Frozen Reign

by Kathryn Purdie

I didn’t have her power, but she could latch on to my aura. And so I felt—as mightily as possible. My bravery after losing Pia. My resilience after almost dying. My fortitude after Sestra Mirna’s death. My love after remembering my mother.

  Stay courageous, Sonya, Sestra Mirna urged me. Stay strong.

  Valko seized my arm.

  Tears streaked down my face—from exertion, not terror.

  “Good-bye, my dear sovereign Auraseer.” His unadulterated hatred peaked.

  I didn’t let it scathe me. “I will not die. Not here. Not today.”

  His brow arched in defiance.

  “Now, Dasha!” I cried.

  I felt her energy turn outward as Valko swung with his dagger. But his driving force weakened with uncertainty. Dasha’s doing. I grabbed his arm and wrenched it to his side, then raised my own knife.

  Raging energy burned through me, but behind the fury was a white blaze of something nobler, something beautiful, something stronger.

  I stared at Valko in confusion. This couldn’t be his aura.

  Pain erupted inside me. Shock lashed like a whip. Valko jerked forward, his eyes bulging wide. His stunned gaze lowered to his stomach, where a blade pierced through him, dripping with blood.

  I didn’t understand. I was still holding my knife.

  He reached for me, but I recoiled. Unsupported, Valko’s body buckled, and he crashed to the ground.

  Just behind where he’d been standing was Anton, his hair fallen across his flushed brow.

  My grip went slack. My blade dropped in the snow.

  “Are you all right?” Anton asked, his face pale and stricken.

  “You’re here,” I gasped, seized by light-headedness. “How—how are you here?”

  Anton wasn’t in Estengarde. He stood right before me.

  And he had just stabbed his only brother.

  “I found Tosya.” He swallowed, his chest heaving for breath. My legs went weak with his distress as he looked down at Valko. “He helped me track you—to my old home, of all places.”

  I scanned the field beyond and found our regiment out there fighting Valko’s men and gaining the upper hand.

  “Where is the bounty hunter?” Anton asked me.

  “Dead.”

  He nodded, biting his quivering lip as he cast another glance at his brother.

  I couldn’t look, could barely stand, barely breathe. My chest ached, tangled between Anton’s sorrow and Valko’s dying energy.

  “Are you hurt?” He stepped closer to me, his brows hitched.

  I shook my head. The tender pulse of Anton’s concern made my throat tighten with emotion.

  “Sonya . . .” He cradled my face with his hand, and his aura flamed brighter. I trembled and closed my eyes. I hadn’t felt his love inside me for so long. I leaned my cheek into his palm, then caught myself and pulled away.

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t . . .” I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re married now.”

  Anton’s mouth creased into a frown. “Who told you I was married? I refused the alliance.”

  I blinked, even more unsteady on my feet. “But . . . you negotiated the release of the Esten Auraseers to bargain for the alliance.”

  “I did that for you,” he said gently. “King Léopold only agreed to let the Auraseers go out of desperation to make me change my mind. I refused to, even when he sequestered me in my room while you were forced to leave.”

  My brows lifted. “He locked you up?”

  “The king was mad with panic after Floquart’s death; he’d never had to threaten anyone on his own. Delphine finally persuaded him to let me go.”

  My brain worked sluggishly past my disbelief. “I don’t understand. You truly refused the alliance?”

  “We can’t win a war against inequality if we align ourselves with a bigoted nation. I was blind not to see that before.”

  “Then”—my chest tingled with cautious hope—“you’re not married?”

  The cast of Anton’s brown eyes grew warmer, more golden. He looked at me like we were alone together, not at the ruins of a desolate place and surrounded by death. He looked at me like I was his greatest treasure. “The only person I ever want to be married to is you, Sonya. I chose you . . .” He took my hands and kissed each one. “I will always choose you.”

  Radiant heat showered over me. Every space of my heart filled with light.

  Valko coughed—a horrible, strangled noise. The sound split my focus and latched me back to his aura. All my muscles seized, tensing with him.

  At once, Anton knelt at his brother’s side and gripped his shoulder. Valko stared up at him with dazed, livid eyes. Deep beneath his fury, threads of his regret knotted through my belly. “Congratulations, brother.” Blood gurgled from his mouth. “You . . . won.”

