To Ride the Wind: A Retelling of East of the Sun and West of the Moon

Book 1: Four Kingdoms Duology

by Melanie Cellier

Genres: YA Paranormal; YA Romance

Synopsis

Charlotte has always longed to be accepted by her older sisters. She would gladly exchange her vaunted beauty for their friendship. But they ask a far higher price. Pushed into marriage with a stranger, Charlotte is left betrayed and alone. All she knows of her new husband is that he has secrets—and that her heart beats a little faster whenever he calls her Lottie.

Princess Gwendolyn's people are different—that’s why they dwell high in the mountains, far from all other kingdoms. So she’s shocked when she discovers her mother plans to marry her by force to a stranger from outside their lands. And when she uncovers the full truth, she knows the queen's scheming has gone too far. Gwen must intervene before her mother’s destructive touch blights the entire world. If only there was someone who could help her. But the boy who was Gwen's only true friend has long since disappeared, and she'd do anything to find him. But her mother has made that impossible.

In this reimagining of the classic fairy tale, East of the Sun and West of the Moon, a commoner and a princess must forge a friendship in order to find a path through the secrets and lies that surround them.

If you enjoy clean romance, adventure, intrigue, found families, and friendship, then try the Four Kingdoms duology now which retells one classic fairy tale across two books!

 

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Release date: May 31, 2024

Publisher: Luminant Publications

Sample

CHARLOTTE

flash of white caught Charlotte’s eye, unnaturally clean
and bright among the greens and browns of the forest.
She turned to face it, but it was already gone.
“Elizabeth!” A surge of unease in Charlotte’s stomach made
her tongue trip over her sister’s long name. “Odelia?”
She still remembered the childhood years when they had been
Bettie, Dellie, and Charli. But it had been many years now since
her older sisters had turned into prim young ladies who insisted
all three use their full names.
She called again, more loudly, but heard nothing in return.

The silence around her was deep—too deep for a forest in mid-
afternoon. She opened her mouth to call again but was silenced

by a piercing scream.
Launching into motion, she sprinted toward the sound only
to run headlong into her middle sister. The two girls bounced
away from each other, Odelia falling while Charlotte just
managed to keep her feet.
Her sister glared up at her from the forest floor.
“What is it?” Charlotte asked, too frightened to worry about
Odelia’s irritation. “Why did you scream?”
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MELANIE CELLIER
Odelia stood and brushed off her dress. “That wasn’t me.” Her
voice carried a note of superiority. “Elizabeth was the one who
screamed.”
But Odelia couldn’t entirely hide the anxiety in her face as she
glanced back the way she’d come.
Charlotte sucked in a breath. “Is she all right?”
She started in the direction of the scream, but she hadn’t
made it more than three steps before her eldest sister appeared,
stalking through the trees with stiff dignity.
Charlotte raced to her side, grasping her arm. “Are you hurt?”
She tried to examine her sister, but Elizabeth shook her off.
“I’m fine,” she said shortly, glaring at Odelia. “I can’t believe
you abandoned me! I suppose you were hoping I would be eaten
first, giving you a chance to escape.”
Odelia turned pink but stuck up her chin defiantly. “Your legs
work as well as mine. It’s not my fault you froze.”
“Eaten?” Charlotte asked, impatient with their bickering.
Both turned on her with a synchronized movement, glaring at
the youngest. Charlotte winced. Elizabeth and Odelia might
bicker at times, but they were barely a year apart and had always
formed a united front when it came to her.
She sighed, but for once she was concerned enough not to
back down. “Is there a dangerous creature about? I thought I saw
something among the trees...” She trailed off, unable to think
what predator might have been responsible for that flash of
white.
“It was an enormous bear,” Elizabeth replied in a small voice,
apparently subdued by the memory. “A white bear.”
“White?” Charlotte gasped. “I thought they only lived in the
far mountains! What was one doing down here in our valley?”
“As for that, who knows.” Odelia looked at Charlotte with
narrowed eyes. “But where were you?” She spoke as if she
suspected her sister of setting the bear on them.

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TO RIDE THE WIND
“I saw a flash of white earlier.” Charlotte pointed toward a
place between the trees. “I couldn’t think what it might be.”
All three young women turned to stare at the place she indi‐
cated, their earlier fear overwhelming their disharmony. Eliza‐
beth and Odelia might have been pretending to be unaffected,
but they were clearly still afraid.
Something moved between the trees, mostly out of view, but
none of them could miss the glimpse of pure white. Odelia
screamed, and all three sprinted away from the bear toward their
house.
Elizabeth and Odelia soon outstripped Charlotte. Given her
petite frame, she had never been a great runner. As she fell
behind, she knew she should be afraid, but she couldn’t help a
surge of curiosity.
She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the trees for any
glimpse of a snow-white bear. Did such a thing really exist? And,
if so, what was it doing in her forest? In the five years her family
had lived in the region, she had never heard tell of a brown bear
in the area, let alone a white one. Could Elizabeth or Odelia have
mistaken what they’d seen?
Her steps slowed even further, and she half turned. She knew
she shouldn’t look behind her while moving—she was going to
walk into a tree if she kept it up—but she couldn’t bring herself
to blindly flee for home. It was rare for anything new or inter‐
esting to occur in this remote valley.
But her momentary courage fled the moment an enormous,
white-furred shape lumbered out from between two trees. Her
steps faltered and she stumbled to a halt, her mouth falling open.
The creature was even larger than she’d imagined, and its fur
seemed impossibly white for a wild creature. Charlotte herself
never wore white, since the material didn’t stay that way for long.
The bear lifted one foot to step forward, and her eyes caught
on its long black claws. Her heart took off into frantic flight, and

