, fur trimmed cloaks brought out and presented to each of the Champions.

“And Theron? What of him?” All three champions looked at each other uneasily, before Skarde stepped forward.

“Your Highness, the mighty hunter Theron died in a glorious battle with a caribou. It was his last wish to be left on the Great Glacier to be returned to nature.”

The mood in the room sobered immediately. I stood slowly, raising my glass.

“To the Champion from the Southern Woods: Theron, the mighty hunter. May the Goddess of the Mountains guide your spirit through the mist to the great beyond.”

The rest of the room raised their glasses with me, a solemn tribute to a fallen warrior.

“To the surviving Champions, you have proven your ability to protect yourself and survive in inhospitable conditions. Your next task will test your ability to protect this Kingdom against harm. You will receive your instructions tomorrow. Tonight, we feast!”

Eamon, Finlo, and Skarde all made their way up to the table of honor next to mine. Each stopped to speak to me for a moment, but I couldn’t concentrate. The knowledge that a man had died in a competition to win my hand in marriage weighed heavily on me.

I leaned over to my sister as Skarde walked away to take his seat.

“In honor of Theron’s sacrifice for the Kingdoms, we will sponsor his village to ensure that losing such a prolific hunter does not negatively impact the food supply of his village.”

Lark gave me a look of surprise before she smiled and signaled for her ever-present assistant to make a note.

The three remaining champions laughed and joked as they feasted on the meat and cheese platters we had provided and indulged in the ale. Everyone in the room seemed to carry on with ease, as if nothing happened.

“Dance with them,” Lark whispered to me and I scowled at her.

“What? Why? What does dancing have to do with anything?”

Lark just rolled her eyes at me and handed me the clipboard. Sure enough, it said “Ceremonial Ice Dance with Champions,” highlighted in pink.

I handed her the clipboard back and made a mental note to declare a new holiday this spring where bonfires would be made of all the clipboards in the land.

The noise in the Great Hall dimmed as I stood up from the table and made my way to the dance floor and took my position. The musicians played the intro to the traditional Ice Dance, and I tapped my toes in the intricate pattern I have danced since I was a girl.

Slide, tap tap, slide, tap.

The dance is reminiscent of the steps our ancestors took when we were testing the ice on the Great Glacier as we traveled across it to find the valley where we settled.

With a snap of my fingers, I balanced on my toes and executed the slow spin that ends the solo portion of the dance. With practiced ease, I stopped my spin, so that I was facing the Champions table.

“Eamon of the Trading House Peregrine, would you do me the honor of dancing the Ceremonial Ice Dance with me?” I called out as I extended my hand toward him.

Eamon jumped up and straightened his cloak before striding over to me and pressing his lips to my palm.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, I do so love the diversion of dance,” he said loudly. He matched my steps but added extra flamboyant hand gestures to the ancient dance.

“It’s ‘Your Highness,’ actually,” I corrected him absently, “I am a Highness until my coronation as Queen.”

Eamon stumbled a bit on the steps at my correction and didn’t say another word, content to dance in silence. As the music waned, he gallantly swept me into the twirl.

“You are Queen of my heart, my lady,” he crooned. He pressed his lips to my hands again as the music softened, signalling time to change partners.

I forced a smile and nodded as regally as I could manage, barely resisting the urge to wipe my hand on my skirts.

“Skarde of the Viking Settlements, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” I called out, extending my hand next to the barrel-chested Viking.

In what was becoming a regular reaction, he roared his approval and jumped up from the table, spilling his ale on the floor. He ignored the mess and stalked toward me as if he were the predator and I his prey.

“I do not know this dance, my lady, but I beg you to allow me to dance in the way of my ancestors for you.”

I withdrew my hand with a smile and gestured for him to take command of the dance floor. He drew his sword from his scabbard and brandished it, causing my guards to rush forward.

He placed the sword reverently on the floor and gave me a deep bow. He pulled a small dirk out of his belt and began a complicated series of lunges and footwork as he danced around the sword on the ground.

