Forever Frost (Bitter Frost, #2)

by Kailin Gow

  “You, my dear guests,” said the Queen. “May stay the night – yes, you as well, Rodney. And you will come to the ball.”

  Shasta gave me a weak smile.

  “I would be honored to follow your requests in all things, your Highness,” I said, curtseying deeply. Perhaps I was learning to speak like fairy royalty after all.

  Chapter 11

  Before the celebration feast was to begin, we were given a few hours to rest, relax, and perhaps most importantly, to bathe. I had not had access to running water since the palace of the Summer Court, and I smelled precisely like I'd been trekking through the wilderness for a week and battling Pixies – I could still smell the moat on me, the dolphins. How had Logan managed to kiss me when I was quite so disgusting, I wondered half-heartedly as I soaked myself in an enormous bathtub, scrubbing every last bit of dirt out of my hair and skin. His devotion touched me, even as it made me wary.

  My mother, for her part, seemed entirely at ease in the guest room to which we were assigned – chiding me for leaving my clothes on the floor and for not having folded them. They were so caked and crusted with mud that for my part I would have been happy to never see them again – and paced the room while I bathed – I could see her silhouette going back and forth from behind the changing-screen that divided my bath from the rest of the room.

  When at last I had scrubbed every trace of dust and grime from my body, I wrapped myself in a blue silk dressing gown and sat down next to my mother.

  I couldn't help it; I started crying.

  I had been fighting so long and so hard for so long – I had risked being the bride of a pixie king, risked death and kidnapping and war and creatures in the Summer Queen's dungeons – and seeing her sitting there before me, as kind and beautiful as she had ever been, filled me with tender sadness, and made me realize precisely how tired I had been.

  “Mommy,” I murmured into her shoulder. I wondered what the Winter Queen would think of me – acting like a child, an immature child who needed to be saved. Shasta surely was given no such luxury on her return. But it felt good to be sixteen again, to relax for just a while as my mother stroked my hair and wrapped her arms around me.

  “I'm so sorry, Bree darling,” she said. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

  I didn't have the strength to be angry at her for that.

  “Mommy,” I whispered again.

  “Listen, Bree,” said my mother, taking my hands in hers. “I want to tell you everything – okay? Do you want to listen? Or do you want to sleep?”

  “No,” I said. “I want to know.”

  She kissed my forehead. “I came to Feyland because I knew the Winter Queen was looking for you. I knew giving myself up as a hostage would stop the Queen from looking for you. I understand what a mother is going through – I knew I would not be harmed. She may be a fearsome ruler, but she is a wise and kind one – and she does love her daughter very much. When you are older, perhaps, you will understand that; I know she does not make it as clear as I might. But that is the Fairy way.” She laughed darkly. “That has always been the Fairy way. But then the Winter Prince came to find you...”

  “He was kind!” I said. “You don't have to worry about that.”

  “I am worried about that,” said my mother. “But not because he is the Winter Prince.” She smiled. “But rather because he is the first...and the first love is something special.”

  “Was my father your first love?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “No – not the first. I went to college – studied art – met lots of boys. Even fell in love with some of them. But when I was a senior, I met someone strange – someone different. A student in my arts class. And his paintings were so magical, so beautiful – so different – that I felt that he must be possessed of a special genius, to be able to see a universe so alive with beauty, to imagine it.

  “As it turns out, he was painting from memory. So – maybe he wasn't so much of a genius after all. But he was talented.” She stroked my hair. “And you, Bree, have inherited that talent.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Well – in the Fairy kingdom he was known as Foxflame. But of course when he snuck into the mortal realm to go flirt with mortal women, he went by another name. He called himself Frank.”

  “Frank Foxflame,” I said.

  “Quite a contrast. Now, he'd dated lots of mortal girls – Frank was known as a bit of a womanizer. But then he and I met...and it was different, with us. We fell in love. And after we'd been dating for about six months Frank told me his secret. He was a fairy – and not only a fairy, but in fact the younger son of the Fairy Queen of the Summer Court! And life was carefree and wonderful with us. As a fairy prince, he had few expectations on him – he wasn't the Crown Prince, after all – and after the initial surprise I grew to love Feyland – because I loved him.

  “Feyland was different in those days, Bree. It was softer – kinder. And as an artist, I found that my ability to paint and dream and create beautiful things was immeasurably increased by the time I spent there. But then Frank's brother – his older brother, the Crown Prince – was killed by the Pixies, and Frank had to become king.

  “This meant marrying his brother's fiancée Redleaf of Autumn – the Autumn Kingdom had recently become a vassal of Summer, and having Redleaf as Summer Queen would help to keep that peace. I encouraged him to do it. It was only an arranged marriage, we thought. He was not required to love her.

  “But we were selfish, Bree. We forgot one thing. And that was the chance that she might love him. We never realized it – we thought...we thought it was just politics for her. But she was a young girl in a strange land – far from her home, which had already lost its sovereignty - whose husband was carrying on with a mortal woman...