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MELANIE CELLIER
her muscles tensed, ready for her body to join it. But just as she
sprang into movement, her eyes found the bear’s.
Her breath caught. Objectively, they looked just like those of
any bear, but there was something in the creature’s expression
that she couldn’t dismiss.
She wanted to pause, even to reach toward the bear, but her
body was already running. Within steps, trees blocked a clear
view of the animal’s face. She slowed, but the memory of the
claws returned, and she shook herself. She must have imagined
the look in the bear’s eyes. There was no way an animal could
display such sympathy, despair, and longing with a single glance.
She didn’t look back again as she fled, and within minutes she
had reached her family’s wooden home. It was smaller than ideal
for five people, and the paint was long since peeling, but at least
the walls and door were sturdy. No wild animal had attacked the
structure in the past, and there was no reason to think a bear
would do so now.
She pulled on the door, meaning to fling it open and tumble
inside, but it resisted her tug. Someone had latched it, although
they didn’t usually secure it during the day.
“Elizabeth!” she cried. “Odelia! Open the door!”
A shuffling sounded inside, and a crack appeared. Her oldest
sister’s eye peered through, as if checking to see that Charlotte
wasn’t a bear speaking with the voice of a girl.
Charlotte huffed and pushed the door the rest of the way
open, shoving her sister back. Lately her relationship with her
sisters had regressed, and she had been restraining herself
around them, but she was too irritated to hold it inside.
“You locked me out there? Are you serious? You were just
going to leave me to be eaten?”
“I’m very thankful no one has been eaten.” Her mother spoke
with a faint trace of amusement. “But was there really such a
need for concern? White bears in the forest sounds like one of

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TO RIDE THE WIND
your childhood tales, Charlotte, but I don’t know what to make
of it when all three of you claim you saw the creature!”
Charlotte winced. Her childhood claim that an invisible girl
lived in a tower in the woods had been proven true in the end,
but apparently she was never going to live down her reputation
for being fanciful.
She directed an extra glare at her sisters, although neither of
them was looking in her direction. It was partially thanks to her
sisters that she had acquired the reputation in the first place.
They had known the truth of the girl in the tower but had still
taken delight in undermining Charlotte’s claims. Her relationship
with both Elizabeth and Odelia had seemed much improved in
recent years, however, thanks to their leaving their old town
behind and moving to such a remote area. But lately, it seemed as
if nothing had changed after all.
“Perhaps you all imagined a bear,” her mother said in a more
comforting tone. “Sometimes the shadows among the trees can
be positively fearsome.”
The older two protested this suggestion, but their manner
lacked the certainty Charlotte felt. Now that they were in the
comfort and security of home, they were clearly both feeling
ashamed of their reaction among the trees.
Charlotte shook her head stubbornly, however. “I saw it
clearly. It was definitely a bear—and an enormous one too. I
knew bears were large but not that large. And its color...” She
shook her head. “It was such a pure white it would have hurt to
look at its fur if the sun had been higher.”
Neither of her sisters responded to her words, and her
mother soon set them to chores around the house, separating
Charlotte and her sisters in the process. It was an intentional act,
Charlotte knew. Her mother was trying to give them space in the
hopes it would soften the other two toward Charlotte. She had
been doing similar things ever since the recent resumption of her

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MELANIE CELLIER
sisters’ old hostility—a change triggered by the celebration for
their cousin’s wedding.
But though Charlotte knew her mother meant well, she was
tired of feeling alone and just wanted someone to take her side
for once. It had been different in their old home. As young chil‐
dren, the sisters had been close enough, and by the time Eliza‐
beth and Odelia pulled away from Charlotte, she had friends she
could turn to in their place. When she was younger, she had
solved the problem of her sister’s growing animosity by escaping
the house and them as much as possible, spending her time with
her friends instead.
But it was different this time. When their father had first
announced the family was moving to join his sister and her
family in the far eastern valleys, Charlotte hadn’t been too
worried. Elizabeth and Odelia had complained that their destina‐
tion was too remote, but the family had always lived in one of the
remotest towns in Northhelm, so Charlotte had dismissed their
complaints. The timing had even seemed perfect since her closest
friend had just left the village.
But it turned out that the unscalable peaks forming the
eastern border of Rangmere were even more remote than the
forests of Northhelm. And while a number of secluded valleys
were hidden in the lower part of the range, very few humans
made those valleys their home. Charlotte had assumed they
would at least have their cousins for company, but even they
lived several hours’ ride away. It had been a shock at first, and she
had feared living in such an isolated way with only Elizabeth and
Odelia for company.
But the isolation had worked to her advantage. It had been the
presence of others that had first caused the issues in the sisters’
relationship. First, the girl in the tower had chosen Charli as her
closest friend, despite Elizabeth and Odelia being closer to Daisy
in age. And afterward, the youths who caught her sisters’ eyes