Each jab was accompanied with a loud yell. The musicians picked up the rhythm and soon the drums accompanied his twirling, lunging, yelling dance. It was mesmerizing to watch, and I found myself unable to draw my eyes away from him. After several long moments, he dropped to his knees, bowed his head and presented the dirk to me, balanced upon his open palms.

I hesitated for only a moment, and then stepped forward and took the knife from his upturned hands. The entire room erupted in applause.

Breathing heavily, Skarde stumbled to his feet, replaced the sword in its scabbard and gave me a short bow.

“I thank you, Skarde, for such a display. It was most mesmerizing.”

I held the dirk out to him, unsure of if he wanted it back, but he shook his head.

“A gift for your Highness,” he said. I felt my cheeks warming slightly and tucked the small knife into the belt of my dress as he walked back to the table.

I locked eyes with the remaining champion and swallowed hard before extending my hand.

“Finlo of the Northern Mountains, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” I was relieved that my voice didn’t belay the nervousness I felt.

Finlo rose from his chair slowly, his movements graceful and fluid, his gaze never leaving my face. He stopped by the musicians and whispered something to the conductor who nodded enthusiastically.

He took my hand, and I gasped softly at the heat in his hand. “You are very warm, sir. Are you ill?” I asked, unable to prevent the question from tumbling out.

Finlo chuckled quietly. “My blood runs hot, Highness, but I thank you for your concern.”

Something about him confused me. His intensity was so different from the other competitors. He dropped my hand and stepped away from me as the musicians played, and it startled me when the playful and sensual strains of an Argentine tango started.

Finlo looked at me, one eyebrow raised in challenge. I raised my eyebrow at him and stared at him for a long moment before calling out to Lark.

“Countess Lark, I have need of you,” I called out without breaking eye contact with Finlo. I reached up and removed the antler headdress from my head and handed it off to my sister who could barely contain her glee.

Snapping my fingers at the musicians, they nodded and restarted the song. I turned away from Finlo and set my feet, dragging and sliding my steps to the music as he prowled behind me, reaching for me and sweeping me into his arms. His entire body radiated heat as we slowly stepped together while the music rose in crescendo.

He increased the tempo, the challenge in his eyes clear. I just smiled sweetly and matched him step for step, dipping and twirling flawlessly with the music.

Of all the lessons I had spent my entire life being forced to endure, dance had always been my favorite and I let myself enjoy the novelty of dancing with a well-matched partner, if only for one dance. All too soon, the final few notes of the song played, and we stepped away from each other. I felt cold as soon as his arms left mine.

The room erupted in applause and I felt my cheeks flush with heat.

“Thank you for the dance, Your Highness,” he said as he bowed. He returned to the Champion’s table and took his seat with the others, and I had to drag my eyes away from him as Lark rushed up to my side.

“Um, what was that?!” she whispered, as she set my headdress back on my head, “Is the dragon-keeper melting that icy heart of yours?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped. “It’s just a dance, Lark. It meant nothing more than that.” But as I moved back to my chair, I swear I could feel the heat of his hands on me still, and the beat of the tango pulsating in my core.

***

Champions of the Heart Tournament Day 3

Fresh snow glittered in the sunshine as we stepped out into the arena, the brisk morning air and the cloudless sky did wonders as it cleared the unwanted thoughts from the night before out of my head.

Eamon, Skarde, and Finlo stood before me on the platform at the entrance to the arena. I could hear a thunderous roar from inside an enormous cage inside the arena. The crowds were even larger than before, hawkers selling flags that had been hastily emblazoned with the Champion’s crests, and fresh flowers to throw to their favorites lined the streets shouting about their wares, and their wagers for the winner.

Today my smile was genuine. This challenge was exciting, and dangerous, and decidedly unpredictable. I stood tall in the Royal Box and held up my hands for silence.

“For today’s task, you will each test your ability to protect this kingdom as warriors by doing battle with one of our mountain trolls. We have given you each a single weapon of your choice. This will be a timed trial, and we have drawn names out of a hat for battle order: First will be Skarde, then Eamon. Finlo will be last.”

