Girls Made of Snow and Glass

by Melissa Bashardoust

  Lynet suffered through her lessons for the day, though her stitching was even worse than usual, and she kept forgetting the dates and names of Whitespring’s prior rulers that she was supposed to memorize. She was too occupied trying to decide what she would say to her father and imagining his reactions.

  He still wasn’t back later in the afternoon when her lessons were finished, so she went down to the workroom to see Nadia. She took her usual place, piling journals at one end of the table, but at this point, she was sure she knew as much as Master Jacob had known, and it still wasn’t enough. She kept fidgeting on her stool, flipping through the pages with a jittery restlessness. How soon until her father came back? How soon until she had to disappoint him? If she couldn’t convince him not to give her the South, would Mina believe that she had tried her hardest? Would she lose both of them?

  Firm hands came down over hers, stilling her frantic movements, and she looked up at Nadia, who was standing over her with a curious frown. “What’s wrong?” she said. It was the first time Nadia had touched her since the tower, and so Lynet knew she must be worried.

  Lynet didn’t want to deny that something was wrong. She couldn’t go to Mina this time, not when Mina was part of the problem—and she had no one else to confide in. “My father wants me to rule the South,” she blurted out, and then she told the rest.

  When she was finished, Nadia leaned an arm on the back of Lynet’s chair, thinking. “So your father wants you to take the South,” she said, “and your stepmother wants you to talk him out of it.”

  “Correct,” Lynet said, folding her hands in her lap and looking up as she waited for Nadia’s solution. Even with all her turmoil, part of her was just happy they were speaking to each other normally again. “What does the court surgeon suggest I do?”

  Nadia smiled a little. “The court surgeon recommends a dose of self-interest.”

  Lynet shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’ve told me what your father and stepmother want, but what about you?” Her hand moved from the back of the chair to rest on Lynet’s shoulder, and for a moment Lynet could only stare at it before her eyes traveled from Nadia’s hand up her arm to meet her waiting gaze. “What do you want?” Nadia continued, her voice a little lower than before.

  “I … I don’t know. I want them both to be happy,” Lynet said, her throat dry.

  Nadia removed her hand. “I mean, what do you want for your future?”

  Lynet didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to explain that she always tried not to think about her future, because when she looked into it, she couldn’t see herself anymore. In the end, it didn’t matter whether or not she took her father’s offer now—she would replace Mina and become queen eventually, and when she did, she would become her mother. That was her purpose, to resurrect the dead and die a little in the process.

  The itching under her skin was back, but this time just climbing out a window wouldn’t be enough.

  “Let’s run away,” she said, spinning around in her chair.

  Nadia laughed in surprise. “What?”

  Lynet stood, so that they would be face-to-face. “You want to go south to the university anyway, don’t you? Let’s go now, together.”

  She was flushed with excitement, practically rocking on her feet with the urge to go, to leave Whitespring and all her troubles behind. She didn’t understand why Nadia was frowning at her like that, why she was shaking her head.

  “You can’t just leave.”

  “Yes, I can. People do it all the time. Why is everyone else allowed to come and go as they please except for me? We can go to the university, just like you planned.”

  “No,” she said, and Lynet was startled by the harshness in her voice. Nadia seemed startled too, because she shook her head and added in a softer tone, “I mean … it’s a long journey, even a dangerous one. The roads aren’t always smooth, and there are thieves who hide in the woods. You’ve never even been outside the castle.”

  Lynet bristled as she understood Nadia’s meaning, her hands twisting at her skirt as she tried to keep composed. “You’re saying I’m not strong enough to survive outside Whitespring,” she said. “You don’t think of me any differently than the rest of them do. You think I’m too delicate to survive anything.”

  Nadia wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Lynet—” She was interrupted by a furious pounding at the door, and she ran to answer it while Lynet tried to make herself small and invisible.

  Nadia opened the door, and Lynet heard a man’s voice say, “You’re needed at once. The king’s had an accident.”

