Read Fantasy of Frost (The Tainted Accords Book 1) Online
Authors: Kelly St Clare
There is silence again. For a long time. The King finally breaks it.
“Did he say anything? Before he died?” His voice is rough.
A single tear escapes my fury and trails down the side of my nose. I nod, but cannot talk.
“What?” he says, leaning forward once again.
“He said,” I try, but the words do not sound. I try once more. “He said, don’t cry.”
Tears pour down my face, I turn my face to the side, unable to respect Kedrick’s last wish. They drip underneath my veil into the front of my tunic. The King waves to the person next to him, an older, intelligent looking man.
“Had there been any prior indication you were in danger?” the man asks in a deep voice I instantly like.
I start to say no, but stop as a hidden memory surfaces. Frowning through my tears, I answer, “There had been a crack in the woods behind us in the days earlier. I had dismissed this as a fallen branch.”
I try to remember the positions we had been in that day. The memory has faded too much for me to be sure. I shake my head. “I do not know if this was the archer or not.”
The grey haired man nods. “Are there any on Osolis whom, you believe, may have been behind the attempt to kill you?” I do not answer, the time for the truth is over. Now I have to save my own skin.
I’m saved from lying and damned at the same time by Blaine.
“Her mother. You know I’m particularly good at perceiving relationships, King Jovan. The Tatum hates her,” he says in his nasal voice.
My teeth and fists clench at Blaine’s words. There goes my shot at convincing them to let me live so they can eventually ransom me back to Osolis.
All eyes are on me, waiting for a denial.
“Amongst others, yes,” I say in an even tone.
“You believe your mother would kill you?” the King finally speaks. He looks at me like a tree has sprouted from my face. Probably wondering what is so wrong with me my own mother would hate me.
“The Tatum’s a fucking bitch,” Sanjay says. I gasp at his language.
“
Sanjay,”
I admonish, twisting around to look at him.
“You know it is true,” he defends.
“Well...” I bite back a sudden bubble of laughter. “You still should not say so.” He just raises an eyebrow in response.
“How old are you child?” the older man speaks again. I turn back around to the front.
“I’m not a child. I am five revolutions and five rotations old. No, make that six revolutions now.” My birthday had occurred somewhere on the Oscala.
“Eighteen,” Malir translates.
“Yes,” I say. My shoulders hunch forward. It feels like we have been in here for hours. This talk of Kedrick is emotionally exhausting and I want it to be over. I don’t see what my age has to do with deciding if I should live or die.
The King is quiet, surveying the room, uninterested with our current topic. I wonder what he is thinking.
“I would like an explanation from the delegates as to why the Tatuma was taken hostage,” he says. I see Blaine stiffen to my left and I smile an evil smile, knowing better than to feel sorry for him by now.
“I thought the Prince had been t-targeted, my King,” Blaine stutters. I roll my eyes. “I thought it best for Glacium to have some leverage against Osolis in the case of war.”
I could not fault his reasoning. I may have done the same if in the same position.
“Did you not think by taking her, you would assure
a reaction from Osolis? Considering you were sent on a peace mission, I would hope this thought had crossed your mind,” the King says in the dangerous soft voice I had heard him use last night. Hope flares within me.
“Yes, my King, it had. But because her mother hates her, I thought it unlikely to eventuate into anything more,” Blaine answers. Ouch.
“Even if the Tatum hates her, I’m sure there are others who would push for her return. Other family perhaps.”
Malir interjects. “Her brother Olandon will. And she is much loved by the people of Osolis.” I twirl to look at him. I am?
“To anger the people is worse than to anger the ruler,” the King says. Again, I hear the threat masked in his musing tone. I can tell Blaine does, too, by how he pales and begins to babble.
“I thought she could be used as ransom.”
The King stands, fists on the table. “Would a mother that hates her be likely to pay for her return?”
“We could torture her for information on their armies and supplies,” Blaine blurts.
There is a roar of outrage from my companions and some of the King’s party also. The King holds up a hand. Everyone quiets as he speaks.
“The purpose of the treaty delegation is to maintain a peace with Osolis and to forge a stronger relationship between our worlds. It is something my brother strongly believed in.” He stands. “During your training for Osolis you were all present and would often hear his passion on this subject, would you not?”
I applaud Blaine’s survival instincts when he does not answer. The King starts a slow stroll around the outside of the table towards him.
“It is why I’m amazed you happened to forget this in the wake of his death,” he says casually as he strolls. “Not only have you jeopardised the tenuous peace between our worlds, you have disrespected my brother’s memories with your rash decision.”
The King has almost completed the circle. He stops behind Blaine who is visibly shaking.
