Frost (18 page)

Lady Edda flinched when the queen raised her voice, and for the first time, she looked frightened.

Queen Eira placed her hands behind her back, and her mouth firmed into a thin line of displeasure. "Listen well. This is Amora. She is my own. I treat her as my daughter. This girl"—she gestured at Charlotte—"is to be treated with as much respect as you give Amora." She turned on Lady Edda, her eyes blazing as she leaned closer, and the woman seemed to wilt, cowering back. "And you have shown none."

“Your Highness…” Lady Edda faltered as the queen leaned in close, staring first at her and then at her guard boyfriend.

“Ah, yes. You two. All the gossip and rumors of royalty dating a mere dungeon guard.” Queen Eira’s smile was poisonous, and the guard holding Lady Edda flinched, his face going pale. “I have an idea. Why don’t we send her down to you? You can watch her rot in a cell for a few years. Poetic justice, some might say.”

She snapped upright and flicked one hand imperiously. "Take her away."

Shock tore through me, echoed by a ripple of panic that spread through the crowd. Someone in the back wailed, but the sound was quickly stifled.

On the steps beside me, Lady Edda cried out, clutching her hands to her breast, and Finn looked stricken. He clutched her arm, his face porcelain white.

I gasped. "Wait!"

Queen Eira paused. The full weight of her gaze felt like a blanket of snow settling over me, cold and heavy. "Amora, you have something to say?"

My mind raced. What did I have to say? I hadn't thought that far. But I couldn't let Edda sit in a cell for years, even if she was a total bitch. Honestly, it was hard to feel any sympathy for her, since she`d gone back to muttering darkly about this being over a mere servant.

A servant… An idea slowly formed through my pounding headache.

"Can I suggest a better punishment?”

Queen Eira raised one eyebrow, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her red mouth. "Pray, tell us."

I swept my hand toward Charlotte. "Lady Edda scorned my friend as a servant. Let her be one. Dress her as one. Treat her as one." I faced Lady Edda, who looked horrified and confused. "Let her become what she so clearly despises."

There was silence in the throne room, so complete that the faint trickle of the fountain could be heard from the courtyard. The queen stared at me for what seemed like eternity. Then, to my shock, she tilted her head back and laughed. The listening crowd joined in with a low murmur of amusement.               

Lady Edda's cheeks glowed, but the guard clutching her arm looked relieved, color rushing back into his face as his shoulders sagged.

The queen spread her arms. "Poetic justice, indeed! Now she can date her dungeon guard lover with no scandal at all. Let it be as Amora proclaims." She flicked a hand at the guards. "Take her away. Leave me with my daughter."

The guards marched for the door, dragging the distraught Lady Edda with them.

To my disbelief, she continued to whine and cry. Anyone else would have been grateful to have so narrowly missed a jail sentence, but apparently, not Lady Edda.

Queen Eira smiled at me. "Come, child. We'll take tea. I have many things I wish to discuss with you." The second she stepped forward, three servants moved at lightning speed to carry her fur train and clear the crowd in front of her.

I trailed after them, down the aisle formed by the jotun, who bowed low as the queen passed, only standing straight after she was several feet beyond them. It was strange to watch an entire crowd of frost jotun bowing and scraping, and as I followed in her wake, I could almost pretend they were bowing to me.

And after the scornful way they had all looked at me, I had to admit that
it felt pretty good.

Chapter Twenty-Three
We came to a split in the passage before us, and the queen led us to the right, the servants struggling to keep up with her and carry her heavy fur train. The procession stopped at a high-arched doorway and the queen turned, flicking a hand in dismissal. "Go get fresh tea ready for us."

The servants bowed and backed away, skirting around me.

"Come, dear. I'll show you the parlor."

I followed Queen Eira into the spacious, high-ceilinged room. It was about half the size of the training room yet still astonishingly huge for a parlor. The icy walls were decorated with colorful, woven tapestries depicting pale warriors in battle against menacing, dark figures.

I moved closer, studying the pale warriors, who had been made to look almost angelic. The dark ones, on the other hand, had twisted, monstrous faces.