Skarde nodded and let out his signature yell. He brandished his broadsword, leapt from the platform and charged into the ring.

As soon as he stepped into the playing field, a hush fell over the crowd. At my signal, the guards let the troll out of its cage.

Our mountain trolls are not as large as those in other kingdoms. They aren’t as aggressive as the famed bridge trolls, but they are tough, and can be mean when provoked. The key to defeating a mountain troll is exhaustion more than strength. They are not fast creatures, and they tire easily.

Skarde stormed out of the gate and ran directly at the troll. He swung his sword at the monster’s knees, but did not see the enormous fist that came at him and knocked him to the other side of the arena. Back and forth, Skarde and the troll battled. When the trumpets blared to signal the end of the battle round, the troll had a few knicks from the sword, but Skarde was bleeding profusely from the head and he seemed grateful to see the soldiers who ran into the ring to drag him to safety.

Eamon stepped forward. He had chosen a shock stick, and the weapon crackled with electricity as he held it by his side. He circled the troll carefully and then darted quickly between its legs to press the prongs of the shock stick to the sensitive skin behind the troll’s knees.

The troll let out a mighty roar and swiped at Eamon, who narrowly missed being launched into the crowd. By the end of the allotted time, Eamon had successfully shocked the troll five times and sustained only minor injuries. He wore a wide grin upon his face, pumped his fist to the crowd, and blew me a kiss which I refused to acknowledge.

Finlo stepped into the arena. He wore a strange scaled armor that covered his head and chest, and had chosen a simple, short wooden staff as his weapon.

“He is the bravest man I’ve ever seen... Or the stupidest.” I muttered as I leaned forward to get a better look.

When the match began, instead of hitting the troll, Finlo drummed on the iron bars of the cage with the wooden staff. He drew the troll closer before backing away and running to the other side of the arena to do the same. I could see how agitated the troll was getting as he lumbered after Finlo, chasing him around the arena, swinging his large fists at the smaller man.

Finlo was fast. So fast, I could hardly track him.

While the troll was still turning around, I watched with bated breath as Finlo scrambled up to the top of the troll cage and stood there, his knees bent as if to jump. As the troll moved by, focused on the corner where the last noise was made, Finlo leaped and landed on the troll’s shoulders. Bringing the judo stick around in a large arc, he struck the troll in the face.

The staff connected with a sickening crunch and green blood poured from the troll’s broken nose. The beast let out an almighty roar, his arms windmilling as he reached up to grab Finlo. I gasped as the troll’s massive hand wrapped around Finlo’s torso and threw him across the arena where he landed in a heap.

I gripped the edge of my seat as I watched the troll lumber toward where Finlo lay. The guards edged closer, ready to pull him out of harm’s way if need be. He did not stir.

The sound marking the end of the battle went off, startling everyone and the whole contingent of guards carefully advanced on the troll, driving him back towards his cage.

My heart was in my throat.

I couldn't drag my eyes away from Finlo's prone frame in the arena. Get up. Get up. Get up.

As if he could hear me, he sat straight up, shaking the dust free from his head. Carefully, he rose and walked towards the podium and gave me a courtly bow before submitting to the ministrations of the medics.

The crowd lost their minds cheering for the fallen Champion and I let out a relieved sigh to see him unharmed.

The guards and judges were huddled together on the podium arguing among themselves for several minutes but finally, they approached with a sealed envelope. Lark took it from them and handed it to me to read the judgement.

My hands shook slightly, and I could feel every fiber of the parchment I held.

“We wish to express our congratulations to all three of our Champions today for their impressive performances designed to show their prowess and ability to protect our Kingdom from the threat of mountain trolls. However, there can only be two who move forward in the Champions of the Heart Tournament,” I shouted to the crowd.

I took a deep breath, opened the envelope, and read the results aloud.

“Your Champions who will move on to the final task are: Eamon of the Trading House of Peregrine and Finlo of the Northern Mountains.”

I stepped back, allowing the crowd to cheer and celebrate. I felt a small twinge of sadness that Skarde would no longer be competing.