“On top of that, you further appear to have disrespected him by convincing the others to capture someone, who, by all accounts, he seemed to be…fond of. With your gift for noting relationships, as you mentioned earlier, I would think it an unlikely oversight to have missed his growing relationship with the Tatuma.” The King stands directly behind Blaine now. Blaine’s quivering has turned to full shaking.
“You are suddenly quiet,” the King says. Blaine squeaks in reply.
“I didn’t think so.” He picks Blaine up by the neck and throws him towards the closed door. Blaine crashes into the wood, bouncing off onto the ground. I gasp at the King’s strength. He had thrown him as I would throw an apple.
“You will spend a year in the sixth sector. I do not want to hear of you, or see you until the assembly is in the second. Your family will remain here.” The King walks back around the circle and settles into his seat. Blaine scrambles up to his feet and wrenches the door open. His last look is for me and I quake a little at the hatred I see there. Another enemy
.
The door slams shut.
“As for the rest of the delegates, I’m disgusted you were so easily persuaded. It seems most of you realised your error on the journey, however, and for that I will be merciful. Leave us now,” the King says.
I half rise with them, uncertain if his order included me.
“Sit down,” he says. I narrow my eyes at the order, but do so. Slowly.
He does not speak again until the shame-faced delegates have left.
I fix on the King’s face. His lips are pursed in some small amusement. “You have commandeered most of those men.” The amusement is gone the next moment. He sits forward.
“I don’t want you to think I want you here, when your world was the death of my brother. If I could swap your life for his, I would do it tenfold.”
I nod. I would do the same.
“I also don’t think you have told us the whole truth.” I keep still, thinking about the shaft in my boot.
“As I have just demonstrated with Blaine, I will not disrespect the honour and bravery of my brother’s sacrifice by killing you. If it as you and the others say, Kedrick was fond of you. You can be assured I will not torture or kill you unless it is necessary.” He sits back, sprawling out his left leg. “If I find you have been dishonest in any way or are here for reasons other than what they appear to be, I will kill you myself.” I crack my eyes open in disbelief. He is going to let me go?
He surveys me with his hand splayed over his bottom lip.
“That blasted veil is a pain in the arse,” he says. My heartbeat picks up, but my panic is quenched as he continues talking. “You will stay here as a guest, until I decide what I will do with you. Do you understand?” he asks.
I narrow my eyes at him, he is talking to me as though I’m stupid.
His lips purse in amusement again, as if he knows what I am thinking.
The meeting has worked perfectly. I will stay, giving me time to find Kedrick’s killer. And I will live. I give a short nod.
The same guard escorts me out, minus the poking in the shoulder. The door is nearly closed, but I hear the King’s words clearly.
“Send two messengers to Osolis to convey news of the Tatuma’s safety. Tell the messengers to set the hawks up at the midway cave.”
The hawks! They were only brought out during war negotiations.
I struggle to recall my lessons on them, but can remember nothing except they save time by taking messages to the edge of the smoky barrier on Oscala. Instead of waiting two months to receive a reply to your message, you would get a reply in a month.
Was King Jovan trying to maintain peace? Or declaring war?
Over the next month I learn the term ‘guest’ differs in meaning on Glacium. The Bruma do not spit on me anymore, but I feel their hostility constantly. After an attack from a Bruma man as I walked to my room one evening, I was given a second guard. Life here is a far cry from my life before, where I never had any guards at all. Only people spying on me.
One of my delegates would always collect me for meals. The members of court were less likely to try and trip and push me when they were by me. I try to remind myself of the attitudes of Solati towards Bruma when my patience levels are low, and I want to punch the Bruma right between their eyes.
My arm is now yellow and much less swollen and it is confined by a new splint Adnan fashioned for me. I had been happy to get rid of the sling a week ago.
The Bruma were not all this way. I had met the wives of some of the delegates now. Fiona, Sanjay’s wife, was kind. She had been the one to leave fresh clothes in my room and Sadra, Malir’s wife, reminded me of the matron from the orphanage.
The food hall was also the perfect place to spy on the King. So far he had received one message by hawk, though I had no idea of the contents. The hawk had been beautiful; snow white with the biggest wings I had ever seen. When it had taken off, I had felt the power of them from my seat. I suppose it would need powerful wings to fly through all this snow and rain. Adnan explains they have some extra eyelid which protects their eyes, but still allows them to see. The hawk had risen to the ceiling and disappeared through some exit not visible from our table.
The King’s posture had become rigid as he read the message, which I didn’t take as a good sign. I was relieved, though, when I did not receive word I was to return home. So far I had not had any luck with finding the assassin. I needed more time.
I open the heavy door at the front of the castle. I had pretty much been allowed free reign of the castle, though I was told I was not allowed out of the gates.