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TO RIDE THE WIND
had looked past them to their younger sister and the growing
promise of her great beauty.
Elizabeth and Odelia, so close in age, had always been closer
to each other than to Charlotte, and it had been easy for them to
form an alliance against her. But in the valley, it was only the
three of them, and her sisters had softened toward Charlotte,
growing less distant and severe until she had even started to
think of them as friends again, as they had been as children.
All of that seemed over, though. Their cousin had recently
married, and everyone from three valleys had gathered for the
occasion. There had been several new young men, recent arrivals
to one valley or another, and it had also been the first gathering
since Charlotte had turned eighteen. Since social customs decreed
her birthday made her eligible for potential courtship, it had been
a disastrous combination. Not one unattached young man had
looked in the direction of either of her sisters, and in such an
isolated living situation, that was too great a blow for them to bear.
Charlotte hadn’t felt a connection with any of the young men,
but it hadn’t mattered. Before they even arrived home, all the
progress of five years had been lost. Their memories of her
supposed past crimes had reemerged, and Charlotte was back to
being a source of resentment, an other her sisters could unite
against. As the younger sister, she was supposed to wait her turn,
not constantly steal the attention her sisters desired.
The door thudded open, and their father strode into the
house, his cheerful smile banishing Charlotte’s gloomy memo‐
ries. If Charlotte had the qualities of a dreamer, she had inherited
them from her father. It was no surprise he had followed the
rumor of prosperity to a distant land—the true surprise was that
he had remained settled in Northhelm for so long.
Looking back, Charlotte should have known it was the begin‐
ning of the end when a royal tour visited their old town. Not that
her father bore any resentment toward King Richard or his heir,

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MELANIE CELLIER
but a place visited by royalty was far too established to satisfy the
explorer inside him—the one who wanted to carve order from
the wilderness and uncover riches for his family in the process.
Her sisters still resented their father for ignoring their
protests in favor of his own urge to go. But Charlotte couldn’t
maintain resentful feelings in the face of his obvious pleasure in
their new home. He could never hide his joy after a day spent
taming their land without another soul in sight, and she could
rarely help smiling in response to his happiness.
His eyes fell on Charlotte first, standing closest to him. He
immediately swept her into a hug, his bulky jacket emphasizing
their size difference.
“Charli-bear!” He squeezed her as her broom dropped to the
floor, and she buried her face in the soft leather of his jacket,
barely holding back tears. Her father had his faults, but he was
always warm and affectionate, and lately she had needed those
qualities more than anything.
“You can’t call her that anymore,” her mother said in a tone of
indulgent amusement. “The girls have seen a real bear in the
forest.”
“A bear?” Her father released her and stepped back, turning to
look at Elizabeth and Odelia with a chuckle. “Here in the valley?
It must have been a shadow you saw, although I’m sorry to hear
you had such a fright.”
He glanced at Charlotte, clearly as surprised as her mother
that it was her sisters and not Charlotte spouting tales of a bear
on the loose. And it was true that in the past she had shared her
discoveries without first stopping to consider how credible they
might seem to others.
A small, resentful part of her wanted to stay silent—or even to
speak up in agreement that it had only been a shadow. She knew
from bitter experience that her sisters wouldn’t hesitate to
undermine her in such a fashion. But the idea of being dishonest
made her stomach squirm.
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TO RIDE THE WIND
“Actually, it couldn’t have been a shadow,” she told her father.
“It wasn’t dark but white. I’ve never seen a creature with such
pristine white fur.”
She expected her father to protest, possibly even to laugh at
her, but he did neither. Instead, a strange look passed over his
face—an expression almost like fear. Charlotte frowned, but
before she could question him, his smile returned.
“Well, well! I suppose anything is possible. These mountains
must hold secrets unknown to any man. It is enough that he
wasn’t able to get his claws into any of you.”
He gathered up his older daughters into the same hug he had
given Charlotte, but they both protested and squirmed out of his
grip.
“Tomorrow I’ll check the closest sections of forest before you
go out,” he promised them. “If there is any sign of the creature, I’ll
drive it off.”
He glanced at the enormous bow and arrow hung beside the
door, and Charlotte felt an unexpected tug in her chest. The
emotion she had imagined in the bear’s face couldn’t have been
real, but she couldn’t shake its lingering effects. It hurt with a
melancholy ache to think of the majestic beast riddled with
arrows, red blood marring his white fur.
“He wasn’t aggressive,” she said quickly. “I don’t think he
meant to hurt us.”
Elizabeth and Odelia both shrieked protests at this sugges‐
tion, but her father looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“You don’t wish me to drive it off?” He hesitated and then
smiled. “I suppose you must feel a sense of kinship, Charli-bear.”
Elizabeth sniffed loudly. She and Odelia had long ago insisted
their father give up his childish nicknames for them, and Char‐
lotte knew they looked down on her for allowing him to still use
hers. But while she had submitted to the use of her full name in
all other circumstances, she couldn’t bring herself to reject her
father’s use of her old pet name. Every time she heard it, she felt

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MELANIE CELLIER
warm, like being wrapped in a blanket made of affection and
memories of happy times.
“I’ll do my best to scare it away without harming it,” her father
said in a softer voice. “Indeed, I would prefer not to harm it. It is
no small matter to fight a creature of that size, and who knows
what the consequences would be.”
He said the last part quietly, almost to himself, and he didn’t
seem to notice the odd look Charlotte gave him. Her mother’s
call for them to help prepare the evening meal interrupted the
moment, and she lost the chance to question him further. But
when she finally lay on her pillow, her ears full of her sister’s
even breathing, the image of the bear returned to her mind.
He had almost looked as if he would speak, and as she drifted
off to sleep, she realized she would very much like to hear what
he was going to say.

