Ice Palace

By Gemma Wolf

Angelique loves fairy tales, but she has no intention of marrying a prince, as her parents arranged upon her birth. After all, she has never even met Lucent, who lives across the ocean, and she does not want to leave her home or the boy next door, Sebastian. Then she learns she must also contend with the dangerous abilities and needs she inherited from her mother, a succubus. Can she control them or will they overwhelm her? And what of Sebastian and Lucent?

Ice Palace contains sexually explicit language and situations. It is intended for adults only, 18 years and up.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gemma Wolf
• Release date: Jun 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310829482

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ICE PALACE

by Gemma Wolf

Copyright 2014 Gemma Wolf

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this work may be sold, redistributed, reproduced, or copied without the written permission of the author. Exceptions are brief quotations in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

This work contains sexually explicit language and situations. It is intended for adults only and is not suitable for those under 18 years of age.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for your support!

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

Chapter XXI

Chapter XXII

Chapter XXIII

Chapter XXIV

Chapter XXV

Epilogue

Afterword

*

*

. . . And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, -

Guess now who holds thee? - Death, I said. But, there,

The silvery answer rang, - Not Death, but Love.

- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Sonnets from the Portuguese

*

PROLOGUE

Our families had signed the marriage contract upon my birth. Yet we lived so far apart from each other, separated by a continent and a vast and turbulent ocean, that it was easy for me to forget. And when I was openly reminded of it, which was rarely as my parents wanted to keep it a secret for my security, I treated it as a fairy tale, one that would never really come true, even though I was told that he was a prince, and I would one day live in a palace.

When I was ten and still expressing doubt, my mother said, Angelique, you've met other princes and princesses, and even the Queen of Meridia. Why is it so hard for you to believe?

Because I have never seen Prince Lucent and I have never been to Lamore. It is so far away and so different from Meridia, with its mountains and snow. And the clothing and the customs and everything. I know that you grew up in Lamore, Mother, but I am a Meridian.

There are differences, but even more similarities. Don't worry about little things. King Vidrian is perfectly lovely, and Prince Lucent likely is too. The Queen was a Meridian. And of course, the King went to school with your father here and is familiar with Meridian customs.

The King wanted to marry you, didn't he? I knew this was so, for Father sometimes teased her about it. It was strange to think that my mother had once been the ward of King Vidrian's father and might have been the Queen herself.

She laughed. He wanted to kiss me, darling, which is not at all the same thing. Perhaps he might have been willing to marry me to do so, but when I met your father, that was that.

I frowned. How did you know that Father did not want to marry you to kiss you?

My mother laughed again. She was always laughing. She was as known for it as her beauty. Of course, your father wanted to kiss me. As much as I wanted to kiss him. However, he was interested in more than kissing. As was I. That is how I knew he was the one for me.

Perhaps the Prince is not the one for me. Must I really marry him?

My mother's face sobered. The King requested this based on friendship, but of course you may decline, darling. The contract merely gives the Prince the opportunity to offer.

I did not understand that. I think I will decline.

You have years before you must decide. You may change your mind.

*

Chapter I

There were several attempts to assassinate my father, the Meridian Minister of War. The first set of culprits were killed, while the second set denied any intent to harm him, but somehow escaped into thin air. My father was always armed and had hired guards to protect the three of us, but he insisted that my lessons encompass training with a variety of weapons.

That was another secret.

Otherwise, I had a fairly normal childhood. When I was in town, I played with many friends, all girls, but when I was in the country, in the summer, my choices were limited. There were few children close to my age, and the only one near enough to see on a frequent basis was the boy next door, Sebastian. Sebastian's father - a Lord like my own - was a rake who dallied in town, while his delicate mother rarely stirred from her bed, leaving Sebastian to his own devices when he was not at school. They never came to neighborhood assemblies.

I did sometimes meet him out walking or riding, but he was three years older and a boy, so we merely exchanged brief pleasantries. That changed one afternoon when I was fourteen, freshly arrived from a house party. We spied each other in the woods along the border of our properties and he sauntered up to me, smirking. He was blond with tawny eyes.

Why do you always have two footmen or grooms trailing after you? he asked.

I lifted my chin. I'm extremely demanding. I make them fetch things and I hide.

Playing hide and seek was part of my training. Sebastian had once seen me climbing a tree, my dress rucked up, much to my embarrassment. It must have seemed quite childish.

We have no footmen. Not anymore. I suppose I'm the footman now.

Oh. Well, I don't really do that. Not really. It wouldn't be nice and I'd get into trouble. I noticed Sebastian looked taller and thinner than I'd last seen him. His hair was mussed and his clothes were grubby, as if he'd been working in the dirt. How long will you be here?

He looked down. I'm done with school. I don't know what I'll do now.

Hmm . . . I know. Would you like to come to tea?

His expression brightened. Would I! But I'm disgustingly filthy.

That doesn't matter. We'll have it outside.

I met Sebastian almost every day throughout the summer and he came to tea as often as I could persuade him, cajoling and teasing. When I realized that he was reluctant to accept what he saw as charity, I asked for help with my lessons and anything else that he might do, and refreshments were a side note. As autumn approached, I prepared to leave.

We're going back to town soon, Sebastian. What will you do?