The queen sat down on the sofa, her skirts rustling. "I see you admire the weaving. Beautiful work, is it not?"

I nodded and made appreciative noises in my throat. It was pretty awful, actually.

"These are all depictions of the great battle. There were so many lives lost, including my daughter, Amora."

I held my breath. Would she tell me about Amora now? I had a million questions. What had she been like? How had she died? But the open grief on the queen's face gave me pause. She didn't seem one to indulge in a lot of emotions, so it obviously still affected her deeply.

"The fire giants took my daughter from me." Her voice trembled, and one gloved hand gripped the surface of her skirts, twisting the fabric as she spoke. "That's why you and your friends are here.” She looked up, and her gaze softened. “Why
you
are so important."

"Why?" My voice was barely audible.

The queen beckoned at the row of seats in front of her, and I chose a straight-backed chair directly across from her.

"I'm going to tell you something," she said, her voice low and urgent. "Something  you must not tell anyone. Not yet. Not unless I tell you to." Her face went cold. "Especially my son. Leif mustn't know until the time is right."

I leaned forward in my chair.

"When I sent our men to breed with the humans, I sent my husband, the late king, with them." She shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "He was ill. We both knew he wouldn't live long. I'd already had Leif then, by a different man—a lover. But I knew of my son’s temper. His rashness. I wasn't content to leave my kingdom to him. I needed another heir, but by then...I was barren. So, before my king died, he mated with a human woman. For the kingdom. For me."

My pulse was throbbing in my neck, in my fingertips. "You mean..."

Queen Eira nodded. "Your mother."

The room spun. I sat back in the chair, trying to catch my breath. "I don't...I can't..."

Queen Eira leaned forward and clasped my hand. Again, I marveled at how cold her skin felt. Her fingers were long and thin but surprisingly strong.

"I know it's hard to wrap your mind around, Amora, but you will. You are home now.”               Even though her eyes were on mine, they were distant. She wasn't really seeing me anymore. I’d become her dead daughter.

Swallowing hard, I nodded, not daring to contradict her. Her eyes, which had seemed mesmerizing back in the throne room, frightened me. They were a little too glassy and wild-looking. Maybe years of mourning her daughter had cracked her icy exterior and allowed insanity to creep in.

She let my hands go, and the light in her eyes faded a little. She blinked and pressed one thin, white hand to her forehead. Then she sat ramrod straight on the sofa, her gaze fixed on me again.

"Saturday morning, one of the servants will come for you. We will have a presentation ceremony in the great hall. And I have given orders for your training to begin the day after."

"Training?"

She smiled, a small, tight expression. "Your swordsmanship, of course. You will report to the training room Sunday morning. Leif will be waiting for you."

"Leif..." A hard knot of dread formed in my chest.

Leif was going to train me to fight? He seemed more likely to stab me with a sword when I wasn't looking. "I don't think... I don't think he likes me."

The queen's expression was hard. There would be no arguing with her. "He'll simply have to control his emotions." She waved her hand.

I clenched my jaw shut tightly. Sure, Prince Leif would be okay. But would I?

Queen Eira brushed one finger over my cheek, startling me. "You look so much like her, blood of my blood. I'm so glad you're finally here." She stood, and her fur cape slid off the sofa and pooled on the floor. "You may go now, child. I will see you in the morning."

A clear dismissal.

I hesitantly thanked her, not sure if I was supposed to bow or not, and then made my way out of the room. After closing the door, I leaned against it for a minute, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to control my queasy stomach. It was just training. It wasn't like we’d be using real swords. He was supposed to teach me, not hurt me. How bad could it be?

~ * ~

I got lost a few times on the way to my room, but when I finally found it, I shoved the door open to find Charlotte and Erik sitting on the bed. I paused, surprised.

“Hey, Megan!" Erik propped himself up on his elbows. “How did it go?”

I forced a smile and entered the room. They were on opposite sides of the bed. Just talking, probably. Besides, even if I'd come in and found him on
top
of her, what did I care? I tried to tell myself that I hadn’t gotten a surge of jealousy from thinking about that.