“We honor the Champion Skarde of the Viking Settlement for his impressive performance,” I finished. There were great cheers and applause for the defeated Champion, and all I could do was nod as he raised his sword overhead and followed the guards out of the arena.

“I will see my Champions tomorrow for a special breakfast in the Ice Gardens before we give them their third and final challenge.”

With a wave of my hands, I dismissed Eamon and Finlo and made my way back to my private exit from the arena.

It seemed surreal that I began this process only a few short days ago with a refusal to have a favorite... But now that I faced the prospect of marriage to one of the two men left; I hoped for one over the other.

***

Champion of Hearts Tournament Day 4

The Ice Kingdoms are known for many things: impassable glaciers, unfriendly wildlife, punishingly cold winters, an undefeated competitive ice dance team, and our elaborate Ice Gardens.

Each season, the most talented artists of the Kingdom spend several weeks in residence at the palace, carving and sculpting ice blocks from the Northern Lakes into beautiful sculptures and art pieces to make up the Ice Garden.

Each of the lakes are known for producing different colors of ice, and thus the garden is a collection of sparkling light green, pale blue, and even soft purple sculptures.

It was here that Lark decided I should meet my remaining two suitors for an after-breakfast stroll in order to “increase optics” or something for the televised portion. I knew better than to argue with her and instead just smiled and agreed.

I walked arm-in-arm with Eamon through the pixie section of the gardens and admired the detailed work of the artists who had spent hours carving flying pixies out of ice.

As we walked, Eamon kept up a steady monologue of conversation about his businesses, the many pieces of art he collected to adorn his many houses, and his general love of money. In some ways, the one-sided conversation was a relief.

Of the two remaining suitors, Eamon was the most predictable. I could count on him to talk for hours about his favorite topic: himself. He would not ask much of me, and the prestige of being King Consort would be enough to solidify his business deals and social status for a lifetime.

Perhaps that would be the best option.

There would be no need to worry about feelings with Eamon, with him it could truly be business.

A transaction where both parties benefitted and I wouldn’t have the annoyance of having to manage my own expectations beyond that.

He didn’t have to love me to be my husband.

We finished our circuit and were approaching the final statute when Eamon realized that our time alone was ending.

He halted and pulled me back a step to face him. “Your Highness, if I may be so bold?” he asked, his gloved hand reaching up to tuck a piece of hair up and behind my ear.

I shrugged, unsure of what he wanted to be bold about. It didn’t help that I didn’t really care enough to argue with him about it. There were guards posted all around the gardens, he couldn’t do anything to hurt me here, and why would he want to?

Before I knew what was happening, he pressed his stiff lips to mine in an awkward kiss. My hands were trapped between our two bodies as he kissed me. I struggled to move my arms and pushed him away with some surprise.

“That was very bold, Eamon of Peregrine,” I chastised him and then stepped around him to continue towards the rest of our party.

We walked in silence and when we arrived with the rest of the party, I barely acknowledged his bow, instead moving to stand at the furthest part of the courtyard to wait for Finlo’s arrival. My mind was still lingering on what it meant for him to have kissed me… I knew I should have felt something, but all I felt was annoyance.

I didn’t hear Finlo approach, and I jumped slightly when he appeared at my side. He held out a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

“You looked cold,” he said simply and held the mug out to me. I snorted and swallowed the retort that was on my tongue.

I was the ruler of the Ice Kingdoms and my entire life was cold… But instead of saying precisely that; I took a sip of the drink and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was the perfect temperature.

“I give you extra credit for being able to make a mug of chocolate at the perfect temperature,” I sipped it again, feeling the warmth flood my body.

He was right. I was cold.

Finlo said nothing, he just smiled and stared out at the view, content to just stand beside me.

“Your Highness, may I ask you something very personal?” He finally asked, turning his head slightly to glance at me.

I took a step back, remembering what happened when Eamon asked something of me earlier.

Finlo didn’t seem offended, though he had noticed my movement and his voice was gentle when he spoke. “Do you want us here? The Champions? Do you even want to marry one of us?”

