Winter Queen

by Erica Marie Hogan

  “Brae, I don’t—”

  A gasp interrupted him. “You’ve brought the princess!”

  Analli appeared, pushing Brecken onto the bench across from Brae. He landed with a grunt, and she grinned, hiding it behind her hand as Analli smoothly scooped up Noelle from Brae’s lap.

  “Lillianda! Bring tea! The little lovely will rest in my bed, yes?” Before Brae could answer, the woman swept away, leaping lightly up the stairs and out of sight. She shook her head wishing she had half the energy Analli had.

  “What are we doing here, Brae?” Brecken growled, leaning over the table.

  “Waiting for our tea,” Brae answered, smoothing her hand along the rough tabletop.

  “We shouldn’t be here.” Brecken’s eyes scanned the room, glaring at the guests who sat bent over their evening meals, minding their own business. “You come here too often, and the king will grow suspicious.”

  “Well, perhaps you should lock me in our quarters and have Litia do my shopping for me while I stay and let my mind grow soft playing dolls with our daughter,” Brae snapped. “You cannot get a better cup of tea anywhere else in this city, much less purchase it from the market. Analli’s brew is refreshing and helps me sleep.”

  Brecken opened his mouth to speak again, but Lillianda appeared, the tray trembling in her delicate hands as she carefully set it down on the table. Brae smiled gently at the girl, newly taken in off the streets by Rufus. She lifted the pot of tea from the tray for her, and Lillianda carefully set a cup down in front of each of them, her wide eyes conveying her appreciation for Brae’s help before she turned, scurrying back into the kitchen like a frightened mouse.

  “The girl’s Molderëinian,” Brecken mumbled, turning his cup upside down when Brae offered him some tea.

  “How can you tell?” Brae asked, breathing the aroma of fresh mint leaves deeply as the hot liquid poured into her cup. “She looks nothing like you or your family.”

  “The mark on her wrist.” Brecken tapped his own. “The two lines with a circle running through them is a mark of a Molderëinian slave.”

  “She was a slave?” Brae’s eyes grew large as she palmed her cup in both hands, raising it so the steam filled her nostrils.

  “That would explain why she jumps at the sound of her master’s voice.” Brecken shrugged. “Slavery in my country is not something I’m proud of. Molderëinians can be cruel to their servants.”

  “Have you ever thought of going back?” Brae sipped her tea, the hot liquid sliding smoothly down her throat to warm her belly.

  “To Molderëin? No.” Her husband shook his head. “It is my birthplace, but I could never return to that life. I could never live so far south, not after so many years in this northern country.”

  “I would think living so far south, you’d be more familiar with the Mountain People. You seemed to know very little about Navaria and Krow.”

  “From what I remember, the Mountain Folk are not forthcoming about their customs. I never saw one when I was a boy, and my father made certain I never would. We were not to disturb their way of living by coming too close, so the mountains were forbidden to all children in Molderëin.”

  “You must have felt strange.” Brae set down her cup, reaching to touch his hand. “Leaving your home so young to come to this strange place.”

  “I don’t remember very well.” Brecken’s shoulder hitched before he pulled away, getting to his feet. “I am going to get our daughter.”

  “We just arrived, Brecken.”

  “Yes.” Brecken stiffened, and she realized suddenly his eyes were fixated on the door. “Look behind you. We have company.”

  Brae glanced over her shoulder. The two cloaked men stood in the doorway, glaring at Brae where she sat at her table. Turning back quickly, she closed her eyes, a chill rushing through her blood that had nothing to do with the breeze the two men let inside when they entered. Brecken squeezed her shoulder as he passed before sprinting up the stairs, calling for Mistress Analli.

  Brae calmly sipped her tea, trying to ignore their stares even as she felt them blazing against her back. If there were two men she despised most in the world, they were Lucas Franlaw and Haedron Norley. The king’s assassins were as cruel as they looked, moving in silence among the darkness their greatest talent and torturing the king’s prisoners their greatest pleasure. Brae hated her husband’s military career required him to work with them but, as with everything else about her new life in Sunkai, there was nothing she could say or do to change it.

