The First Page of the Novel by Maria Kovalenko

Hetgard, the capital of Snowland, rose above the Pale Valley.
The black fortress for many years was a symbol of inviolability and strength, because no enemy could capture it, nothing could destroy it. Centuries passed, the kings ascended the throne and left, but Hetgard is all worth it; Unshakable, like the mountains  Nevenchir and beautiful, like the valley in front of him, drowned in white heather.
The soldiers approached the gates of the fortress. While the guards opened the heavy gate, Idvar looked at his house with a sinking heart. Ten years ago, the boy was sent by his father to Rainsworth to make friends with the prince. Idvar knew that someday he would take his father's place and become an advisor to the king. For this he studied with the prince, hunted with him and was ready to defend with the price of his own life.
They drove into the fortress and the people began to converge to look at the new king. Markhit seemed to be happy. In the best armor on the stallion, the prince came to his city.    
The sun carefully launched its golden hairs into the castle.  Outside the window there was a noise from the square: shouts, songs, swearing, arguments, confessions, curses and promises. Idvar was  sitting by the window and looked at the morning city. Markhit was bored with jewels.
- So sunny and warm ... It's only a couple of weeks before the winter solstice, - Idvar sighed.
- Well, all right, - said the prince,  - I prefer warm weather.
Idvar missed  the snow.
- It was always warm in Rainsworth. I grew up there, and I will get used to frost for a long time, - frowned Markhit.
- I'm sure you'll like the cold beauty of the north, -  Idvar said.
-Do you remember what fun days were there? Hunting, running away from lessons ... And now only cold walls and boredom ... Do you remember the summer holiday? I then played Emperor Orbia, and Princess Alaria played my Empress ...
The prince had long talked about the wondrous beauty of Alaria, about her beautiful eyes, like the starry sky, and about the golden hair of the sun, Such serious interest disturbed Idvar.
-If you will say  even a word  about the princess, I'll think you fell in love, - the young man softly laughed .
-And if so? -Markhit asked quietly.  -What if I really love her?
- Well, you cannot take her as your wife. After all, not one King of Snowland chose a stranger, especially from Astilia. All the Jarls would be against it. So you'll have to forget about your golden-haired princess,  - Idvar finished with a smile and looked at the prince.
Markhit did not smile. He only looked at his friend and was silent. Idvar was concerned about this.
-What happened, Markhit?
- I made a decision ... and I want Alaria to become my queen, -  the prince finally said.
- Markhit, you know that this is impossible!
-You can not change anything, Idvar. Tomorrow she will come here, - the future king said calmly.
Idvar was horrified.
-What did you do, Markhit ...