I make my way down the massive steps into the courtyard, huddling to keep warm, but making sure to keep one hand on the wall as Malir told me to do so I don’t get lost in the blizzard. The white powder of the disturbed snow flies around us, penetrating even the thick fur of my coat. I will never get used to the cold here. Most of the time I feel like my bones themselves are frozen. I only come outside for one thing. To see Rhone’s dogs.
When Rhone is not away doing business for the King on the sleds, the dogs are kept here or in the kennels. There is a whining noise as I approach. I bend down to Leo, giggling as he raises one ear and tilts his head to the side. I reach out my good hand towards him. He sniffs at my hand and then licks it. I scratch him behind the ears where Rhone has taught me to, laughing as he moves his head side to side when he gets enough in the first spot.
I start as Rhone crouches down beside me, I had not heard his approach over the howling wind. He scratches Leo’s chest, not speaking.
“Are you taking the sled anywhere today?” I ask in a loud voice over the howling wind.
“No, too dangerous,” he says. “Not much to do until the King’s tour.”
I have learnt the dogs are one of the only topics Rhone will offer more than one syllable answers on. He spends much of his time on the sled transferring important people and various communication. I think it must be quite a lonely job.
Rhone was different than the others.
I had always noted it, but it had been even more noticeable since we had arrived on Glacium. Where the Castle Bruma would only slightly ease their bullying when I walked with the other delegates, no one even attempted to touch me when I was with Rhone. I wondered what he had done to earn this fearful respect.
I follow him back to the castle, keeping my hand on the wall again. Rhone walks with me to the huge hall where the Bruma eat. As usual, everyone turns to look and glare upon my arrival, but as expected no one dares to touch me when he is looming by my side.
I have found the assembly here to be different and similar at the same time. As on Osolis, the people who eat here are those who are connected to, or who are a person in a high position; ministers, advisors, important merchants. Unlike Osolis though, these people did not live in the castle and the only Bruma who seemed to stay here were high-ranking travellers, some of the King’s advisors, Rhone, and guards down in the barracks. The only mystery remaining, were the large number of females who seemed to stay somewhere in the castle, though they were always changing. Sometimes I would see a similar face, only to see a different face leaving the same room the next day.
Rhone continues walking and we stop at a table close to the throne platform where Malir, Sanjay and Adnan sit. The King is listening to someone talk on his left side. His eyes flick to me briefly. I have not had any more interaction with the King since the meeting room. I hope this continues.
“Morning,” Malir greets, shifting to the side so I can sit next to him.
“Good morning everyone,” I say and talk briefly to Fiona before approaching the table of food.
The food table stretches all the way down one wall and is piled with all kinds of strange edibles. It is another difference to the Osolis court. Here, there is communal food, you are not served. I still didn’t know what most of the food was. Roman had pointed me in the direction of a fruit he called a pear, saying it would be most similar to an apple. I had not known my eating habits were so noticed.
I have just grasped my pear from the groaning table when I’m shoved to the side by a huge body. Losing my feet and the pear, I protect my left arm, rolling over so the back of my shoulder hits the ground instead. I continue rolling to my feet, sinking into a defensive posture. Keeping a low profile is warranted, but I will protect myself.
I look back at the large man and scrunch my nose as his smell reaches me. Mostly, I have found Bruma stereotypes to be unfounded, but this man fits them perfectly.
“Move it Solati whore,” he snarls.
I don’t even have time to respond before a massive hand grips him around the throat.
“Gabel,” the King says in a casual tone. “Why are you harassing my guest?”
Unfortunately for Gabel, he mistakes this for a genuine inquiry.
“She killed Prince Kedrick,” Gabel chokes as the King squeezes a bit more.
He turns to face the assembly who are watching. Gabel follows him around, balancing on his tip toes. “I have seen the way you have all been treating our guest,” he says. “Might I remind you the Princess is a woman and half your size?” Gabel’s face is turning red. I do not dare look at the assembly for their reactions.
“Let me set you straight on the matter of my brother’s death,” he says, continuing to squeeze.
“Contrary to what you all apparently think, my brother sacrificed himself to save the Tatuma.” The room hushes.
He continues, “Do not make a mockery of his bravery, or of his sacrifice.” The King turns to me, I force myself to stay still.
“I apologise on their behalf. If I had been myself in recent weeks, the matter would have been cleared up before now.” I nod, distracted by the man still in his grasp.
Gabel’s face is now purple, his lips turning a blue tinge.
The King drops him to the floor and returns to his throne without a backwards look. Gabel curls into a ball on the ground, drawing air weakly into his lungs. I stare for a few seconds, then step over him to get another pear.
From that day on the tripping and shoving stop.
I’m in a deep sleep, as I always seem to be in this bed. I struggle to the surface as a loud crash sounds outside my door.