  A brush of a cloak against her arm alerted her to their presence beside her table. Brae’s spine stiffened as she slowly set down her cup, staring at the opposite wall so she wouldn’t have to look at them.

  “Enjoying that, are you?” Lucas’s raspy voice grated on her nerves as he slid in where Brecken sat moments ago. Turning over her husband’s cup, he helped himself to her tea, his cold, bleak eyes never leaving her face.

  Brae tried to look beyond him, but his full shoulders and height, even sitting, filled her range of vision.

  “Genuine Quintarian mint leaves, yes?” Haedron drawled, his thick Kaldoner accent dripping with contempt. Kaldon and Quintaria had never been friendly cities, but Haedron held true hatred in his heart for any Quintarian for reasons Brae didn’t even want to know. “Vile stuff.”

  “Is there something you wanted?” Brae ground out the words from behind clenched teeth.

  “We’re here for your husband.” Haedron dropped the pot onto the table where it clattered, falling onto its side.

  Brae leaped from the table before the hot liquid could spill into her lap. Lucas sat as still as could be, frowning at the spilled drink before he shrugged again, downing the last drop from his cup. Haedron gripped her arm before she could back away, giving her a sharp tug forward. Her feet stumbled beneath her, and she fell against his side. Her skin crawled when her hands automatically reached out to brace against his chest, keeping her from falling to her knees. His fingers tightened painfully around her arm.

  “Let me go!” She struggled, shoving his chest and wondering what was taking Brecken so long.

  “He hasn’t told you, has he?” Haedron’s lips twisted into a menacing smile. “He hasn’t told you why we’re going to Quintaria.”

  Brae froze, looking up into his eyes against her will. “You ... you’re going to Quintaria with Brecken?”

  “Hmm.” Haedron’s eyes skimmed her face, pausing for a moment too long on her lips.

  Brae reached behind her quickly, her dagger coming loose with a sharp click. She pressed the point against the underside of his chin. Lucas leaped to his feet, the bench toppling over behind him. Brae was painfully aware of the many eyes that now stared at them—the curious and frightened whispers filling the room. But she didn’t care. She and Haedron stood still, locked together with his hand around her arm and her dagger to his throat.

  “I belong to my husband and no other. You have no right to look at me this way,” Brae snarled, her face twisting in disgust. “Why are you going to Quintaria with my husband?”

  “That is for me to know,” Haedron answered, his eyes darting for only a moment to Lucas where he was slowly sliding his sword from the sheath on his back.

  “Is it about Mirae Sundragon?” Brae said before she could stop herself. “Tell me Haedron Norley, or I swear by the Creator’s Power—”

  “Brae!” Brecken’s voice bellowed behind her, and she closed her eyes. “Unhand my wife, Norley!”

  At Brecken’s command, Haedron released her and she stepped back, slipping her dagger into its scabbard before Brecken could take it away. Her husband stepped between her and the assassin, and she gripped his arm, huddling close against his side for protection. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Mistress Analli standing there with Noelle on her hip, gaping at her. Brae rubbed her arm where Haedron had gripped it, bringing fee
ling back. She left her husband’s side, reaching for her child. Noelle came to her eagerly, tucking her little face against Brae’s neck. She held her child close, turning back to watch her husband come nose to nose with Haedron.

  “If ever you lay a hand on my wife again, I will kill you myself,” Brecken hissed, his voice thick with rage.

  “You should tell your wife to be careful what she carries on the streets. I’m sure King Roderick would be very interested to know you allow her to walk freely with a weapon, Captain.” Haedron bowed low at the waist, flourishing his cloak.

  Brae shuddered, hating she had caused her husband to be mocked in this way. But he didn’t seem fazed.

