The End of Winter | Maria Christine

The End of Winter

A story of Friendship, Inner Strength, and True Love.

(Excerpt)

Chapter One

“You shouldn’t have followed me here,” said Sebastyén. He stared into the burning fireplace and leaned heavily against its mantel. His long, straight, rum-brown hair glowed like embers in the heated light. “This old house is bitter with cold,” he warned. “And the snow is beginning to fall. Return to the castle at once.” He spoke firmly but never turned to face his guest.

“No,” said the woman behind him. “I will not leave you alone like this.”

Sebastyén turned to her and bellowed, “Emilia, do not defy me. Go.”

Even his thunderous tone and towering frame could not persuade his sister. Emilia was now even more resolute. “Not unless you come with me,” she insisted. “With our uncle’s passing tonight, you are now king. You must accept your place on the throne.”

Sebastyén turned away. “I give it to you,” he said.

Emilia’s eyes became wide with surprise. “Brother, what are you saying?”

“I dare not accept it. I beseech you to take the crown. I do not want it.” Sebastyén sat in a chair by the fire and became silent.

Emilia knelt by his side and placed her hand upon his. She knew her twin brother well. His heart was full of pain. Her own heart was pained as well, for she didn’t know how to help him.

Many years earlier, their father, who was the king’s younger brother, had angered a woman by spurning her advances. In return, the woman, who some believed had otherworldly powers, swore that his first-born son would be stricken one day with a heart of ice. She foretold that he would become a fearsome king whose reign would cast a veil of darkness over the realm forever.

The royal family was always thought of as a benevolent and forthright people, revered for their compassion and wisdom. They believed the curse meant Sebastyén would turn malicious and cold. But, for years there was solace in knowing the boy would not inherit the throne, for Sebastyén was nephew to the king. The king’s own children would be next in line. But as the years passed and the king had no children of his own, the promise of the curse became more likely to come true.

The king was married briefly to a woman he adored, but she’d died childless and he’d refused to remarry. Knowing that he would have no children, the king bestowed the titles of prince and princess on Sebastyén and Emilia. They were to be his heirs after his own brother. Sebastyén, born first, was then second in line for the throne.

The family was watchful of Sebastyén; and watch as they did, they never saw a change in him take place. Their cherished son had grown into a strong and brave young man. He was as gracious and charming as they could have ever hoped. And his heart was true. Many nobles and royals had gleaming eyes fixed upon the beloved prince, but he swore he would marry for love else remain a contented bachelor for eternity.

On the day of his and Emilia’s twenty-first birthday, all seemed well. It had been a day of joy and peace. That evening, however, as the cold winter sun began to settle into the horizon, a terrible scream was heard on the air. A young child of one of the servants was stranded on the frozen pond. It was Sebastyén who rushed to save her, and just as he lifted her to safety, it was he who fell through the ice. He was rescued by his father, several guards, and by the king, who carried Sebastyén himself. He was taken to his chambers at once, but even in a warm bed and under a physician’s care, the young man laid unconscious for many hours.

Just as his color began to return, and before the startled eyes of his mother and father, Sebastyén’s chest began to project a tremendous blue light. His eyes flew open and his irises had turned a similar shade of pale blue and took the appearance of splintering ice. And just as quickly as it had started, it all faded away. His eyes returned to their normal dark shade and his mother began to weep. To both parents’ astonishment and grief, the curse had begun.

Over the next several years, Sebastyén became steadily colder. His temper grew shorter, his patience and sympathy began to wane. He was feeling darker, although he fought against it. It was as if a dark storm were brewing inside him, and would soon be unleashed. His parents had died long ago, and now his uncle. The time had come. With what he felt were the last ounces of humanity left inside him, he wouldn’t risk taking the throne. In fact, he might leave and never return.

“Sebastyén,” Emilia said softly. “The throne is yours and you will have it. There is good in you even now as you offer this selfless gift to me. You will overcome this affliction. You are the strongest man I know.”

Sebastyén looked down into his sister’s eyes. They were full of empathy and what she believed wholeheartedly to be the truth. “But dear sister, you know naught of the dark feeling that grows inside my heart. It is indescribable to me.”

He stood and walked to the window. The winter storm had begun and the wild wind beat mercilessly against the glass. “Emilia, hear me well, for I know this now to be true. If I take the throne, in a short time our people will not know a king… they will know a dark lord.”

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In the spirit of the episodic serials of the 19th century and before, I'm making each chapter of this work available for you to read along as I write them. Follow along at Kindle Vella.

Hardcover planned for release in 2025.