10

S

CHARLOTTE

he slept fitfully, her rest disturbed by strange dreams of
snowy tundras and snarling bears. Consequently, she
slept in, and by the time she woke, her sisters were fully dressed,
bustling around their shared room while they muttered
comments about lazy layabeds.
Charlotte rushed to catch up with them, stuffing herself into
her clothes without even taking time to brush her hair. She rarely
bothered to enhance her appearance in any way—her looks had
been the cause of enough resentment as it was—but she preferred
to present herself neatly, at least. She’d slept too late for that on
this occasion, however.
But as she finally escaped into the forest, she acknowledged
there was no need for tidiness. She wasn’t likely to see anyone
else all day. Especially since she was alone for once. Despite their
father’s reassurances, her sisters hadn’t been brave enough to
venture away from the house so soon after sighting the bear.
Her mother had looked once between her elder daughters and
her youngest and declared she had plenty of tasks to keep Eliza‐
beth and Odelia occupied inside. And this time Charlotte felt
nothing but gratitude for her mother’s instinct to separate them.

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MELANIE CELLIER
She breathed in the fresh air deeply, glad to be free of the
confines of the small house. But as she walked, she glanced back
at her home and sighed. The only thing that had reconciled her
sisters to their move was the promise that the family would be
better off once they had land of their own in a region with plen‐
tiful resources. Her father had been full of stories of the wealth of
the valley folk, as relayed by his sister.
But so far that wealth had failed to materialize. According to
their father, it would be unlocked soon. He often claimed they
just needed more time—time he gave cheerfully—before they
would reap all the rewards the valley had to offer. But he was
never clear about the source of the promised wealth, and the
rewards had assumed a mythical status in Charlotte’s mind.
For the moment, they were significantly worse off than they
had been in the village. And this reality had likely only exacer‐
bated the recent return of her sisters’ resentment and ill temper.
After days of celebration at the home of their much wealthier
cousins, it had been difficult for all of them to come back to their
own house, but her sisters had been the most affected. Elizabeth
and Odelia might have directed their resentment toward Char‐
lotte, but she was far from the only cause of their unhappiness.
Charlotte herself occasionally gave in to bouts of resentment,
although she never seemed able to hold onto her irritation for
long. She certainly didn’t care about being wealthy—their fami‐
ly’s needs were always met and that was enough for her. But she
missed her old home and her friends there, and those feelings
had grown hugely since the wedding and the subsequent alien‐
ation from her sisters. Would it have been so bad to stay in a
village where they were known and valued, even if they were not
among its wealthier inhabitants?
She tried to shake off the thoughts and instead enjoy her
surroundings. Spring was finally shedding winter’s grip on the
landscape, buds poking up everywhere she walked. She watched
them with pleasure, keeping a careful eye out for anything edible.

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TO RIDE THE WIND
After a winter of dried and preserved food, she was longing for
greenery on their tables. She wouldn’t be able to gather as much
without her sisters, but she was determined not to come home
empty-handed. Now that the last of the snow had melted,
everyone was looking forward to a greater variety of meals again.
A flash of white once again caught her eye, and the jolt of
excitement that shot through Charlotte made her admit what she
had really been looking for. She froze, a distant part of her mind
screaming to flee for the safe walls of home. Her feet didn’t move,
however. She knew she should feel fear, but curiosity burned
more strongly. Despite everything, she had to know if she had
imagined the expression on the bear’s face the day before.
She barely breathed as he lumbered between two trees,
moving in her direction. He hadn’t seen her yet, and she rose on
her toes, ready to run if he responded to her presence with
aggression.
His large white head swung in her direction, his dark eyes
fixing on her. Instantly he froze, reacting just as she had at the
sight of him. It was such an unexpected reaction that the breath
whooshed from her lungs, her muscles relaxing. More than
anything, his surprise seemed so...human.
“You came back.” The words were low and gravelly with a
wild edge that hinted at their origin.
But even so, the sound was too shocking to be immediately
understood. She opened her mouth, intending to exclaim in
surprise, but only a squeak came out.
The bear blinked, still not moving closer.
“When I saw your father searching the woods with his bow
this morning,” the bear said, “I thought I had surely frightened
you all away.” Seeing his mouth move in time with the words
made it impossible to deny the reality of what she’d heard.
The animal was speaking—and in perfectly intelligible words.
“You...you can talk,” she said, her voice trembling.
The bear made such a terrifying rumbling sound that she

13

MELANIE CELLIER
nearly ran, but a certain brightness to his eyes gave her pause.
Was he laughing?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I couldn’t
think of any other way to communicate.”
“No,” she said blinking, “I suppose not.”
Silence fell as she tried to think what else to say. While she
had never been excessively talkative like some children, she had
rarely been at a complete loss. But what sort of conversation was
one supposed to have with a bear? The entire interaction was
inconceivable.
Or was it? Her thoughts stopped in their wild spinning as she
remembered a story Daisy used to tell. The tale had been about a
girl from a kingdom across the desert—a girl who had become a
princess with the help of a talking cat.
According to the story, the cat had come from the High King’s
lands. It made sense, of course. Something as fantastical as a
talking animal had to come from the Palace of Light. In fact,
hadn’t one of her cousins claimed to hear stories of a talking
horse who had spent some time in Rangmere? Her cousin had
never met the steed himself, but he had insisted the story was
true. And in that tale, the creature had come from the Palace of
Light as well. If the High King’s lands contained a talking cat and
a talking horse, why not a talking white bear?
She relaxed. It still didn’t explain what such an animal was
doing here, in their valley. But at least she was in no danger from
a companion of the High King. However long his claws and sharp
his teeth, no animal from the Palace of Light would eat a human.
At least, she didn’t think one would.
She considered how to phrase a query about the bear’s
origins. She didn’t want to offend him by appearing too
suspicious.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?” he asked while she was still
debating the matter internally.
“Should I be?” she asked back, still marveling at the way his