  Anton released a pained sigh. His wretchedness tore through me. “I’m sorry it had to end like this.”

  A spasm chased through Valko’s brows. His breaths came weakly, with great effort. He had the audacity to lift his chin, clinging to his pride until the very end. “You will answer to the gods for this.”

  “I know.” Anton bowed his head. “May they forgive us both.”

  Valko shuddered one last time. Then his eyes went stone still, and his head listed to the side. The candle of his aura snuffed out, forever gone.

  Only when he was dead did I finally pity him. His face looked as smooth as a clean slate, free of any traces of rage, demons, and regrets . . . even the heartache I’d witnessed so fleetingly during the time I had known him.

  I knelt at his other side and closed his eyes. “Be at peace,” I whispered to the innocent boy he once was, a child cast off by his parents to live in secret at the farthest edge of Riaznin. I reached for Anton’s hand over Valko’s lifeless body. “Be at peace,” I told him, too. “This had to be.”

  Dasha and Kira stumbled over to us, their arms wrapped around each other. Anton gave a hard swallow as he met his sister’s tearstained gaze. “I’m sorry,” he told her.

  A halo of snowflakes fluttered over Dasha’s head as she stared at Anton for a long moment, taking in the sincere and remorseful pulse of his aura, then her eyes lowered to Valko. Her voice was small when she replied, “I helped you do this.”

  “You did what was necessary,” he said.

  “You were very brave,” I added.

  Dasha sniffed. “Valko was bad. I knew that, but . . . I tried not to think about it.” She choked on a dry sob and shrugged a shoulder. “He was my brother.”

  A deep ache flowered in my throat and radiated Anton’s empathy. “He was my brother, too,” he replied. “As I am yours.”

  The snow swirled, the last few pops of musket fire rang out, and Dasha’s mouth trembled into the softest smile.

  The sweetest promise of peace.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  FOUR DAYS LATER, I GUIDED RAINA AROUND THE LAST BEND of the forest road. The convent appeared in the distance, perched on the crystalline snow. Dasha gasped in the saddle we shared. “Oh, Sonya. So many Auraseers are here!”

  I grinned, anxious to meet all the Esten girls and women again. “You can sense them from this far away?” Dasha’s ability never ceased to astonish me.

  She nodded, her aura bursting like a butterfly from a cocoon. “The convent hasn’t felt this full this since before the fire.”

  I kissed the top of her head. “It’s as it should be.”

  Tosya rode up to join us. Kira sat in his lap like Dasha sat in mine. Five soldiers trailed behind on their steeds, the last few members of our regiment. The rest had gone with Anton to Torchev after defeating Valko’s men at Montpanon. Before he had left, Anton sent a dispatch to the capital, announcing the former emperor was dead, then set off himself to settle matters there and confront Feliks for threatening me. Valko’s death meant the end of the Imperialist-Shenglin alliance, as well as the civil war. It meant our country had a fighting chance to unify and drive out the Shenglin and reclaim the res
t of our cities.

  Tosya brandished a hand at the convent. “And the sovereign Auraseer and the last princess of Riaznin found peace in Feya’s sanctuary,” he said in a dramatic orator’s tone. “How’s that for a last line?”

  I side-eyed him and smirked. “I think the Voice of Riaznin could do better.” Tosya had recently started writing a new poem, the third he hoped would be shared throughout our nation. It was about me and Dasha, how I’d exhausted every last measure of my power in my final stand against Valko, and now my power was gone—a tall tale, but I didn’t mind since it demoted me from being Riaznin’s all-powerful savior and excused Dasha for serving as Valko’s sinister counterpart. In Tosya’s poem, Dasha was an innocent child manipulated by Valko and saved by her loving brother Anton. “Those words make it sound like our lives are ending at the convent, when they’re just beginning.”

  Tosya huffed. “If you’re so particular, you should write your own verses.”

  His teasing undercurrent tickled the back of my neck. “I would never step on your toes like that.”

  “Good, I’m rather fond of my toes.” He flexed his boots in his stirrups. “I can hold a quill between them, you know. Probably write a whole sonnet that way.” Kira wrinkled her nose and giggled.

