Frost

by E. Latimer

  “I guess.” I nodded, grudgingly. “But still. What happens now?”

  “It’s up to the queen. I know as much as you do.” He opened the door like he was trying to get out before I could ask anything else. “Goodnight, ladies."

  He shut the door behind him before I could protest, and I glared at it. It was like my questions had shut him down. Part of me wanted to fling the door open and chase after him, to demand more answers.

  He’s definitely hiding something.

  “Wow.” Charlotte flopped onto the bed, staring up at the canopy. "This is amazing. I can't believe this place!"

  "Me either," I muttered. "And I'm beginning to wonder if this is a giant mistake. No pun intended."

  She wrinkled her nose. "Nice one. Well, what are your options? Run away and hide from fire giants for the rest of your life, get arrested by police, or stay here and be pampered." She sighed and then wrinkled her nose. "I'm not a fan of the servant thing."

  "Don't worry. I'm not about to let them do anything to you." I wasn't sure if I could keep that promise, but I sure as hell meant to try.

  "Then I say enjoy this." She smoothed one hand over the bedspread. "Oh man. This is so soft!"

  We ended up spending the rest of the night exploring the room, opening drawers and looking in cupboards, discovering a huge marble tub in the bathroom and the spa shower that shot streams of water at different pressures.

  Charlotte dug through the armoire and found a number of different-colored silk shirts and dresses, lush furs, and leather boots in every size. Finally, when it was well past our bedtime, we slipped into white satin nightgowns and crawled into the massive bed.

  I lay awake for what seemed like forever, listening to the soft sound of Charlotte breathing. Even at night, the ice palace wasn't totally dark. The walls gave off a faint glow as if they had soaked up light all day and leaked it bit by bit into the darkness.

  I stared at the underside of the canopy and wondered if I'd made the right choice.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next morning, I woke up to a good deal of loud squealing. A door slammed, more squealing, and then something bounded across the room and landed on the mattress, shaking the entire bed.

  "It’s her! It's really Megan!"

  Charlotte groaned and rolled over, but I sat straight up, my eyes wide, my heart in my throat. Then I relaxed, dropping the sheets when I saw who it was. "Amy!"

  Amy was bright-eyed and glowing, dressed in a silvery, sleeveless top and black, flowing pants. Her long hair was braided and coiled at the back of her neck, almost the same style the queen had worn last night.

  "You're finally here! What took so long?" She was grinning like a maniac.

  "Hey." I rubbed sleep from my eyes and peered at the other girls.

  They hung back, considerably more reserved than their ringleader. They were all dressed in similar outfits in different shades of blue.

  "Hey, girls." They smiled, and Becca gave me a wave. I turned back to Amy. "It's a long story. I was kidnapped by fire giants first."

  Amy's eyes went huge. "No way. What was that like? Did you fight them off?" Her face was flushed with excitement. "We're learning to fight. Every day. It's so much fun! Our teacher is Prince Leif. He's kind of harsh, but incredibly hot, so that makes up for it."

  I rubbed my eyes again and tried not to yawn. "The queen has a son?"

  "Um, yes." Amy rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and clasped her hands under her chin. "He's totally drool-worthy. Sometimes, he hangs out in the lounge when he's not training. You should come with us. We can introduce you."

  Charlotte rolled over beside me, blinking sleepily. "Oh, hey."

  Amy smirked. "Boy, are you lucky Megan has the guts to stick up for you. Now, you get to stay in the palace. I mean, without being one of the servants." She snickered and climbed off the bed, still chattering as she made her way around the room. "Oh my Gods, your room is even bigger than mine. What is up with that?"

  The others spread out, inspecting the room as well.

  Margaret’s eyes went wide behind her glasses, and she pushed them up the bridge of her nose. "Wow, Megan, your room is way bigger than ours. And you have a bathroom all to yourself."

  Amy stopped in front of the vanity and shot me a narrow look over her shoulder. "And everyone has been talking about your arrival nonstop. What's the deal? What did the queen say when you arrived?"

  Charlotte sat up, pulling the comforter around her shoulders. "You don't know yet? Amora was the queen’s daughter, and Megan looks just like her."

  "What does that mean?" Amy looked wary.

  I shrugged. Her enthusiasm evaporated, replaced by her usual sour look, and I almost groaned out loud. But then Alicia gave Margaret an exasperated look and quickly said, "What about the lounge and Leif?"

  Amy brightened. "That's right. Get your lazy butts out of bed. Come on!" She tugged the sheets off us.

  Charlotte groaned and rubbed her eyes. "All right. Hold your horses."

  I climbed out of bed and made my way to the chest of drawers, rummaging around until I found a loose-fitting, white blouse and a flowing, black skirt. It was a bit weird wearing clothes that weren’t mine, but my jeans and my sweater were in a pile on the floor, and they probably smelled by now.

  "Don't look,” I said. “I'm changing."

  "Toss me one of those dresses," Charlotte said.