The same as I have been doing, I suppose. I'm not going anywhere.

I wish you could come with us. If my parents ask, do you think your mother would agree?

I'm stuck, Angelique. I don't know how long the servants will stay, so I can't leave.

I talked to my mother, then my mother talked to his mother, but nothing was resolved before we left. I wrote to Sebastian several times while I was away. I never received a reply and I wondered if he'd gone away too after all. However, when we returned the next summer, he was walking in the woods at our usual time, after my lessons and before tea.

Hello, Sebastian. Did you miss me?

Yes. I missed you, Angelique.

Good, I missed you too. How is your mother?

She's a bit better, I think. She's gone to live with my aunt. She seems to be happier.

He came back for tea that day, and every day after that. I didn't need to persuade him or invent a pretense. His reluctance had vanished.

Sebastian told me that he had a skeleton staff, an elderly couple, but I knew that his gardens were long overgrown with weeds and brambles, while his house had missing shingles and broken windows. His appearance had also taken a turn for the worse. He had grown bigger, but his clothes had not. And he sometimes wore outdated and ill-fitting things that his father or some other man must have left behind. Yet I thought he had a certain panache.

In his father's and mother's absence, Sebastian served as the steward. Also the butler, the groom, the gardener, and, yes, the footman. Even when we were together, his time off, we'd sometimes forage for plants and berries, or he'd catch fish in the stream that ran through the woods. I guessed that he had done similarly many days while I'd been gone.

One afternoon, he made a fire to cook two fish for us on sticks. He said he wanted to see how different woods affected the flavor. Today's applewood had an enticing, sweet aroma.

Who cut your hair, Sebastian? I asked, looking down at him.

He ran his hand over it and laughed. I did. Why?

It's all straggly. You've lovely hair and it looks terrible.

Terrible? I hadn't given it much thought, but you're quite right and it's getting too long again too. Do you want to be my Delilah, Angelique?

No, I've never cut hair. Perhaps my father's valet -

He shook his head. You. Or I will do it myself.

Well, I cannot do worse. All right. Come over tomorrow.

When I told my mother, she did not object, as most Meridian mothers probably would - she merely looked amused. A voluptuous brunette, with a hint of Lamorean in her accent, she was often mistaken for my older sister and widely labeled a bluestocking. Some people clearly meant that as an insult, but I thought she was the best mother in the world.

She said, Try not to nick him, darling.

I was indignant. Of course not, Mother!

Sebastian duly came the next afternoon. Do you really intend to go through with this?

Yes. Scissors and comb in hand, I led him to a bench in the garden. You sit there.

He obediently sat. Those shears look lethal.

They are. I gently combed out his hair, which was smooth and thick, the strands varying in color from medium blond to dark brown. It was as uneven as a lion's mane.

That feels good. He shifted on the bench.

You'd better stop moving. I'm going to start cutting.

I worked slowly, combing and cutting, assessing the result of each snip. Sebastian kept his eyes closed for the most part, tensing every time I touched him. By the time I finally finished, I noticed that his face looked pained, as if he were ill. I brushed some stray hairs off his shirt.

There. I'm done. I stepped back. I didn't hurt you, did I?

No. Barely meeting my eyes, he said, Thank you. I must go.

Don't you want to see?

Not now. It's fine.

I felt a bit disappointed with his abrupt departure, but Xavier and Indigo, the two footmen watching us, assured me that I'd done a wonderful job, and Sebastian came to the house the next day with a bouquet of roses. He'd occasionally picked wildflowers for me on our walks, without much thought, but now he was blushing and acting awkward. I had to avert my eyes.

They're beautiful, Sebastian, I said, holding the roses gingerly and taking in their scent. I do like roses. Except for the thorns. But you removed those, didn't you?

Yes. I know you have roses here too, but I thought you'd like them.

I do. As much as wildflowers.

That night, my mother came to my room, where I'd been reading.

Angelique, she said, sitting by me, there are things you don't know about me that I think you should know now. I want you to listen and try to stay calm.

All right, Mother.

My father always told people that my mother died in childbirth. The truth was that she abandoned us after I was born. He was extremely wealthy, but we lived very simply in the Lamorean countryside. He taught me himself and we kept to ourselves. He was strict.

She paused, so I said, Yes, I know. You've told me so before. Her life reminded me of Cinderella's, which might have been why I tended to think of Lamore as a fairy tale country.

This is difficult . . . One day I felt a mild sort of ache. I ignored it and it became worse and worse until I thought I would die. When the doctor came, he - I killed him, Angelique.

I sputtered, You killed him?

She looked contrite. I didn't mean to do it, darling. I was young and I didn't understand. When I regained my senses, he was gone, nothing but ashes.

I gaped at my mother, speechless. If she were not a liar or a lunatic, and I did not think she was either, then she was a monster. My mother! Why did you do this? How?

My father said that my mother was a - Do you know what a succubus is?

One of my friends read naughty books and sometimes related snippets of them to me. According to her, a succubus was a demon who pleasured men and absorbed a little of their life essence. My mother must have taken all of the man's life essence. Yes, I know.

My mother looked somewhat surprised, but continued. "If my father had not told me the truth, I might have repeated my mistake, trying to ignore my feelings. I had to learn control. And