  We rode forward to the convent gate, and the soldiers standing guard let us in and took our horses to the stable. As soon as Dasha and Kira dismounted, they raced for the convent’s front doors, snow kicking in their wake.

  I linked elbows with Tosya and walked behind the girls. “When will you meet with your tribe?” I asked. Motshan’s caravan should have still been near the coast of Ormina, and Tosya needed to tell them of Ula’s offer to welcome them in Estengarde, though with the promise of peace in our nation, we hoped the Riaznian Romska would remain safe here.

  “Sometime in the next few days.” He gave a noncommittal shrug. “First I want to . . .” His voice trailed off, and a sudden shift in his aura made my stomach flip.

  I followed his gaze. A few feet away, Nadia emerged onto the porch and knelt by Dasha and Kira, wrapping her arms around them. The girls stiffened and exchanged bewildered glances. Neither one had spent time with Nadia since before the convent fire, and she’d never been affectionate. As soon as she let them go, they darted inside. Her shoulders shook with a little laughter, and then her jade eyes turned to us. She nodded at me, a sort of obligatory hello, but when she looked at Tosya, she blinked softly and her cheeks, already pink from the cold, flushed to a deeper rose. She drew her shawl around her shoulders and stepped back as we joined her on the porch. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized my heartbeat fluttered, reacting to the energy pulsing off of her.

  “You’re emitting aura?” I asked on an amazed breath.

  “So I’m told,” she replied, then cocked a brow. “Wait . . . you’re feeling it?”

  I spread out my arms. “Surprise.”

  “What else did you learn while you were away?”

  “I can’t alter anyone’s emotions, if that’s what you’re hinting at. I’m just a regular Auraseer now.”

  “Regular.” Nadia sighed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  Oh. Nadia couldn’t sense other people. “Well, that part came last,” I said. “Valko’s aura was the first I felt, actually.” I shivered as the wintry air bit through my cloak. “I’m not sure why . . . maybe because his was the last one I sensed before I lost my ability.” Or maybe because Valko’s aura had always been a dark beacon to me, one I felt stronger than any other. “Perhaps I had to relive a spark of trauma to make my awareness wake up. So there’s hope for you yet.”

  “Wonderful.” Nadia pressed her lips in a wry line. “I’ll lock myself in the east wing and you can throw burning matches at me.”

  Tosya snorted, and I leveled a glare on him. He sheepishly tugged on his cap.

  As Nadia’s gaze lingered on him, the sharpest edges of her aura sanded away. Her mouth curved slightly, and Tosya responded by going completely red in the face. “I can’t believe you’re alive,” she said. “Both of you,” she added, flinging a brief glance at me. “And Valko is really dead.” She’d heard the news already. Anton had sent a dispatch from Montpanon to Ormina, as well. “The convent truly has a chance to become a place of refuge and learning now.”

  “And not a prison for the next sovereign Auraseers,” I felt compelled to add. “It will be the haven Sestra Mirna desired it to be.”

  Nadia tilted her head in contemplation. She couldn’t sense the pulse of my aura, but I hoped she could read the willingness on my face to make peace with her. “Would you like to see what I’ve been doing while you were away?” she asked.

  I grinned, my heart already pounding from the many Auraseers inside the convent. “Yes, please.”

  Lara, Muriella, Camille, Basina, Giliana, Roselle, Éloise, Jessamyn, Aveline, Clémence, Violette, Chantal, Emelisse, Secile, and Isabeau. Within a few short minutes, I had greeted all fifteen Esten Auraseers. And there were others—six Riaznian Auraseers Nadia had found with the help of Sestra Mirna’s journal: a bronze-skinned woman named Tamryn; twins a little older than me, Ilona and Irina; Neva and Anya, young cousins whose great-grandmother was an Auraseer; and Mei, who had a Riaznian father and a Shenglin mother. Twenty-five Auraseers in total, including Nadia, Dasha, Kira, and me. Heat radiated through my chest to see every wing of the convent in use. I couldn’t believe this place had been almost empty a few weeks ago.

  “They’re helping me complete their genealogies,” Nadia said, nodding at Tamryn, who sat in the library and drew out her family tree. “We hope to find many other girls and women, and I haven’t even heard back from all the letters I sent out. I plan to—” She was interrupted by nine-year-old Anya tugging on her skirt.