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TO RIDE THE WIND
head cocked to the side in curiosity and at the intelligence in his
dark eyes. It was no wonder she had sensed from the first that he
was no ordinary bear.
“You have nothing to fear from me,” he said promptly, and
somehow his words comforted her, despite the deep, gravelly
tone.
“Thank you.” She offered him a small curtsy. She wasn’t
entirely sure if you were supposed to curtsy to anyone from the
Palace of Light or only to the High King himself. But it seemed
better to be safe than risk offending such a very large creature.
The bear dipped his head in response, seeming pleased with
her action.
Silence fell again as she considered how she was going to tell
this story to her family. She could already hear her sisters’
ridicule. They would never believe the bear was friendly, let
alone that it could talk. Especially not after their excessive—and
apparently unnecessary—fear the day before.
She bit her lip.
“Does something trouble you?” The bear took several steps
toward her before halting abruptly, as if he had suddenly realized
she might not welcome his approach.
She smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness.
“It’s nothing of importance,” she said. “Merely that my sisters
don’t like me, and that’s hardly new.”
She blinked, surprised by her own words. Whatever had led
her to blurt out her problems? She had to be badly starved of
companionship if she was turning to a bear as her confidante.
He gazed at her with such quiet patience that somehow her
mouth opened and more words poured out.
“I do nothing to antagonize them. Quite the opposite! But the
two of them are so close in age and temperament, and they’ve
always been willing to close ranks against me at the smallest
perceived slight.” She sighed heavily. “I thought we were making
progress when we moved out here. I even began to think of them as

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MELANIE CELLIER
friends. I guess that’s why it hurt so much more when they turned
against me this time. I’ve been doing my best not to provoke them,
but it makes no difference when they’re in this mood. They see
fault in everything I do and say.” Her voice dropped. “I suppose they
don’t need me. They have each other. But that leaves me all alone.”
The day before, she would have said it was impossible for a
bear to frown. But there was no denying his frown in response to
her words. His intense gaze fixed even more closely on her face.
“I’ve been watching you all for days,” he admitted after a
moment, making her start. “Even I, a stranger, have been able to
see your sisters’ feelings toward you.” His eyes narrowed, and his
voice dropped so low it was practically a growl. “Shall I teach
them some manners?”
Her eyes widened, a strange rush washing through her—half
fear and half imagined delight at the thought of the bear
confronting her sisters. But she couldn’t encourage the dark turn
of his mood.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “You need to stay away from them!
They’re already afraid of you as it is. If you frighten them too
badly, they’ll never leave the house again.”
“And then you’ll have to gather food on your own,” he said in
a milder tone, looking disappointed. “I suppose that will only
make everything worse.”
She tried to hide her smile and didn’t quite succeed. He
sounded almost like a child denied a favorite sweet. But a
moment later, he brightened, as if struck by a new thought.
He didn’t speak, however, and her thoughts returned to his
earlier words. He had been watching her and her sisters as they
gathered food. Why?
She opened her mouth to ask him, but he spoke at the same
time.
“What are the local wedding customs in this area?”
His unexpected words made her forget her own question

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TO RIDE THE WIND
entirely. She stared at him, unable to fathom what interest a bear
could have in such matters.
“You want to know about our marriage customs?” she
repeated, sure she must have heard wrong.
He shook his head slightly. “I don’t care so much about the
marriage itself, just the wedding. I know the customs differ in
different regions.”
She wasn’t sure if his clarification made the question more or
less strange.
“You really want to know how the people of the valleys do
wedding ceremonies?” she asked, still unable to believe she’d
understood correctly.
“Very much so,” he said. “I’ve come here especially for that
purpose.”
She gaped at him. The bear had come all the way from the
Palace of Light to research how different regions conducted
wedding ceremonies? Was he traveling the entire Four King‐
doms, or only the remotest parts? Would he want to know about
other ceremonies and celebrations as well?
She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to explain a local funeral
because she hadn’t been to one since they moved from North‐
helm. In fact, she only knew about weddings because of her
cousin’s recent marriage for which they had spent three days at
her aunt and uncle’s to join the celebrations.
Perhaps that was why the bear was asking her about weddings
in particular. Had he overheard talk about a recent one in the
area?
“Since the people of the valleys live so far apart,” she said hesi‐
tantly, “we welcome reasons to gather together. Because of that,
an occasion as joyous as a wedding is usually accompanied by a
celebration of several days. That also gives the opportunity for
young people to meet each other.” She gave a small chuckle.
“Otherwise there wouldn’t be any future weddings.”

17

MELANIE CELLIER
The bear didn’t smile in response, though. Instead, he looked
disappointed. “The local weddings last for days?”
“Not the wedding itself,” she rushed to assure him. “Just the
celebration around it. The actual ceremony is short and simple.
Valley folk work too hard to waste time and effort on weighty or
expensive traditions.”
The bear took another step forward, not seeming to notice he
was doing so.
“A simple ceremony? What does it involve?”
She shook her head slightly, still utterly bemused. “The bride
and groom hold hands in front of their family and friends and
make their promises. They promise to support each other
through life’s joys and disappointments and to remain loyal.
Then the parents each speak a blessing. And that’s the whole
thing. I know it’s nothing like the elaborate ceremonies they hold
in the cities, but it’s accompanied by just as much joy and love.”
“What if the parents don’t approve?” he asked. “Or they’re not
able to be present? Can the ceremony happen without their
blessing?”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Since the bride and groom have to be
adults, it can still go ahead without the parents. It is merely
customary to include them.”
“An exchange of promises,” the bear muttered to himself. “So
simple.”
Charlotte straightened, reading an insult in his words. “The
people of the valleys might be simple folk, but they are good folk,
for the most part. And they’re certainly hardworking. Fancy
gowns and elaborate speeches aren’t the mark of good character.”
The bear blinked at her, as if he was just as bemused by her as
she was by him. Perhaps he hadn’t meant his words as an insult
after all?
“I know that well,” he said in his rumbly voice. “It is merely
the simplest wedding ceremony I have yet encountered. But I can
assure you I am pleased to hear it.”
18