I froze. I didn’t know what I had expected from him, but that wasn’t it.

“No,” I answered truthfully, “But being Queen is my birthright, and my duty. In order to accomplish my duty under our laws, I must marry. Our traditions do not consider what I want.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else but he stopped himself and smiled at me. “I guess I never expected you to answer that honestly. I’m glad you did.”

“My turn,” I said as I finished the last of the hot chocolate. I tapped the empty mug against my palm and looked at him carefully. “Is it true what they say about you?”

Finlo’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer to me. He smelled of wood smoke and chocolate and I had a strange desire to bottle that scent up and wear it as a perfume.

“That depends, Princess, on what exactly you are referring to.”

I pursed my lips at him, “They say you keep a dragon as a pet.”

I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a glint of something yellow flash behind his eyes. He winked at me and leaned close, “Forgive me, Your Highness, dragons are never pets.”

With another bow, he excused himself, leaving me alone in the Ice Garden. I sighed heavily and tapped the empty mug against my palm again. But this time, there was a small click in the empty mug as if something that was most certainly not liquid was inside.

Curious, I looked inside and saw a small carved dragon figurine at the bottom. I reached in and pulled it out, shocked to feel how hot it was.

Almost as if it were dragonforged, but surely not. Dragonforged objects have been long-lost to history.

Confused and full of questions, I wandered back to where my sister was busy ordering people around; I slid the strange object into my pocket as she turned to greet me, but kept my hand curled around it. It was warm and comforting on a cold day.

“How did it go?” she asked.

I shrugged. How was I supposed to answer that? Eamon had taken liberties he did not deserve, and Finlo had left me with more questions than answers. Did he even want to marry me? Why was he here?

Lark sighed heavily and tapped her clipboard. “It’s time to announce the final task.”

I pulled my hand reluctantly out of my pocket, handed my sister the empty mug and clapped my hands to draw everyone’s attention.

“We have come to our final task for the Champion of Hearts Tournament. Eamon of Trading House of Peregrine and Finlo of the Northern Mountains, the two of you remain the contenders for this tournament. You have proven yourselves as being able to survive the elements and protect the Kingdom. Now you have a final task before you: can you provide the future Queen of the Ice Kingdom with the jewels befitting my position for my coronation? I have hidden five gems in the mountainside. I task you with finding them. The Champion who returns with the most jewels will be the winner. You have until tomorrow night to return. May the Goddess of the Mountains favor you, Champions.”

I gave them both what I hoped was an encouraging smile, and they both departed through the gates, each running to their tents to gather supplies.

As I watched Finlo take off towards the mountain, his long legs eating up the ground in an easy lope, I wished him some extra luck.

I wound my arm through my sister’s and walked with her through the Ice Garden, recounting Eamon’s clumsy kiss, and Finlo’s stubborn refusal to answer my question. The little sculpture was still warm in my pocket, but I did not mention it. No matter what happened in the challenge, his gift would be my secret to keep.

***

Champion of Hearts Tournament Day 5

That night proved sleepless, and even though I tried, it was impossible to keep my eyes closed. In only a few short hours, I would find out who of the two contenders would be the Champion of my heart. Frustrated, I paced my room for hours as my mind raced through all the different scenarios that could play out and chastised myself for allowing some hope to slide into my mind—how had I let myself care about the results even a little?

The sun crested over the mountain and I squinted at the brightness. As I blinked, a strange shadow crossed the peak before diving below the mountain range. If I didn’t know better, I could have sworn I saw a dragon.

“It’s the lack of sleep, there are no dragons here.” I muttered to myself. I poured myself a large cup of coffee from the carafe on my side table. A mouthful of cold, stale, liquid reminded me I hadn’t rung for fresh coffee.

Remembering the hot chocolate from yesterday, I slid my hand under my pillow to retrieve the dragon figurine. It was still as hot as it had been yesterday. With shaking hands, I dropped it into the coffee mug and waited a few minutes before taking a tentative sip. It was the perfect temperature.

“Lumi! Lumi come quick!”