  The girls turned away, looking at the ceiling or checking their hair in the vanity mirror, while we shrugged into fresh clothes. I tied my hair in a messy bun, promising myself a shower later.

  "Ready?" Amy could hardly contain herself, she practically ran out the door.

  Charlotte and I trailed after the girls down several twisting corridors we hadn't seen yet. Servants scurried past, heads bowed, and we both stared.

  The other girls didn't seem to notice them, which made me a bit uneasy. Didn’t they realize how strange this place was?

  "The lounge is always full." Amy’s face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled. "Some of the guys here are seriously to die for. Just wait till you see some of the other recruits."

  "There's more of us? More people who were taken?" I tried to keep my voice down so it didn’t echo in the icy hallways like Amy's.

  Now that I wasn't exhausted, it was strange to realize we were walking down a hallway made completely out of ice.

  "How does this not melt?" Charlotte pulled her sweater shut and shivered. "I mean, not that it feels like it's melting. It's freezing."

  Amy shot her a scornful look. "It doesn't melt because it's too thick. You think igloos melt on the Eskimos? And the rest of us can't feel the cold. Well...maybe the servants do." She laughed and turned away, her footsteps echoing on the icy floor.

  Charlotte glared at her back. "Well, good for you." She muttered something I couldn't quite make out under her breath. Pretty sure it wasn't anything nice.

  I nudged Charlotte and made a horrible choking face, pleased when her frown dissolved into a smile.

  As we rounded the corner, my smile faded. The sound of voices and violin music echoed down the hall, creating a lump in my throat.

  Was this another throne room situation? Was everyone going to stare at me again? I wasn't ready for that. I hadn't even washed my hair yet.

  "I hope they have those cream puffs again," Stacy said. "The ones with jam in them. They were so good."

  Amy rolled her eyes. "If you keep eating those, you're going to be shaped like a cream puff."

  "Shut up! I only had three last time. They're tiny."

  Margaret hung back a little, giving me a wide smile. "We're glad you made it safely. We were worried about you, you know. Some of the soldiers sent to recruit us were a little...assertive."

  Charlotte's eyes widened. "Did other people get knocked out too? They pretty much shoved her in a van. Erik told us it was a mistake."

  Margaret shook her head. "Nothing as bad as that. But Alicia freaked out and tried to call her mom. They thre
w her phone away. She won't stop talking about it."

  I frowned. "Did they take away yours? What about our parents? Are we allowed to tell them we're okay?"

  Hopefully my letter had made it to Dave. What if the frost giants had somehow intercepted it?

  "They didn't take mine away." Margaret shrugged. "But I didn't try to call anyone. Amy's already tried to text from here, of course. No reception."

  Charlotte gestured at the walls. "Ice castle. Makes sense. I guess Eskimos don't text from their igloos." She shot Amy another nasty look, which Amy didn't notice since she still was arguing with Stacey about cream puffs.

  I rolled my eyes, and Margaret snickered.

  "Don't let the lounge intimidate you," Becca said.

  I glanced at her, startled. She was so quiet that I'd almost forgotten she was there. She rubbed her arms and gave me a nervous smile.

  There was one last bend in the corridor, and then the source of the noise became clear. Amy didn't give us much time to take in the surroundings. She surprised me by reaching back and latching onto me, looping her arm in mine and dragging me forward before I could protest.

  I caught a glimpse of a pair of large double doors as I was dragged through them, and then I was in the middle of a crowd of very tall, very blond people.

  At first, nobody really noticed us. The crowd stood around like they were at a cocktail party, chatting in groups, delicate wine flutes in their hands. There wasn’t a single pair of jeans in the room, and I was suddenly glad I'd worn the borrowed clothing, as weird as it felt. If I'd walked into this place in jeans and a dirty sweater, they all would have been staring for sure.

  At the back of the room was a bar manned by a couple of shorter, dirty-blond jotun men who were serving up wine and champagne with the efficiency of long practice. They weren't dressed in the same drab clothing as the others were, but in crisp, black suits. A higher class of servant.

  There were also servants making the rounds with trays balanced on both hands, offering glasses of sparkling liquid to lounge guests. The source of the music was at the back, in the form of a band of jotun playing violins and flutes. This place was way too classy for my taste, but Amy was beaming at everyone.

  Someone from a group of people to our left waved at her, and Amy's face lit up. "There’s the other recruits. Come on. We'll introduce you."

  "Sure." Already, I was nervously twisting one sleeve between my fingers.

  I was bad enough in social situations most of the time. On top of that, these people didn't seem that friendly. But Amy still had her arm linked through mine, so I allowed myself to be dragged over to the group.

  We got closer, and the subtle differences between Amy's crowd and the rest of the room became obvious. The group we were approaching was slightly shorter, and while the rest of the jotun were tall and whip-thin, moving with the kind of grace that figure skaters had, these people were...blocky. Not fat, just more solid. The men were muscular. The women's shoulders were broad. Soldiers.