  “If my wife is allowed to walk freely down this city’s streets, then she is free to carry whatever she wishes. Seems that she is in need of a weapon, wouldn’t you say?” Brecken spit at the man’s feet. “Return to the Blood Keep and wait for me there.”

  “As you wish, Captain.” Lucas thumped his fist to his heart in a salute before shoving Haedron toward the door.

  Brae could breathe again once they were out of sight, but when she turned back she met her husband’s hot glare, and her heart started to race again.

  Mirae sat cross-legged on the bed, watching Astra where she rocked back and forth in her chair by the window. The setting sun streamed down upon her skin, making it glitter in the unearthly way Mirae had come to recognize. Braven and Cohdel stood one on each side of the door, stone-faced and ready with hands on their swords. Mirae puffed out an impatient breath, twirling a loose string from her cloak around her finger.

  Astra had been like this for hours now, without eating or sleeping, and Braven insisted moving her would be too trying on her nerves. If Mirae wanted to keep the woman’s mind intact, then she had to be patient and wait for Astra to tell her when she was ready to go back to the woods. It was strange for the woman to be so reluctant to return to the trees. Places like Quintaria usually put her in a foul mood for lack of a tree to sit under.

  Mirae reached for her necklace, tugging on the chain until it chafed against the back of her neck. Also strange, having Brae’s presence so close to her heart. The necklace almost seemed to be a piece of her sister, sitting upon her heart where Mirae could know if something was wrong—if she was in danger. The feeling was strange and wonderful, something Mirae never wanted to lose.

  Knowing Brae was all right kept her going; kept her moving forward toward her goal to reclaim their home. Once there, she would reinstate Brae as a Sword Maiden of Sunkai and, despite her marriage, bring her into the Blood Keep as the queen’s sister. She would even pardon Brecken Jandry for his treason against her father if Brae wanted. The only thing that mattered was getting there.

  Astra moaned, and Mirae saw Braven wince in the corner of her eye. The woman crossed her arms over her chest, beating her fist against herself again and again as she continued her rocking. Mirae tried to get her to stop, tried to convince her she would just hurt herself, but Astra didn’t even seem to hear her. The clouds had rolled over her eyes once more, and Mirae knew she was Seeing. But she never remembered Astra being this deep in a trance before. Not for this long.

  She knew Keats and Jhase had to be panicking by now, searching everywhere in the city for her if they hadn’t gone back yet to tell Jaeger she’d disappeared. Braven hadn’t let her leave, hoping her presence would soothe Astra. But Mirae knew the woman was beyond soothing, and she couldn’t stay here much longer, not with rumors buzzing about the city that she was seen in the marketplace. It wouldn’t take long for those rumors to reach Sunkai and the king.

  Her thumbs grazed the uneven edge of the dragon’s tail on her necklace, scraping against her calluses. Astra turned to her suddenly, sweat dripping down her temples, loose strands of her hair clinging to her forehead.

  “You have been linked,” Astra groaned, her silver eyes piercing.

  “What do you mean?” Mirae lowered her hand.

  “Only a great power could awaken such old magic.” Astra’s rocking intensified, her braid thumping against her back. “Only the Creator’s touch could allow you to feel what you should not be able to; to have such a presence embodied in so small a thing.”

  “Then it is the necklace that keeps her close,” Mirae whispered.

  Astra moaned, squeezing her eyes closed. “Yes, it is the necklace. Such old magic ... so powerful ... it is not done! It is not used! You will feel pain; you will know sorrow! A dangerous thing you carry, Mirae Sundragon! Very dangerous! The original source of this magic is no longer of this world. Greater power now holds it, and you, in its hand!”

  “Braven, try to calm her.” Mirae slipped down from the bed, readjusting her boots at the knee before slipping her necklace beneath the collar of her bodice. “I have to go find Keats and Jhase.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Clearly, I am doing her more harm than good here.” Mirae cut him off as she strode to the door, coming face to face with Cohdel. “I am your Queen, Cohdel. Step aside. They will be wondering what has become of me, and we cannot afford to have our best fighters roaming the streets of Quintaria. They will be as recognizable as I am, and if rumor begins spreading we are invading the city ...”