  “And then when you were born, there were more problems still. Redleaf could not bear children – not an uncommon ailment among fairies – but the Autumn Kingdom would not stand for a half-human heir to the throne. And your power was strong – you repelled a kewpie when you were still in the cradle! It was a dangerous power. And then Autumn was perhaps going to revolt...we needed to get out of the way, to let it at least look like Redleaf would represent Autumn interests on the throne...”

  Politics! I thought bitterly. Always politics! No matter what, the only thing anyone in fairyland seemed to care about was marriages and treaties, uprisings and revolts and wars.

  “So we were banished. It was so hard for your father to do it – I don't blame him. He had been selfish for so long – we both had – choosing our love over the good of an entire nation. And in the end we realized it was best to separate – that if Redleaf could perhaps bear an heir that you would cede your right to the throne, or at least return after years of absence, when the problems with Autumn came down.

  And then came the war with Winter...” my mother's voice trailed off. “What a strange life we lead, my child. So strange indeed.”

  “Did you love my father?” I asked her.

  “Yes. Almost too much. More than I loved anything else. A dangerous love. I forgot my principles; I forgot everything. I only felt love – love strong enough to let me survive the perils of his fairy kiss. But there is someone I love more than your father, Bree.”

  “Who?” I asked her.

  “You. When I became a mother, I realized that for the first time I had to live for you – and not just for me. And I wanted to raise you well, with good values. I wanted to raise you to do what is right, and not what is easy; I wanted to raise you to be brave as well as good. The choices I made were mine. And I had true love – but I also caused a woman – the Summer Queen – great pain. I also nearly risked a war. In the end it was my choice to leave Feyland – and your father. I told him to banish me. Because I didn't want you growing up to learn that your feelings meant more than another's – that your love was so important that nobody else mattered.”

  “You sound like the Fairies,” I said.

  “They ha
ve a point,” my mother said. “But they have magic – and when love and passion are involved, magic is all the more dangerous. Imagine what would happen in our world if everyone in love had magic powers. There would be murders, duels, explosions, love spells – chaos!”

  “Chaos,” I said.

  “So I left your father. I still love him. But in my heart I know I made the right choice,” said Raine. “Because I love you more. You are the most important person in my life.”

  I thought of Logan and Kian. Was I being selfish, leading both of them on?

  “But how did you know to do the right thing?” I asked her.

  “I knew it in my heart.”

  I told her about the problems with Logan and Kian; she laughed.

  “My little girl is getting so beautiful,” she said. “Of course you have men falling over themselves for you. But you're so young! You're only sixteen.”

  I nodded.

  “Here's my advice for you, little girl. Wait. Don't feel you need to fall in love all at once. Because when you're sure – you'll be sure. Whether it's Logan, Kian, or someone else – you'll know. And don't act on your feelings unless you're sure.”

  I thought of my feelings for Logan, and of my uncertainty. It seemed so much clearer when my mother said it.

  “Why are you always so right,” I asked her, unable to repress a grin at the corner of my mouth.

  “I'm your mother,” she said, smiling. “That's my job. I take care of you.” She stroked my cheek. “Whether it's fairies or pixies or boys.”

  I leaned my head on her shoulder. It was good to be home again.

  Chapter 12

  It was time for the ball. My mother had helped me dress, cloaking my newly clean body in a gorgeous red velvet dress. I had not worn nice clothing since the dress Delano had given me to wear in the Pixie Castle. This was so much better. The green pixie silk had been uncomfortable – the fabric had tightened around my hips, my waist, my breasts in such a way as I no longer looked like myself; I was no longer in control of the way I looked. This fairy velvet was enchanted, too, but in a different way. The fabric contorted to fit me, but instead of forcing me into the hourglass figure of the silk pixie gown, this red enhanced my natural look.

  “Just like your mother,” said my mother, brushing my hair and braiding it. She looked beautiful too, and so much younger than I was used to seeing her. Before this I had always thought of Raine Farrell as my mother, nothing more. But hearing about my father, about her love for him and the difficult choices that she had to make in the end, I began to feel that she was a woman, too – just like me. She knew what I was going through.

  “Makeup?” said my mother, as I eyed the pots of paint and ointments that had been left on the vanity. “You – Bree?”

  I blushed.

  “You're beautiful just the way you are.”

  “But Shasta will be there...” I couldn't help but turn even redder. “And I don't want to look...” I didn't even know how to find the words. “Plain, I guess.”

  My mother smiled at me. “No daughter of mine could ever be plain. Besides – it's a masquerade. Nobody will even see your face.”

  She handed me a mask of red satin, adorned with delicate lace. I put it on, and watched my mother put on hers – colored gold and silver.

  “Soon we'll be going home,” she said, sighing happily. “And then you'll be free!”

  “I don't know how I feel about that,” I said. I couldn't lie to my mother, not even about this. “Feyland is...such a place.”

  “I know what you mean,” said my mother. “I miss it sometimes, too. It's like nowhere else on this earth. And when I paint, I always remember what Fairyland looked like, and I try to capture it on canvas. But it's never the same...”

  It was now sunset, and time for the ball to begin. The bells – tinkling silver bells – began ringing to alert us to all file down into the grand antechamber, from which we would enter the ballroom. My mother squeezed my hand and we walked down together.