TO RIDE THE WIND
He spoke as if he was well-traveled. Had he already been all
around the Four Kingdoms for his research? Perhaps he had
even been to the kingdoms across the desert or the ones across
the sea. Although she couldn’t imagine the white bear lumbering
up a sand dune beside a camel string, nor could she picture him
on the deck of a ship. Just the thought made her lips twitch
upward.
But then an inhabitant of the Palace of Light probably had
other means of transportation.
The bear seemed transfixed by the movement of her lips, and
it occurred to her that he might think she was laughing at him. A
twinge of guilt reminded her that she had been, in a way.
“Would you like to know about other local ceremonies?” she
asked, contrite.
“Oh, uh, no, this is fine.” He stumbled over his words for the
first time since initiating the conversation. “I think,” he added,
“that there is someone else I need to speak to now.”
“Oh, of course,” Charlotte said, surprised at the strength of
her disappointment. “I suppose I won’t see you again, then. You’ll
be moving on to some other place soon.” She peeped across at
him, a little embarrassed, but not able to stop herself adding,
“Won’t you?”
“Yes,” he said. “At least I hope so. I hope I may soon return
home.”
She nodded, telling herself she should be pleased for his sake.
The note of longing in his voice told her he missed his home, and
she could hardly blame him, given the tales of the Palace of Light.
“I hope your journey is smooth and swift,” she said, giving a
deeper curtsy than she had at the beginning of their
conversation.
“And I hope all your troubles are soon resolved,” he replied.
She smiled at him, once again touched. “Thank you, White
Bear. It is kind of you to think of the troubles of an insignificant
girl from the valleys.”

19

MELANIE CELLIER
“Insignificant?” He sounded thoughtful. “Are you? I
wonder...”
For what felt like the hundredth time since meeting him, she
was left in confused surprise at his words. But this time he
moved before she could respond or question him further. With a
final dip of his head, he swung around and disappeared back into
the trees, moving faster and more quietly than she would have
thought possible for such a large animal.
She stood watching the spot where he had stood far after the
last glimpse of white fur had disappeared. Had she really just
exchanged an extended conversation with a bear?
And what a strange conversation it had been.
She finally shook herself and turned north. She still had
searching to do if she didn’t want to return home empty-handed.
And since she wasn’t sure it was a good idea to tell her family
about the bear, it would be better if she didn’t provoke questions
by coming home with nothing to show for her day’s effort.

20

G

GWEN

wen stood in the doorway and surveyed the ballroom. It
was full of people dancing and talking, and she
wondered how it was possible to feel so alone while
surrounded by so many people. Perhaps it was a special talent of
hers.
“Gwendolyn.” The sound of her full name on her mother’s lips
made her back stiffen.
She had vague childhood memories of liking her name.
Princess Gwendolyn. It had sounded so elegant. But it had long
since become a word that reminded her of responsibilities and
unpleasant duties. And loneliness.
She knew all about how to behave properly as Princess
Gwendolyn, but it felt like a role she slipped into in her mother’s
presence rather than something that actually belonged to her.
And it was a role she always did alone. Was it really too much to
ask that in this whole sea of people she might have one true
friend?
She suppressed a sigh and pasted a smile on her lips. If she
took any longer to enter the ballroom, her mother would say her

21

MELANIE CELLIER
name again but with an edge. And Gwen never liked what
happened after Queen Celandine spoke to her with that edge.
If Easton had been there, he would have looked up at her
from the mass of faces and smiled and just that would have been
enough to drive back the loneliness. Gwen balled her hands into
fists, hiding them in her skirts. Why was she thinking of Easton?
Usually she kept her thoughts under better regulation, but the
errant memories of early childhood had brought him to the front
of her mind. It wasn’t that he ever completely left it, but she
knew she had to keep him walled away from the surface of her
thoughts. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to continue the grind
of daily living without her mother throwing around phrases like
unnecessary melancholy and childish dramatics. All said with the
edge, of course.
Apparently, Princess Gwendolyn was not only not allowed to
have friends, she wasn’t even allowed to miss the one friend she
used to have.
But now that Easton had pushed himself to the front of her
mind, he wasn’t easy to banish. She imagined the face of her lone
childhood friend among the courtiers who smiled and bowed at
her. She had to use her imagination because the last time she had
seen him he had been only thirteen—on the cusp of manhood,
but not yet with his adult face.
She had spent many solitary hours turning her memory of his
childish features into an imagined adult face, and now it was
haunting her. She should have listened to her mother and used
her time more productively.
Except the responsibilities that fell to the princess of the
mountain kingdom seemed to be universally dull. Her mother
liked to talk of her duty and the position she would one day hold,
but she never relinquished any actual power to Gwen. Any deci‐
sions of note or consequence were made by the queen, and if she
wanted to discuss them with someone, she always turned to one