  14

  MINA

  “I want to ask you something,” Nicholas said.

  “Of course, my lord.” Mina tried to keep her voice low—a difficult task, since Lynet was splashing her hands in the freezing lake. Mina had been worried that he would try to avoid her after their tryst in the throne room, but soon afterward, he invited her on another lakeside stroll—with Lynet as chaperone, of course.

  “I’d like to invite you to dine with me tomorrow night, somewhere more private than the Great Hall.”

  Mina was glad he wasn’t watching her; she couldn’t help a satisfied smile. “I’d be honored, my lord.”

  He finally turned to her. “I don’t want you to be honored. I want you to be pleased.” His voice was gruff, but from the flicker of worry in his eye, he seemed genuinely concerned.

  Now Mina allowed him to see her smile. “I’d be pleased, then. I … I enjoy our time together.”

  “As do I,” he said. “And so does—”

  But he didn’t need to finish the sentence: his eyes went straight to Lynet, who was now nearly waist-deep in the lake.

  “Lynet!” he called. “Don’t go so far into the water!”

  Lynet stared at him for a moment, and then she went right back to splashing in the lake.

  “Lynet, I won’t ask again.”

  This time, Lynet ignored her father completely.

  Nicholas sighed. “She’s always testing her limits.” He went to retrieve his daughter, lifting her from the lakeside and carrying her away.

  Lynet didn’t respond well; she started thrashing like an angry cat, kicking her feet in protest as she tore at her own hair.

  Mina watched this entire display with fascination. Would Nicholas scold her for her disobedience? Would he punish her in front of Mina, or would he wait until later? What form would his anger at his daughter take?

  But Nicholas just laughed at her tantrum. It was the first time Mina remembered ever hearing him laugh, making it all the more unexpected. “My little bird is trying to fly away,” he said, tightening his hold on Lynet playfully, “but I know she wouldn’t want to make her father sad. Isn’t that right?”

  His words seemed to placate her, or maybe she was just exhausted from fighting so hard. She shook her head.

  “Well, then she should do what her father says. But first, she should give him a kiss.” He gave her his cheek, and Lynet pressed her lips against it noisily.

  Mina observed them with a growing resentment she didn’t understand. She hadn’t wanted to see Lynet punished, exactly, but now she kept wondering why. Why wasn’t he punishing her, when other fathers would? Why did Lynet deserve to have that luxury when so many others didn’t? But there was no reason; there was only Lynet’s squeal of delight and her father’s look of devotion as he set her down.

  “I think it’s time for you to go back inside anyway,” he said to Lynet. “I have to meet with the council shortly.”

  Lynet clutched her father’s leg and shook her head. “Stay.”

  “I can’t stay, and so neither can you,” he said fondly, ruffling her hair.

  “Mina can stay.”

  Father and daughter both looked at Mina at the same time, one uncertain, the other hopeful. Mina didn’t know how to answer—she didn’t want Nicholas to think she was overstepping her bounds, but if he decided to trust her with Lynet’s care, t
hat would speak a great deal to his opinion of her. “Only if you’d allow it, my lord,” she said. “I’d be happy to watch over her for a little longer and see her to her room.” The words slipped out so easily that she didn’t even wonder if they were true.

  Nicholas deliberated briefly, then nodded. “All right, Lynet, you can play a little longer, and then Mina will take you back inside.” As Lynet let out a high-pitched cheer and ran toward the trees, stumbling over her small feet, Nicholas said to Mina, “Not much longer, though. I don’t want her to tire herself.”

  Mina didn’t say that Lynet seemed to have enough energy to play for hours. “I’ll watch over her very carefully, my lord.”

  “I must go now,” Nicholas said. “But I’ll send someone for you tomorrow evening.”

  Yes, that was right—he had invited her to see him the next evening. “Until tomorrow, then, my lord,” she said.

  “You called me Nicholas last time we spoke,” he said softly. “I wish you would do so again.”