I almost dropped the cup as the heavy wooden door of my chamber slammed open and my sister ran into the room. Her usually perfect hair was a mess, and her dressing gown flew behind her like a cape.

“What is it?”

Lark pulled on my arm desperately. “There’s no time, just… Come!”

I grabbed my robe and my coffee and I followed her out of the room, down the hallway, and through the passageways to the front hall.

There, sitting in the middle of the floor, was Finlo. He was perched atop a brilliant gold chest, quite like the dragons I had seen in the ancient tapestries and famed paintings of the fantastical beasts that had once ruled these lands.

In his hand, he held a small leather bag. When I approached him, he held out his hand and poured the contents into it. All five gems sparkled out at me.

“You-you found all of them?” I stammered, examining the gems in his hand. Finlo nodded. I pointed to the gold chest. “And, what’s this?”

His chest puffed up with pride. “You asked me to find the gems and jewels befitting your station. I found them and then decided that they were not sufficient for your status as future Queen of the Ice Kingdoms, so I found more.”

I looked at him blankly.

“You just happened upon a hoard of treasure in the twelve hours you have been looking for it? What did you do, steal a dragon’s treasure or something?”

His eyes narrowed at me and I saw the flash of yellow behind his eyes again, gone in a blink.

“I stole nothing. This is my gift to you, Your Highness. You can accept it or not.” The normally smoky tones of his voice had become ice cold, and he stood, straightening himself up to his full height.

I smiled, but the change in his demeanor had left me wary. “Very well, you have completed the task set before you, Champion. I will declare you the winner at the ceremony tonight. We will be wed tomorrow.”

My words were stiff and formal, but inside? I was panicking. With a signal to the shocked servants in the hall, I had them collect the treasure and bring it up to my bedchamber.

Without another word to Finlo, I turned and marched back up the stairs.

“Oh my Goddess!” Lark squealed as soon as we were out of earshot, but she stopped short when she saw the look on my face.

“Lumi, what’s wrong? I thought you preferred him!”

Tears streaked down my cheeks but I was helpless to stop them. I just shook my head and hurried to my room. I shut myself in and slid to a heap on the floor.

With Eamon it would have been easy, a business transaction with no emotion involved.

But Finlo provoked so many terrifying thoughts and feelings that it felt like I might explode anytime I was around him.

Was this love? A spark, perhaps? But what would I do if he did not love me in return?

The treasure was delivered to my chamber, and I stared at it with disbelief as they piled it against one wall.

Where had it come from? How had he found it?

I stayed in my room for the rest of the afternoon and refused to come out or let anyone in. I did not even emerge to say goodbye to Eamon when he returned to the palace without a single gem to show for his efforts.

Twilight descended and the bright pinks and purples of a winter sunset spread through the sky as the city rejoiced in Finlo’s victory.

I heaved a sigh and finally opened the door, letting the beautification squad in to fuss over my hair and makeup.

It was time to meet my future husband for dinner.

I slid the little dragon figurine into my pocket and focused my energy on its warmth as I made my way down the stairs to where he was waiting for me.

He was breathtaking, his black suit tailored to fit every muscular curve of his body. A single golden signet ring was the only decoration he wore yet he looked more regal than most of the courtiers who draped themselves in jewels and fine clothing like glittering flowers.

I stopped in front of him, extended my hand, and felt a jolt of awareness when his warm hand grasped mine and he pressed a gentle kiss to my knuckles.

“You are the true treasure, Your Highness,” he whispered encouragingly. He tucked my hand into his elbow and walked with me to the entrance to the dinner hall.

I gave him a wobbly smile and slowly withdrew my hand from his elbow, straightened my skirts and walked two steps in front of him as trumpets and bells announced my entrance. As I made my way to the head table I could feel his stare burning a hole in my back until he joined me, sitting to my right for the first time.

Somehow we made it through dinner without incident, and I almost allowed myself to relax. He was easy to talk to, and I laughed with him. I allowed myself to enjoy his company until Lark approached us. Behind her were two footmen, their hands full with ceremonial robes and a giant sword. I swallowed hard and nodded.