22

TO RIDE THE WIND
of her courtiers, usually Count Oswin, the most senior of her
advisors. She would never ask Gwen’s opinion—the princess
wasn’t even permitted to accompany her while she conducted
royal business.
Which makes you wonder, what exactly is the point of it all? she
thought, not for the first time.
At least Gwen was circulating in the crowd now which meant
her mother was no longer looking in her direction with an
expression that managed to convey expectant pressure without
breaking a smile. Gwen had attended enough of these functions
that she’d long ago mastered the art of moving through the
crowd with an unhurried gait that still managed to convey a
sense of purpose and direction. Not that she actually had anyone
to seek out, of course. But looking as if she was moving toward a
goal reduced the false pleasantries she was forced to exchange
with people who would clearly rather have been talking to
someone else. Anyone else.
She could hear their desire to escape the conversation in their
strained voices and see it in the way their eyes darted to her
mother after every few words. Even when her mother wasn’t
physically present, Gwen felt her specter hovering over every
conversation she had with members of her mother’s court. It was
why she had long ago embraced solitude.
She passed a server circulating with a tray of drinks, and the
briefest flicker of a smile from the older woman lightened
Gwen’s steps. She needed to remember that she wasn’t entirely
alone. She might not be able to talk freely with any of the
courtiers, but they weren’t the only people in the palace.
As if summoned by her disobedient thoughts, Queen
Celandine appeared at Gwen’s side.
“Would you like a drink, my dear?” she asked with a false
smile.
Gwen gave a diffident response and accepted the drink her

23

MELANIE CELLIER
mother handed her. Why did the defiance in her mind never
manage to translate to her words? No matter what her mother
did, Gwen just went along with it, no matter how much she hated
her own compliance later.
How many angry speeches had she composed in her mind,
only to have them wither on her tongue? She tried to remember
the last time she had truly spoken her mind, only to wince. More
memories of Easton—and the worst sort this time.
She had never managed to entirely stop thinking of him, but
she always tried to avoid remembering those awful days after he
had disappeared. She had confronted her mother then, and the
punishment had been terrible.
Before that, her mother had responded to defiance by
confining Gwen to her room with only the barest of rations.
Gwen had quickly learned that continued defiance meant she
would be moved to smaller and smaller places of confinement
and given less and less food, so even back then she had usually
backed down quickly. But after the awful confrontation over

Easton’s disappearance, her mother had gone straight to a pitch-
dark closet so small Gwen couldn’t even lie flat, and she’d

provided no food or drink whatsoever.
Gwen had believed she would die in there and might have
done so if her mother hadn’t relented and sent her a single glass
of juice each evening starting from the second night. After
several days in the dark, her mother believed she had succeeded
in breaking Gwen’s spirit, and sometimes Gwen thought her
mother had been right. In the years since, she had certainly
always capitulated at the first stage. Being locked in her room
over a mealtime brought back too many memories of the closet
for her to brave further escalation of the punishment.
But still, hidden deep inside, she protected a small flame of
defiance. As long as it continued to burn, she could tell herself
that Easton’s Gwen still remained, not yet entirely subsumed by
her mother’s dutiful Princess Gwendolyn.
24

TO RIDE THE WIND
“You were late,” her mother said, again without breaking the
smile.
Gwen dared to give a small, audible sigh. Perhaps it was the
effect of the memories.
“Why must we always have the balls in the afternoon?” she
asked. “In the books I read, they happen at night. It would give
everyone more time to prepare if we had them later, and they
wouldn’t interfere with the day’s activities.”
Her mother’s eyes sharpened, and Gwen knew she had gone
too far. Talk about nighttime always brought out the edge.
But her mother’s response remained light. “But, my dear...”
She ran gentle fingers over the frothy blue material of Gwen’s
gown. “You look so beautiful. Everyone does. What a waste to
hide such magnificence in the darkness. You deserve to shine in
the afternoon sun.”
This time Gwen didn’t let her sigh sound aloud. “Of course,
Mother,” she said dully. “I wouldn’t want to prevent anyone
gazing on their beautiful princess.”
Her mother either didn’t pick up or chose to ignore her irony.
And when a courtier approached the queen, Gwen was able to
escape entirely, considering herself to have gotten away from the
interaction lightly.
Conversations such as those were the reason she couldn’t
indulge in thoughts of Easton. He had always brought out her
true self—had made her feel brave—and there was nothing
Queen Celandine hated more.
As soon as a small crowd gathered to talk to her mother,
Gwen allowed herself to escape to the fringes of the room. She
was tempted to hide behind one of the elaborate ice sculptures
that decorated the edges of the ballroom, but it was safer if she
remained in her mother’s view. The queen always watched her
most closely at this sort of event.
“I couldn’t risk bringing my mother, of course,” one of the
courtiers said to another, catching Gwen’s ear. “You know what

25

MELANIE CELLIER
she’s like these days. She can’t remember what she should or
shouldn’t say, and she keeps reminiscing about how things used
to be before we were all—” He cut himself off.
His companion tsked, shaking her head. “Poor woman. You
won’t be able to bring her anywhere the princess might be now.
Just imagine if she let the truth slip to Princess Gwendolyn! The
queen would throw you all to the bears.”
The original speaker winced. “One word on what has
happened to this kingdom, and I tremble to think of the conse‐
quences. No, Mother will have to stay safely at home from now
on.”
Gwen stared at them transfixed. She knew the courtiers were
uncomfortable speaking to her and that her mother was the
reason for their discomfort. But it had never occurred to her that
they might all be actively collaborating in keeping a secret from
her. Or was it more than one?
What did the courtiers know?
She almost started forward, questions trembling on the tip of
her tongue. But another courtier joined them, glancing at Gwen
as he did so and giving a small, formal bow. The movement made
the original two turn to look, expressions of horror transforming
their faces when they saw how close Gwen stood.
They hurried into their own bow and curtsy, exchanging
worried looks as they did so. Gwen attempted her warmest smile,
trying to convey that they need not fear her. If they told her their
secrets, she would never betray them to her mother.
Both of them responded to her expression, relaxing and
shooting each other relieved looks. But her momentary swell of
triumph died as they quickly turned back to their own small
circle. Her smile had achieved nothing except to convince them
she hadn’t overheard after all. And from the alacrity with which
they started another topic of conversation, she guessed they
would never again risk saying something so revealing inside the
palace walls.

