by E. Latimer
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 b
e 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.
I can't be the queen. I won't.
Distraction was good, so I jumped in during a lull in the conversation. "Um, she said there'd be a presentation ceremony on Saturday. What does that mean?"
Erik's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Wow, you must have made a good impression. That's a real honor. Basically, she's going to present you as an official member of the court. None of the other recruits got that."
Charlotte's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, Amy is going to be so jealous."
"I'd say do me a favor and don't tell her, but I guess she'll figure it out Saturday morning." The sick feeling in my stomach was back. "So, what does it mean? Do I have to stand up in front of a bunch of people? I don't have to speak, do I?" Panic made me feel lightheaded.
Erik shook his head and put a hand on my knee. "Whoa, hey. Try to relax. You won't have to say a word. The queen will do all the talking. It's not scary at all. I went through it years ago."
"So, it wasn't bad? What did she say?"
"It's a simple ceremony. You just go up and she tells the audience that you're a part of the court of Niflheim. Of course, I was also appointed a member of the elite guard, so my ceremony was a bit longer." Erik's smile was proud, his eyes far away. "Then everyone cheers and you get off the stage. No sweat." His gaze shifted back to me. "I'll be there to escort you back down the steps. It will be easy."
It was comforting to know he would be there the entire time, so at least that was one thing. I'd never been good at presentations. Back at school in California, I'd barfed all over the stage in our third-grade class production of Alice in Wonderland. And it wasn't like I'd been Alice, either. The flowers in the background were supposed to cheerfully bob up and down and sing, not puke up their cheese sandwiches mid song.
"You still look really nervous," Charlotte said helpfully.
Thanks a lot, Charlotte.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was stupid to go back to the lounge. The last thing I wanted to do was see Leif again. But Erik was busy with a batch of new recruits who had come in that afternoon, and it was either the lounge or Charlotte and I could wander around by ourselves for the rest of the evening. Charlotte decided the lounge was where the other girls would be.
"But what if we see him there?" I finally admitted why I was dragging my feet. "I swear, if he makes you upset again, I'll punch him, and I don't think the queen will let it go a second time."
"You're right. You might get a reputation." She grinned, brown eyes dancing with mischief. "But I for one would love to see you punch him. In fact, I'd probably pay good money."
I pursed my lips and pretended to think. "How much money?"
Outside the doors of the lounge, soft music could be heard—a harp. It sounded peaceful, but already, the murmur of voices from within was making me tense.
A group of jotun exited the lounge. They were talking to one another in low voices, still carrying champagne glasses. The women were wearing sweeping dresses, most of them in silver colors. There were patterns every day—the way they did their hair or the type of dresses they wore. It was always to reflect whatever the queen had on that morning. If she wore a silver dress to the breakfast banquet, everyone had a silver dress on by noon.
It was a little creepy, actually.
The crowd paused a few feet from us, ignoring us. One of the women called out to someone farther down the hall—a tall, blond man with his own group trailing behind him.
Even through the noise of the crowd, it was easy to make out Leif's baritone voice. It sent a shudder of disgust through me.
"I knew this was a bad idea. Let's go before he sees us."
"Just ignore him." Charlotte hooked her arm through mine and tugged. "You have just as much a right to be here as that jerk."
I wasn't at all sure about of that. Leif had been born and raised there. I was an interloper. It was his territory, and I was on it.
"He's heading straight for us. I don't want to—"
His eyes met mine from across the hall and his mouth twisted into an ugly smile. Leif quickened his pace. His wolf pack followed behind him, and they nudged one another and murmured, their eyes fixed on me.
"I heard you had a little run-in with royalty today. They're saying you attacked my cousin." He said it just loud enough that his voice echoed down the hallway.
The group that had been walking past stopped and turned. A few people in the doorway were watching with interest.
It felt like I'd swallowed a brick.
It made sense that Lady Edda was related to Leif. They had the same nasty type of temperament and the same ice-cold good looks. It was astonishing that I hadn't realized they were blood relatives before I’d taken a swing at her.
Then again, I wasn’t sure I would have done anything differently. Lady Edda had been an easy target. We were nearly the same height, and she was thin. Leif was an entirely different matter, and as he settled himself in front of me—planting his feet and crossing his muscular arms over his chest—his eyes glittered. He was hoping I'd attack him.
And this guy was supposed to train me.
"She insulted my friend."
Leif's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced over at Charlotte as if he hadn't noticed her there until now. "What, the servant?"
My jaw twitched, and I took a deep, trembling breath. He was baiting me, challenging me to attack him. And the worst part was that a crowd was gro
wing around the entrance to the lounge. Leif was talking so loudly that people were coming out into the hallway. Most of them, like the wolf pack, were wearing amused expressions. As if this were entertainment to them. Many had a sharper edge to their smiles, which made me want to turn and run. Imagining how they would all laugh was the only thing stopping me.
"You did pretty well for yourself," Leif said, spreading his arms wide to include his friends in the conversation. "Didn't she?"
No one answered, but a few of them snickered.