Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
“Does Boraleashe visit often?” Dustin asked, tugging at the cinches of his tunic as if he was uncomfortable.
“No. He doesn’t.” Notalus led them out of his chambers. He hated that he didn’t have as amicable a relationship with Boraleashe as he did with Adres and Zepharali. Notalus didn’t know if it was because of his brother’s uncooperative wind or because of his frozen heart.
“You look stunning as always,” Dustin said as they descended the grand staircase hand and hand.
“I love you,” Notalus replied.
Hand in hand, they walked to the entrance of the palace and waited in front of the court as they got into their formal positions.
“Don’t be nervous, Dustin. All of this is just antiquated ceremony.” Notalus squeezed his hand.
“Shouldn’t your son be on the other side of you?” Dustin murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
“Yes,” Notalus answered stiffly, forcing himself not to glance around for his heir.
The doors were pulled open, and Notalus led his royal subjects down the palace stairs and into the grand courtyard. They were staring down the same cobblestone road that he and Dustin had walked when they arrived. The trumpets sounded again, and the temperature in the atmosphere shifted as gray clouds combed over the sky.
Notalus swallowed thickly when Boraleashe appeared suddenly in the sky on his pearl-white stallion in a mirage of frozen rain and astonishing white doves the size of eagles. His robe was blizzard white and clasped around his neck with a sable fur collar, and his armor shimmered like diamonds in the daylight. His wind was so cold it sounded like icicles falling to the ground as the air crackled and opened on his arrival. His court was trailing him on the ground on their speckled Clydesdales, unable to sail on his wind, but Notalus believed his brother preferred it that way.
Boraleashe was always alone.
“Patrons of Tir an Fhomhair! All hail the Lord of the North Wind, Boraleashe Cavalerie. The last of the horsemen and harbingers of justice, the overseer of the Realm of Winter, and creator of the first frost. Titan and ruler of Tír an Amárach, the Arctic World.”
Boraleashe landed with the full force of his power, sending flurries and ice skating over the warm ground. His brother’s ride to the palace seemed to take forever as he accepted warm autumn offerings from Notalus’ people. They bowed and tossed flowers at him, not only because he was a titan and lord of a season but because he was strikingly beautiful. The bottom half of his blizzard-kissed stark-white hair was flowing down his back, while the top half was cinched and braided into an intricate pattern that reminded Notalus of a snowflake.
The palace gates swung open, and Boraleashe sauntered inside on his impressive stallion. His court stopped a respectable distance away as Boraleashe dismounted with ease and went straight to him. Notalus pulled Boraleashe by his forearm into a strong hug, happy but a bit bewildered to see him.
“Brother. It has been too long.” Boraleashe said near Notalus’ ear, his voice chilling him.
“It has indeed.” Notalus released their grip and gestured to Dustin. “Boraleashe, allow me to introduce my—”
Boraleashe raised one of his immaculate white gloves that didn’t have a speck of dirt on it from his travels to cut him off. “Word travels fast through the realms, Notalus. I know exactly who you have chosen as your consort.” Boraleashe held his hand out to Dustin. “I had to see an alpha of the Moon Tribe for myself. It is a great honor.”
Dustin gripped Boraleashe’s hand, “It’s an honor to meet you too, Lord Boraleashe.”
The nobles bowed and curtseyed as Boraleashe made his way down the court, greeting each one. He stopped at the end of the row, his back growing rigid and the air growing cooler by the second.
“Where is he?” Boraleashe stood back in front of Notalus. “Where is the autumn beauty?”
“I do not know.”
“Of course you do,” Boraleashe gritted out, his hands clenching tightly at his sides. “He should be here. And I take great offense that he is not.”
“It appears you will have to get over it, brother,” Notalus growled, refusing to be intimidated in his own home.
“If I go look for him… he won’t like what I do when I find him.”
“Is that why you came here, Boraleashe? To start trouble?” Notalus stepped closer. “My son made his decision… accept it.”
“I told you why I’m here. I came to congratulate my brother on his new marriage and to celebrate the beginning of my season… and the end of yours,” Boraleashe said boldly.
Notalus didn’t get a chance to respond before his son appeared above them, floating regally on a warm gust of wind, his massive robe blanketing the air and blocking Boraleashe’s chill blowing down from the north.
Notalus’ palace lord stepped forward and announced, “Hail Theodor Cavalerie, the Treasure of the Harvest, sole heir and prince of the South Wind!”