26

TO RIDE THE WIND
As always, Gwen was left standing alone. But it felt different
this time.
She looked slowly around the ballroom, heat bubbling up
inside her. It started low in her belly and reached toward her
throat. She had always been alone in crowds like this, and she had
always wondered what was wrong with her to make it so. But
suddenly she saw the scene in a different light.
What if the problem had never been with her at all? She had
always known the palace held secrets, but she had never grasped
the magnitude of the deception. It wasn’t just the queen keeping
things from her daughter but a conspiracy by the entire court.
For so many people to keep a secret must have required a
concerted effort of extreme proportions. No wonder the
courtiers feared being caught in even a moment’s conversation
with her. They must have been living in fear of slipping up and
saying something revealing.
Gwen had thought herself incapable of connecting with the
people of her mother’s court, but the fault hadn’t been hers after
all. It had been the courtiers who were actively working together
to exclude her completely—from their friendships, their lives,
even their simple conversations. Gwen might have lived in the
palace and attended all the court events, but she existed in her
own bubble, firmly outside the court itself. It must have been the
only way to keep a secret so large.
She slowly turned to look toward her mother. She had no
doubt about who had orchestrated her exclusion. But why? What
was she hiding?
For a horrible moment, her stomach roiled as she wondered if
it was because of her weakness and failings. The queen didn’t
want the court to know about the depth of her heir’s flaws. But
the face of Easton, which had plagued her since her arrival,
flashed before her eyes again, and she stubbornly rejected the
thought. Easton would never have befriended her if she was so
terrible. Gwen might have faults, but she wasn’t such a shameful

27

MELANIE CELLIER
heir that the queen would be forced to such lengths. Whatever
secret lurked in the court, it was a secret being kept from Gwen,
not from the courtiers.
Her feet kept walking as her mind worked, considering many
things in a different light. Most of the courtiers had apartments
in the palace as well as homes in the city, but she rarely saw chil‐
dren within the palace walls. She had always assumed the
courtiers wanted to avoid bringing their youngsters to her moth‐
er’s attention until they were old enough to be properly trained
in respectful behavior. But perhaps they had a different reason
for keeping them in the city where Gwen wasn’t permitted to go.
Children were notoriously bad at keeping secrets.
And the same explanation might account for why she never
saw any of the mountain kingdom’s regular citizens. The palace
was surrounded by a large city, but of its many inhabitants, only
the courtiers ever visited the palace. Among her future subjects,
Gwen knew only the courtiers, and her mother’s guards and
servants who lived inside the palace itself. She had always
accepted that fact—initially because she was too wrapped up in
Easton to care about anyone else, and later because she knew it
would anger her mother to question anything. But the strange‐
ness of it burned in her mind now.
Had her mother excluded her subjects from the palace
because she feared what might happen if Gwen ever had a
conversation with someone not utterly loyal to the queen? Did
that mean Gwen was the only one of the mountain people not to
know her kingdom’s secrets?
The heat of fresh anger washed over her. What secret was so
important that her mother had completely isolated her in order
to keep it?
It’s because you’re too weak. It was her mother’s insidious voice
in her mind. You’re too weak to be trusted.
But again, another memory swooped in to override it. Come

28

TO RIDE THE WIND
on, you can do it! If I can do it, so can you! Easton’s youthful voice
was as clear as if he was speaking the words in her ear at that
moment. She could even picture his easy smile, and the challenge
in his eyes as he called her to match every feat of strength or
dexterity that he attempted in the castle corridors. Gwen had
sometimes doubted herself, but he had never done so.
Voices swirled around her, their words indistinct but alluring.
The ball, which had seemed unutterably dull only minutes before,
now sparked and fizzed. How many of the conversations hinted
at truths she didn’t know?
And most importantly of all—how was she going to uncover
those secrets? She felt almost as alive as she used to when she ran,
laughing, through the palace corridors, Easton always two steps
ahead, and Nanny waiting for them with hot chocolate and warm
cake. Discovering the conspiracy against her was the first step to
laying it bare.
But for all Gwen’s determination, and for all the conversa‐
tions she sidled close enough to overhear, she learned nothing of
note. No one else let any unwise words fall, and the topics that
occupied them seemed even more dull than usual. She heard
conversations about the weather—spring had started to reach the
lower valleys, but it would still be a while before winter released
their own vast basin, ensconced as it was by the deeper moun‐
tains. And she heard more than enough about who was dancing
with whom and what gowns everyone was wearing.
Frustration filled Gwen, unalleviated by the frequent
comments on her own beauty of both face and dress. It brought
her no comfort to know the people of her kingdom admired her
physical appearance even while they were afraid of speaking to
her.
For once, the end of the ball brought disappointment instead
of relief. ...