It was time.

I stood up from my chair and spread my hands wide, smiling at all assembled, and for the cameras.

“Thank you for your support of our Champion of Hearts Tournament. I am pleased to officially recognize the victor of the Tournament and introduce you to your future King Consort.”

I hated the way my voice shook as I addressed the room, but the warmth of the figurine in my pocket gave me strength to continue.

“I will ask the future King Consort to please kneel before me to receive the gifts befitting the new station that he has fought so hard to win.”

Finlo squeezed my hand under the table before getting up and moving to the center of the room. He turned to face me, winked, and then bowed and knelt before me.

I took the royal cloak from the footman’s arms and draped the heavy garment over his shoulders before presenting him with the bejeweled sword.

“Do you, Finlo of the Northern Mountains, promise to safeguard and protect the Princess Royale of the Ice Kingdoms? To serve her people with loyalty and gentleness as King Consort?”

He looked up at me, his honey brown eyes full of sincerity. “I promise.”

I gulped and stepped down in front of him and offered him my hand to help him up before facing my waiting court.

“In front of my people and my court, I, Lumi, Princess Royale of the Ice Kingdoms, so pledge myself in matrimony, in accordance to the ancient traditions, to you Finlo, formerly of the Northern Mountains, Victor of the Champion of Hearts Tournament.”

The court broke out in applause. I raised an eyebrow at Finlo who was still staring at me with amusement and… something else that gave me shivers.

“It's tradition for you to kiss me,” I whispered to him as we intertwined our fingers and waved at the cheering crowd.

“Hmm. Is that so?” He whispered back, “Perhaps we should practice that.”

Before I could answer him, he stepped forward and swept me off my feet, carrying me cradled against his chest as if I were a child as he strode out of the Great Hall. Hoots of laughter followed us out the door and I felt my face flame red.

“What are you doing? Put me down this instant!” I cried out. I was trying not to enjoy the feeling of his warm chest or the way his laughter rumbled through him and vibrated against my shoulder.

As soon as we were in the private antechamber to the back of the Great Hall, he put me down and turned me to face him.

“I just didn’t feel like having an audience for the first time I kissed you.” He said it so matter-of-fact that I took a step back, suddenly unsure of myself.

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I just stared at him. He really was excessively attractive, with such unusual eyes. Flashes of yellow that come and go.

“Why do your eyes do that? They flash yellow sometimes when you look at me.” I asked.

Finlo froze and looked down at the floor for a long moment before looking back at me again. There was something vulnerable in his expression that made me want to comfort him.

“I didn’t know you could see that,” he whispered, “If you want me to go, I will go quietly.” He turned towards the window, carefully removing the cloak and setting it on the table.

“What? Go? Why would I want you to go?” I asked, confused.

“If I tell you, could you please promise not to scream?” he asked me, his voice tinged with sadness.

I stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I won’t scream,” I promised.

“In the Ice Garden, when you asked me if the rumors about me were true, you asked if I had a pet dragon. I said no. Which is true. I don’t have a pet dragon, but yet... I have a dragon,” he began, unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. “The flash of yellow in my eyes, that’s my dragon.”

I stared at him, completely at a loss for words as the truth of his words sunk in.

“You’re a dragon shifter?!” I whispered, my eyes wide as he removed his shirt, and folded it neatly next to the cloak, “I didn’t know your kind still existed!”

“As far as I know, I am the last of my kind,” he said finally. He removed his boots and placed them next to his growing pile of clothing.

“Is that how you found the treasure so quickly on the last challenge?” I asked, eyeing him curiously.

He let out a short huff of laughter. “Yes, the rumors about dragons and treasure are true. My dragon was eager to find the gems for you and was not satisfied until we acquired enough treasure to honor you properly.”

I felt a strange feeling of satisfaction that Finlo’s dragon would hold me in such high regard that it would not consider a gift of five precious gems enough.

“But what about the troll? You were knocked senseless!”