"It was fine. The queen..." I pulled up short, realizing I couldn't tell them exactly what I was bursting to. The queen had just said not to tell anyone.

"The queen what?" Erik raised his eyebrows. "What did she say?"

I narrowed my eyes. "You never told me I would have to train with swords.” Now that I thought about it, anger prickled in my chest. Somehow, he’d failed to mention that in the sandwich shop, along with the whole Amora thing. What else was he holding back?

Erik shifted on the bed, his smile fading. “I wasn’t sure what the queen had in mind. But honestly, it’s just tradition. The lessons should be pretty easy.”

“I have to train with Prince Leif." The dread still felt like a rock in my stomach.

Erik pulled a face. "Oh, that prick."

He looked so disgusted that I couldn't help grinning, in spite of my churning stomach. "That's pretty much how I would describe him."

Charlotte folded her hands under her chin like she was praying, rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, and did a perfect impression of Amy. "But he's
so
hot. Isn't he hot?"

I laughed and climbed onto the bed beside her. "He
is
good looking, but I think his level of douche-baggery outweighs his hotness factor."

Erik wrinkled his nose, which made him look kind of cute. "You actually think he's hot?"

"His features
are
perfectly symmetrical," Charlotte said.

"I'd like to punch the symmetrical right out of them," Erik said. "I hate that guy."

Charlotte's eyes shone, and she poked him in the arm, laughing. "I've never seen you mad. What did he do to you?"

"Nothing to me. He trains the younger jotun soldiers, and he's very harsh with them."

I fidgeted with the hem of my dress. "I'm sort of nervous. Do you think he'll try anything?"

"I don't think so.” Erik rubbed his chin, the crease between his brows deepening “At least, it would be foolish of him. You're clearly the queen's favorite. "

"Yeah." I picked at the bedspread in front of me. "That's why I'm worried. He wasn't too happy to meet me. Told me I would never be his sister."

Erik's eyes widened. "He’s already talked to you?"

"In the lounge, when Charlotte and I went with the other girls. He was a real treat."

"He was a dick." Charlotte frowned and bit her lip.

I could tell she was thinking about the names he'd called her. I pictured going to training tomorrow and ripping Prince Leif’s throat out with my bare hands.

"It's okay, Charlotte," I said, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. "He's an idiot."

Erik glanced from me to Charlotte, his brow creased with irritation. "Obviously he said something to you guys. If he tries anything during training, let me know. I have the queen's ear. Believe it or not, she doesn't hold her bastard son in the highest regard."

I believed it. Remembering what Queen Eira had said about him being rash...about needing a new heir.

Oh...God.
It hadn't sunk in until now. I'd been so caught up with learning the identity of my real father that I hadn't fully processed what she'd said. The word
heir
meant that, after she died, she expected me to take her place.

It seemed surreal. I flopped back onto the comforter and stared at the canvas fabric of the canopy. Maybe that wasn’t actually what she meant. Maybe I’d misinterpreted things.

"Are you okay?" Charlotte leaned over me, frowning. "You're super pale. Don't be nervous. It's not like he's allowed to hurt you."

"He won't," Erik said gruffly. "He's stupid, but he's not that stupid."

"I know," I mumbled. "It's just the thought."

It felt strange to lie to them, but I couldn't tell them what I was really freaking out about. Queen Eira had stressed that our entire conversation needed to be a secret. Every time I thought about telling them, I would picture her mad, glittering eyes and the words dried up on my tongue.

Somehow, it seemed like she would know if I spilled her secrets.

Charlotte stretched a hand out and started playing with my hair, remarking idly about how white it had gotten, which set Erik on a long explanation about genetics and how frost jotun traits could take as they grew. I shut my eyes and listened. It was all interesting information, stuff that applied directly to me. So I should have paid closer attention. But my mind was whirling, thinking about training, trying to ignore the nervous butterflies in my stomach. Thinking about Queen Eira and her king. My real father.

Did she seriously expect me to inherit her kingdom one day? Maybe that was why she wanted to train me. So I could prove myself. Was I supposed to sit on some giant ice cube throne and yell, "Off with their heads"? I didn't think I could do that. I wasn't capable of it.