  The room was splendid. The walls were carved out of glittering ice, reflecting the dancers back in gorgeous shimmers. But magic had been applied to the room – it didn't feel cold at all – but rather as cozy and comfortable as an autumn breeze. Silver candelabras hung from the ceiling, and a gorgeous silvery moon-like orb hung above us, from which all kinds of glittering light were emanating. I gasped in amazement.

  “It's splendid,” said my mother. “The Winter Court is truly an amazing place.”

  The dancers were outfitted in a rainbow of colors, gliding in circles and swirls around the shining floor. My feet began tingling; how I wanted to dance! To join in! I knew that going home to Gregory, Oregon, was the right decision, but as I watched the Fairy dancers I knew that Feyland would always be a part of me, that I never wanted to let go of. These were my people; fairy lore and fairy magic was in my blood, more than it ever would be or could have been for my mother. Leaving Feyland would be hard. I swallowed back the tears circling at the corners of my eyes.

  “Will you let me have this dance?” said a voice behind me, as a familiar note began to strike up from the orchestra. I turned around. His mask covered his face, but the shining of his eyes gave it all away. I recognized his beautiful, piercing gaze – the eyes that were as blue as the morning after a storm – and I felt his looks bore through me. And then I knew there was nothing for me to do but to say yes to Kian, to give him my hand and let him kiss the tips of my fingers and my knuckles, and then as the Fairy Waltz – that same beloved song we had danced to so often as children – played around us, swelling with emotion and magic, we had to dance with it, echoing the steps that, it had once been foretold, would be playing at our wedding.

  I held him tighter; I felt his arms tighten around me. He didn't feel like Logan – strong and rough, warm and all-encompassing. Rather, Kian's touch was softer, gentler. And then I could not remember Logan's touch, or indeed Logan at all, because as we danced I could feel Kian's lips come closer to mine.

  How could I go home to Gregory, I wondered – when my life was here? My love was here? I was trying so hard to make everything go back to normal – to make up for what happened with Logan, to assuage my guilt at nearly getting him killed, to return to the days of Gregory when I was safe and Logan and I would go walking in the woods – that I had ignored my true feelings, my desire to stay in fairyland. I wanted to stay in this world – a place of such beauty, such magic, a place where a fairy prince with eyes like the sea after a storm could take me in his arms for a dance, and I could feel his breath upon my lips as I struggled against myself not to kiss him.

  I had thought I would never see him again. Since my time at the Summer Court, I had ignored my feelings, swallowed them back. The Summer Queen had convinced me that Kian and I could never be together – there was too much in the way, too much politics, too much bloodshed, too much hatred between our kingdoms. And yet, with him cradling me in his arms, I felt that our love could outlast and outshine and overcome all of this hatred. I knew then that I loved him, that I could never be happy with anyone else, that I had to stay forever in Feyland, to dance forever with my fairy prince.

  I didn't want to wait for him to realize how I felt. I didn't want anyone else taking control – not Delano, not the Winter Queen or the Summer Queen, not Logan – I wanted him to know how much I loved him.

  “Come with me,” I said, as the dance trickled into silence. “I want to talk to you.” I took his hand and led him to a corner of the nearby corridor where we could not be observed.

  “Bree...”

  I wouldn't let him finish. I took him in my arms and kissed him, fully, on the mouth. Once again I felt the shocks of magic tremble through us – as strong as it had been the first time – maybe stronger, for now I was even surer of my feelings for him.

  “Bree,” he said again, his voice swelling with joy. He held my hands tighter.

  “Listen,” I said. “I don't know what's going to happen...”

  “
I've missed you so much,” he said. “My mother knows – she disapproves. She knows you can't stay in Feyland – not with the Summer Queen's banishment still holding...she wants to protect us...with you so far away...” His voice trailed off. His pain was too great for him to bear.

  “But it didn't change how I felt. I don't care what the Summer Queen has to say! I want you here, Bree, with me.”

  “I can't stay in the Winter Kingdom,” I said, miserably. As long as I was a royal member of the Summer Court, the political cost would be dire. The people of both courts would never stand for it.

  “And I can't stay with the Summer Court, either,” I said, my voice filled with darkness. “They won't let me. I tried! But the Summer Queen's anger with my family is still strong. She respects me – maybe – because I respected her – but she won't let me stay. She was willing to let me live just because she knew I'd go off and leave her alone. But if I stayed...”

  “Can't you find a way?” cried Kian.

  I shook my head. “There's nothing I can do.” I wished more than anything that there was another way. “I don't know what to do.”

  “Go back with your mother, I suppose,” said Kian, with some anger in his voice. “To Gregory, Oregon. Along with Logan.”

  I could hear the jealousy sting in his voice, and it was the most horrible sound in the world.

  Chapter 13

  Kian and I stood in the corner of the corridor, staring at each other. We did not know what to say to each other. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him that I loved him, that he meant more to me than anyone else, but the words escaped me. How could I betray Logan, who had done so much for me? Who had nearly risked his life for me, again and again? In assuaging Kian's jealousy, I would end up hurting my best friend. I swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to speak.