  “Sestra Nadia, Sestra Nadia,” the girl said, bouncing on her toes.

  My brows darted up. “Sestra Nadia?”

  Nadia pulled in a deep breath, her energy emitting both embarrassment and pride. “Some of the Auraseers have taken to calling me that.”

  “It suits you,” Tosya replied. When Nadia’s forehead crinkled, he was quick to add, “It has an elegant ring.” That made her smile, and she stood a little taller.

  “When can we tell her?” Anya whispered to Nadia.

  “Tell me what?” I asked, noting the girl’s enthusiasm warring with her instinct to be covert. Between the two sentiments, I wanted to dance and hide at the same time.

  Nadia put her hands on her hips. “Do I feel ready to tell her?”

  Anya fidgeted with the ends of her braids. “Um . . . yes?”

  Nadia gave her a pointed look.

  “No?” Anya guessed again.

  Nadia released an exasperated sigh. “By the end of tomorrow you’re going to learn the difference between anticipation and readiness or you won’t get supper.”

  That didn’t seem to faze Anya. “So can we tell her now?”

  Glancing up at the ceiling, Nadia shook her head. “I suppose, since the surprise is now spoiled.”

  Anya squealed and clapped her hands. “She’s in the kitchen. We told her she couldn’t come out yet.”

  “Who is in the kitchen?” I frowned at Nadia.

  Her mouth lifted in the corner. “Go and see for yourself.”

  Warily, I made my way there with Nadia, Anya, and a train of Auraseers following. When I came to the door, Dasha’s and Kira’s distinct auras emanated from within, as well as another I’d never felt before. She must be an Auraseer, though; her energy had that certain resonance that only came from those with our abilities.

  I turned the latch and peered around the door at the table.

  I drew in a startled breath. Palpitations skipped across my chest. I stood speechless, blinking in disbelief.

  She wore a daffodil-yellow Esten dress that brought a touch of springtime to winter. Her autumn-brown shawl matched her lovely eyes. Much of the black dye had faded from her hair, and it now gleamed in mahogany waves. Her mouth dimpled at the corner w
hen she saw me. My throat closed when I tried to say her name.

  Genevie.

  She set down her steaming mug and rose from where she had been sitting next to Dasha and Kira. “I feared I would never see you again,” she said, her aura glowing with tender happiness.

  My eyes burned as I rushed over and threw my arms around her. “You’re alive!”

  She squeezed me back, her joy spilling over into laughter. “Thanks to Delphine.”

  “Delphine?” My amazement doubled. “She convinced King Léopold to set you free?”

  “He didn’t set me free.” Genevie pulled back and coyly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Delphine helped me escape the day before my execution. She flirted with a young guard and offered him expensive jewelry until he agreed to assist her. When we staged my escape, we pretended he was smitten with me, instead of her, so it looked like the two of us had run off together.”

  I raised my brows, impressed. “Now all we have to do is pray the king doesn’t send any bounty hunters.”

  “Delphine promised her uncle is done bothering with Auraseers, which means others might have a greater chance to leave Estengarde, if they want to. Delphine said she will work with Madame Perle to help them.”

  I shook my head in astonishment. I never imagined I’d feel such affection for the king’s niece. I wished Delphine were here so I could thank her in person. “We may need to build another wing on the convent.”

  “We may need more sestras,” Nadia quipped from behind me.

  Genevie’s smile lit up her face. “I am more than willing.”

  Three weeks later, I walked across the convent grounds, taking a quiet moment to be alone. While I delighted in having the convent so full, I was still learning to acclimate myself to being encompassed by so many auras.

  I breathed in deeply and took in the beautiful scenery around me. Snow sifted through the air and settled over the landscape like dusting sugar on gingerbread. Winter had decided it was here to stay, despite the pleadings of autumn. I didn’t mind. Winter brought a hushed sense of peace that Riaznin desperately needed.

  The sound of sleigh bells drew my attention to the road beyond the gate. Around the bend, gliding through the snow, came a brightly painted troika. I focused on the driver, the only person inside, and I broke into a wide smile.