I listen intently as there is sudden silence. My door crashes open. I jump, trying to extract myself from the fur I am tangled up in. A huge shadow fills the doorway and I see the outline of my guards laying in a heap behind them. The shadow enters the room and slams the door closed.
I frantically pull out of the fur, putting a hand up to my veil. I hesitate when I notice my predicament. I have taken to sleeping without clothing on due to only having one set of clothing. I like to stay as clean as possible, which is made hard without the help of regular baths.
I compromise by wrapping the fur around me as I stand. I will fight naked if I have to.
“What do you want? Why are you in this room?” I ask, my voice direct.
The person swears, surprised. “Shit, you’re awake.” The voice is slurring, but I recognise it nonetheless.
“What are you doing in here, King Jovan?” I ask. He is acting strangely. His movements are clumsy. He takes several steps backwards during his walk towards the bed. I watch, my fear turning into confusion. He finally makes it to the seat at the end of the bed and collapses.
“Your room is huge,” he complains, huffing as though he has run uphill.
“You just beat up your own guards,” I say. This is beyond strange. I don’t know what to think, or if I should get him help.
He closes his eyes, a grin across his face. “Yep.” He sways on the seat while I hover next to the bed in the fur, uncertain.
“You’re ill. Do you need help?” I ask.
“Do I need help?” he repeats quietly. “I think I do.” I wonder if he knows he is talking aloud. I say nothing, my eyes still accustoming to the dark.
“Tell me of you and Kedrick,” he demands in a surprised voice like he has just remembered something important. I blink at his request. Is that why he’s here?
It had been weeks now and the King had shown no outward sign of grieving for Kedrick, apart from his comment in the food hall earlier. Considering his control when he first heard the news, though, I wouldn’t have imagined him as the sort to break down as I had.
I walk around to him and tilt my head to the side. I think King Jovan has finally lost control.
I look longingly towards the bed and sigh. This was not going to be a short visit.
The King watches, turning his head with my movement as I step around him to put beads on the fire. Once the fire is lit I prop myself up in the chair next to it and carefully tuck the fur under my legs. Where do I start?
“We were friends to begin with. It was my job to show him around the palace. We spent much time together, more than was required of us. We grew closer.” I shrug.
“Doing what?” King Jovan shouts.
“You don’t need to yell,” I reprimand.
“I wasn’t shouting,” he sulks, his head lolls back and thuds against the stone pillar behind him.
Rolling my eyes, I humour him. “To start, we would go on walks. Sometimes to the village or to the old lake, but often we would just walk through the outer meadow surrounding the palace. He would talk of Glacium; the people, the animals, the cold. And I helped him to understand Osolis.”
The King is completely still, rapt on every word. I realise he really just wants to hear about his brother and what he did in the time before his death.
“Things are very discreet on Osolis. Kedrick was like…a breath of fresh air after inhaling smoke. I quickly learnt of his honesty and good heart.” I smile. “It took me a little while to get used to his bold questions, but they became one of my favourite things about him.” I giggle at a memory and decide to share it with the King.
“Although, he occasionally got me in trouble for it. One time we were in the dining hall and he accidentally called me Lina. I thought for sure I would be -” My eyes widen at the words I almost let slip. I must still be half asleep. I hurry on. “It was very scandalous. I’m sure the court will gossip about it for years.” I shrug my right shoulder awkwardly and pull the fur up when it slips down.
Smiling, I remember how furious I had been at Kedrick. It seemed so trivial now.
“I was so mad at him at the time. But being mad at Kedrick for blurting out whatever is on his mind is like being angry at snow for being cold.” I laugh softly and hear it echoed by the King.
“He spoke often of you and Ashawn,” I say and poke at the fire a bit, though it does not need the attention.
“What did he say of me?” the King asks, leaving the seat and stumbling towards me, only to drop down heavily and sprawl in front of the fire. I wonder if he’s like this often and if the assembly is aware of his malady.
I smile, happy to relay what Kedrick had said of him. “He said you were his best friend, his advisor. That you had become his father, too, in recent years,” I say, turning my head away to give him some privacy as the King stills with my words.
The fire pops and crackles.
“They told me my brother loved you. Did you love him?” he asks softly.
“Yes,” I say, my heart giving a painful squeeze. It is something which has tortured me since Kedrick’s death. “I never told him,” I admit.
I wave my hand around the room. “Solati are much more conservative than your race. I was embarrassed to say it to him.” I clench both of my fists, the left hand does not close fully yet. “I regret it most bitterly. I hope he knew I loved him. That I love him still.”
“My brother was always confident with women. It would not occur to him that you would feel differently,” the King says. I crease my brow at his comment wondering what he meant. Kedrick had never seemed this way to me. He had been confident, but I had never found him arrogant.