  “Until tomorrow, Nicholas,” Mina murmured.

  He watched her a moment longer, and then he stepped toward her and said, “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

  There was no foresight or guile when Mina smiled—she simply smiled because his words had made her happy. And even when he left, she was still happy. He had invited her to see him, not because Lynet had asked or because he felt duty-bound, but because he wanted to see her. He wanted her.

  Mina wandered closer to the garden to keep better watch over Lynet, who was running in circles around the trees and shouting to some invisible friend or enemy, Mina wasn’t sure which.

  Mina was tense, her arms crossed, ears ringing from Lynet’s shouting. Now that Nicholas was gone, she had no reason to pretend to herself that she wanted to watch over a spoiled child whose father never punished her for anything. How nice it must be for Lynet to live in a world where father was only ever a happy word, to play at fighting imaginary threats, because she had never known any real ones.

  And just as she was thinking that it was only a matter of time before Lynet’s perfect world shattered, she saw Lynet trip over one of the tree’s roots and tumble to the ground.

  Mina rushed toward her at once, hoping that Lynet hadn’t hurt herself in a way that would be apparent to her father. She kept waiting to hear Lynet cry or scream, but Lynet was silent, hugging her right leg close to her. “Let me see, Lynet,” Mina said, and Lynet stuck her leg out to show her the small scrape on her knee from the tree root. Her face was pinched, her lips quivering, but she still didn’t cry or make any sound. Mina didn’t understand it—she’d thought Lynet would be wailing by now, running to her father to fix all her problems—

  And then she realized—if Nicholas knew about this mishap, he probably wouldn’t allow her to play outside again for at least a week. Lynet must have already learned this during her few short years, and so she had trained herself not to cry or shout or show pain at all. Mina had come to consider Lynet a pampered, fragile creature, but now she remembered the way she had first found her, perched up in a tree, the king not there to keep her in check. Maybe Mina had been right to give her the name “wolf cub.” Maybe Lynet was more resilient than she looked.

  “Don’t worry, Lynet,” Mina said gently. “I won’t tell your father about this if you don’t want me to.” That was an instinct Mina could understand, something she could share with Lynet at last.

  Lynet seemed to relax now. She didn’t flinch when Mina cleaned her knee with snow, and when Mina suggested it was time to go back inside, she hopped to her feet and put her small hand in Mina’s.

  The two of them walked at a child’s pace back to the courtyard. Lynet rambled on, and Mina tried to follow her sudden changes in topic and her mumbled words. Among other things, Mina learned that Lynet hated wearing shoes and that one of her teeth was loose. But Mina was glad she had agreed to stay with her. Something about Lynet’s carefree youth made Whitespring seem a little less dour and gloomy.

  “Mina!”

  Mina’s hand tightened on Lynet’s when she heard Gregory’s voice behind them just as they were nearing the east wing entrance. She knew Nicholas wouldn’t want Gregory near Lynet—and Gregory should have known that too. So why was he taking such a risk in approaching them? Should she tell Lynet to go the rest of the way on her own?

  But now Gregory had already hurried across the courtyard to join them. Mina held tight to Lynet’s hand as he peered down at Lynet with great interest. Lynet, to her credit, was trying to hide behind Mina, away from his gaze.

  “She’s perfect,” Gregory breathed. “Do you know who I am, child? My name is Gregory.”

  “Lynet, do you know the rest of the way back?” Mina said, not taking her eyes off her father. She hadn’t considered that Gregory would have any interest in a child, but now she remembered that Lynet wasn’t just any child to him—she was his creation. So am I, she thought, but then again, she was a failure. Her bloodless heart was of no more interest to him than one of his sand mice. Lynet, though—Lynet was unique.

  “Yes,” Lynet said, her voice muffled by Mina’s dress.

  “Then I want you to go now. Go all the way back to your room and don’t stop. Can you do that?”