Finlo turned to look at me, standing in just his breeches. “My armor was dragon scale. The troll could not hurt me but I had to lay quiet to protect my secret. Your people would have reacted differently if I had shifted and battled your troll in my true form.”

It made sense to me and I nodded, imagining the chaos that would have erupted if a dragon had appeared in the arena.

“And the Great Glacier? How did you survive that?”

“I’m a dragon, Princess. I can’t freeze.” This time he reached out and tipped my chin up with his finger. Blazing heat moved through me from his touch and I bit my bottom lip.

“Why are you taking off your clothes?” I asked, averting my eyes from his naked torso.

“So I can show you what you are marrying. Could you please open the window?”

I stumbled over to the window, trying hard not to look at the naked man in front of me and failing miserably.

I threw open the window and turned to look at him, but instead of the handsome competitor who would be my King Consort, I found myself face to face with a ruby red dragon.

A small squeak of surprise escaped my lips, but I regained control of myself instantly. I reached my hand out tentatively towards his snout and brushed my fingers lightly across his scales.

The dragon huffed at me, small little wisps of smoke flaring out of his mouth. I could see the flashes of honey brown in his yellow eyes, reminding me that Finlo was still in there.

Slowly, I brushed my hand across his wings and wide back, marveling at the feel of his scales. I wondered what it would be like to ride him—to dive through the sky and chase the horizon.

“Can you switch back? I have some questions,” I finally asked, unable to keep my eyes off the sparkling scales that covered my future husband.

With a poof of smoke, a very naked Finlo appeared before me, holding his cloak strategically.

“I’m not the hero prince in fairytale stories, Your Highness,” he whispered. “I am the monster. A dragon. A thing to be feared and hunted. But, if you’ll let me, maybe I can be the hero in your story.”

I felt a small burst of heat in my heart and I nodded at him, still trying to process what just happened.

I'm getting married. To a dragon. What is my life?

“Call me Lumi. It's the least you could do, since you just turned into a dragon in front of me.” I said finally, turning to gaze out at the snow expanse of land.

My Kingdom.

“I’m not looking for a hero. I don’t need one. I am a ruler in my own right, ruthless and cunning when I need to be, and ice cold by necessity. Perhaps, though, together we could make a new future—one forged in dragonfire and cooled in ice, where we can be heroes of our own story?”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he turned his back to me. He pulled his shirt and pants back on quickly. As soon as he was covered, he stepped forward and pulled me into his warm embrace.

“A lifetime of you cooling my dragonfire with ice? I would like that.”

Without another word, he pressed his hot lips to my ice cold ones and a little part of my heart melted some more.

“We should go back, they are going to wonder what happened to us,” I finally whispered, breaking away from him and breathing heavily.

“Let them wait. Tomorrow, we are in charge of the whole country, aren’t we?”

I paused and smiled, “Well, yes. Also, it’s my birthday.”

“Then I am duty bound to wish my future Queen a happy birthday, am I not?”

He pressed another searing kiss to my lips, and every icy barrier on my heart melted away.

I had been right all along.

Finlo of the Northern Mountains was absolutely trouble. But the very best kind.

***

And so it was that Lumi, Princess Royale of the Ice Kingdom, and Finlo, Last Dragon Shifter of the Northern Mountains were married shortly before the stroke of midnight on Lumi’s 35th birthday, fulfilling the ancient traditions of her land.

They ruled together as Queen and King Consort for the rest of their days.

Being two people with mighty tempers and strong feelings, they fought with the passion of dragonfire and the cool logic of ice. Despite all of their differences, they lived together for the rest of their days, happier than most.

The End

About The Author

Bee Murray is a writer based out of the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys spending time with her family, staring out at a stormy ocean, diving headfirst into the magical worlds created by her favorite authors, and cheese plates. Although, not necessarily in that order. A voracious reader turned writer, she dreams of everything from grand adventures with deep complex characters to pun-filled romantic comedy, modern retellings of classic tales, and the strange nonsense that lives somewhere in-between.

You can find her on Instagram: @BeeMurrayBooks or on her website: www.beemurray.com to learn more!