  Amy grinned at them. "Hey, these are the new girls. This is Megan"—she jerked a thumb over her shoulder—"and Charlotte."

  Charlotte only nodded, hanging back.

  I cleared my throat nervously. "Uh, hi."

  The response was pretty lackluster. A few of them nodded, and one waved, but it was a limp-wristed kind of thing, almost like she was waving me off.

  The waving girl stood at the back of the group, a wine glass in one hand. She was a little taller than I was, with a slender, freckled face and dark eyes. She also had a long, jagged scar running across her left cheek. Had the recruits already been fighting?

  My stomach turned. If Charlotte and I were recruits too, did that mean they'd throw us straight into the fray? I'd never picked up a sword in my life. Having dreams hardly counted.

  The girl's mouth lifted on one side—half a snarl, half a smile—and I blinked, looking away quickly. She was probably used to people staring at her. "Nice to meet you all."

  The scar-faced girl snorted. "So you're Megan. Guess you're a big deal around here."

  I stared at her. There was definite resentment in her voice, and it made my skin crawl.

  I looked over the rest of the group and realized they all had similar expressions on their faces. Resentment, irritation, disgust.

  There were five of them altogether, three guys, scar-faced girl and another girl with short, spiked hair who wasn't even looking at me. She chewed her thumbnail, undisguised boredom on her face.

  Desperate to break the tension, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "So, is that all of us, then? All the recruits, I mean?"

  One of the guys, whose almost-orange skin matched Stacey's terrible spray tan, smirked. "No, we're just the ones who turned out well. There are a bunch of other reject recruits. They're still being trained, but chances are they'll end up in the servants’ corridors." His blue eyes trailed over me and settled on Charlotte.

  I curled my hands into fists, my jaw clenching. I'd already fought the queen on this one. If I had to, I'd argue with every damn jotun who brought it up.

  But Malibu Ken didn't say anything, just shrugged and took a sip from his wine glass, giving the scar-faced girl an amused look.

  It made me want to punch him.

  "Well, if you won't introduce yourselves, I will." Amy wagged her finger at them. "Too much training is making you forget your manners. You think the queen would stand around and stare like an idiot?"

  Stacey rolled her eyes behind Amy's back and made a face at Alicia, who pressed her fingers over her mouth.

  "Don't your lips ever get tired from all that butt kissing, Amy?" The scar-faced girl sneered. Amy instantly turned bright red, waving her off, her laughter high and artificial. "Gods, you're so charming, Karina." She jerked my arm. "That's Karina. She's a bit of a bitch sometimes. Just ignore her."

  Someone finally rivaled Amy for the "bit of a bitch" award. Interesting. And apparently, Karina was bold enough to insult Amy straight to her face, which was more than I could say for any of the other girls. I just nodded at Karina, trying hard not to smirk.

  Karina's mouth twitched and she shrugged.

  "I'm Elliot," fake-tan guy offered. He looked like he was about to say more, but Amy started tugging on my arm, nearly wrenching it out of its socket.

  She leaned close to my ear. "Leif and his friends just walked in. Oh Gods. Isn't he amazing?"

  "Girls!" The baritone voice made me whip around.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking toward us. Behind him, what was undeniably an entourage followed. It would have been ridiculous if it hadn’t been so intimidating.

  All tall and golden, they stood head and shoulders above the rest of us, in perfect physical condition, clad in leather and silk hunting gear. I counted while they stalked towards us. Six in total. Honestly, I couldn't see what Amy was so happy about. They looked at us with thinly veiled scorn, as if we amused and disgusted them all at once.

  Leif pulled his hood back as he walked, shaking droplets of ice from light-blond hair. "Shouldn't you be practicing your lessons from yesterday?"

  Alicia giggled and nudged Margaret.

  Amy gave him a wide smile and murmured, "Told you he was hot."

  He was. There was no denying it. In a way, his facial structure was similar to Erik’s, the strong jaw line and intense, blue eyes. But where Erik’s smile was kind, Leif’s was just…sharp. Like he could cut you with it if you weren’t careful.

  In fact, as I watched him stride toward us, it occurred to me that everything about him was fierce. Aggressive, even. I braced myself as he moved closer, half expecting to be knocked over by his physical presence. Leif halted in front of me.

  I had to tip my head back to look at his face. When our eyes met, his grew wide and his whole expression changed. The smooth arrogance melted away, and his mouth dragged down in a snarl.

  "You must be the new recruit everyone is talking about." His voice had a hard edge to it, almost accusatory.<
br />
  "I guess so." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm Megan."

  He shifted his gaze toward the other girls. "You shouldn't be fooling around. You should be practicing your sword play like I taught you."

  "We've been practicing all day," Stacey complained. When he shot her a dark look she faltered and fell silent.

  Leif turned back to me, and I shifted, resisting the urge to back up a step. "I guess you won't be sparring,” he said. “Or fighting at all, ever."