  Lynet didn’t bother to answer. She let go of Mina’s hand and scurried inside. Mina kept watching until she was safely out of view.

  When she turned back to Gregory, his eyes were still locked on the empty space where Lynet had been.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Mina said to him. “What if the king saw you?”

  There was a flash of anger in his eyes, but then it passed, and he nodded in concession. “It was reckless of me, I know. I wasn’t thinking. But I saw you both passing by, and I … I couldn’t resist the opportunity.”

  “She was scared of you, didn’t you see?” Mina said. She thought she would take pleasure in the wounded look on his face, but instead, she felt something closer to pain. She didn’t understand why she should be jealous, but all Mina could think was that he had never cared when she was scared of him.

  Gregory scratched his jaw, thinking. “Yes, she did seem frightened of me, didn’t she? I’m a stranger to her, thanks to the king.” His eyes narrowed with contempt. “Doesn’t it seem unfair to you that I should be a stranger to the girl I made with my own hands?”

  He continued to glare at the empty space in front of him, and Mina stared at her father’s profile with growing dread. “What do you want with her?” she said in a whisper. “Why is she so important to you?”

  Gregory shook his head at her, seemingly confused by the question. “Isn’t it natural that I should want to know her better? Any father would ask the same.”

  Mina decided she’d had enough of his sudden paternal feeling for someone else’s child, and she stormed across the courtyard, away from him. So this was another reason Gregory was so eager to see Mina be queen, why he had insisted on moving to Whitespring in the first place. He wanted Lynet. He wanted to be a father to Lynet. Let him have her, then, Mina decided. What did it matter to her?

  Still, when she returned to her rooms, she thought of Lynet’s tiny hand grasping hers, of the understanding they had shared over her scrape, and her harsh thoughts melted away. She remembered how scared Lynet had been of Gregory, and she wondered if the only real way to protect Lynet was to remove herself and her father from the girl’s life entirely. But was she willing to make that sacrifice?

  Mina pushed the thought aside and went to her bedroom; she had to decide what to wear tomorrow when she saw the king.

  15

  MINA

  At the appointed hour, a servant arrived at Mina’s room to take her to the king in his private dining room. She wore her hair loose, without any ornament. Tonight she would have no designs, no artifice. She would go to him as the young woman that she was, and she would prove without doubt that Nicholas could love her for herself.

  The servant led her to the end of a hall where two large
doors were flanked by the king’s guards, and Mina felt like a bride being taken to her husband. Soon, she thought. Soon it will come true.

  The guards opened the doors for her, and she floated over the threshold, only to be met with a ghost.

  But no, it couldn’t be a ghost, because ghosts were of the past and this was a vision of the future, of Lynet as a woman. On the opposite wall, above an enormous lit fireplace, was a large portrait of the dead queen. Even though she’d heard plenty of times about the resemblance between the princess and her mother—and even though she knew the real reason why—she hadn’t been prepared to see the truth of it with her own eyes. She felt she might suffocate under the pressure of this once and future ghost, this woman who was dead and yet alive.

  “Admiring my queen?” Nicholas asked.

  She’d been so startled by the portrait that she hadn’t noticed Nicholas standing at one end of a long banquet table in front of the fireplace. A hearty northern meal of venison awaited them at the table, and Mina briefly wondered if Felix had been the one to bring down this deer.

  “Good evening, Nicholas,” she said, ignoring his question.

  He held the chair out for her, waiting for her to take her seat before moving to his own at the other end of the table. They ate in near silence, with Mina commenting every so often on the meal, or Nicholas offering her more wine. All the while, Queen Emilia stared down at them, watching as they ate. Mina shifted in her seat, trying to put the portrait out of her view. Something was troubling the king tonight, but Mina didn’t know if it had anything to do with her. A king could have any number of reasons to be troubled, after all.

  When they were finished eating, Nicholas rose from the table and went to the fireplace, standing with his back to Mina, his hands clasped behind him. “You’re quiet tonight,” he said softly.