  Mirae didn’t finish, she couldn’t. Everything could fall apart if word reached Sunkai that her people were trying to take a city like Quintaria. They didn’t have the numbers to do so, and even if they tried, they could never hold it. She didn’t want to think of the kind of suffering this gentle city would endure if Roderick marched his armies down their streets, subjecting them to the strict and cruel laws he had enforced in the Mother City.

  “Let her pass, Cohdel,” Braven ordered where he crouched in front of Astra, taking hold of her hands even as she resisted.

  “I’ll return as quickly as I can.” Mirae reached back, pulling the hood of her cloak far over her forehead. “Just ... try to keep her calm. Try to make her eat or sleep, anything but that rocking. She’s going to kill herself if she doesn’t rest soon.”

  “Hurry,” Cohdel mumbled, yanking open the door. “Be cautious. This is a quiet city, but there are spies and cutthroats even here. Do not underestimate the shadows.”

  “Thank you, Cohdel.” Mirae’s hand brushed against his arm as she moved passed.

  Taking long strides down the hall, she tried to think where Keats and Jhase could be. If they had returned to the woods, then she needed to get out of the city as quickly as possible to stop Jaeger from doing something rash. She didn’t know how long she’d spent up there with Astra, but long enough for at least one of her bodyguards to start worrying. Keats most likely had already been scouring the city searching for her in dark alleys and ready to report to Jaeger she was missing or dead. Mirae sighed, tugging on the edge of her cloak as she stepped out the door.

  A gust of cold wind tried to take her hood off her head, but she pulled it down, keeping her hair hidden as she started back toward the Lower City. Mirae shook her head at how different the High and Low Cities of Quintaria were from what she remembered of the Mother City. Rumors had reached her ears over the years about the city she had once called home. They said Sunkai’s Lower Village had been decaying during the years of Roderick’s reign, where it had once flourished. One could hardly tell the difference between High and Low in Sunkai when her father ruled.

  Mirae shook her head, curling her fingers around the long hilt of her father’s sword. Learning to balance the long sword in her small hands had been difficult in the beginning, but she knew Adlae had left her the blade for a reason. If she hadn’t wanted Mirae to have the weapon, to use it after she was gone, then she would have taken the sword with her the night in the Gracian Wood when she abandoned her to the forest.

  A rush of ice sliced through Mirae’s heart at the thought. She had tried, very hard, to forgive her sister for leaving her all alone in that wretched place. But it was still difficult to th
ink about, knowing how close she’d come to death, and how she’d cried out for her sister, who never came. Adlae was her oldest sister, the heir to their father’s throne, and she had always been there when Mirae needed her. Except on the night she’d needed her most.

  Mirae shook her head, weaving through the thinning crowds of Quintaria nearing the marketplace. Mirae’s grip tightened on the sword hilt when she felt the burn of eyes on her back. She knew someone was following her, but how long they’d been following was lost to her. Refusing to look over her shoulder—not wanting to alert them to her knowledge of them—Mirae turned down one of the alleys, taking her to the streets leading her to the back gate of the city. The thump of steel-heeled boots on the stone street grew louder behind her, and Mirae lengthened her strides, pushing her cloak back from her shoulders. She didn’t care if someone caught a glimpse of her father’s sword, she needed to be able to get to it quickly.

  Taking the next corner quickly, she spun around, pulling the blade loose with one sharp tug. The cloaked figure stopped behind her, his hands flying up into the air in surrender as the point of her blade found a home against the hollow of his throat. They stood there for a moment in silence, the sword keeping a few feet of distance between them. Mirae tried to calm her racing heart as she stepped closer, keeping the sword pressed against the man’s skin.

  His hood hid his face from sight, but she could tell he was from Sunkai by his clothes. Not many wore the king’s colors so boldly outside the city unless they were on the king’s business. His steel-heeled boots had already told her that, and the silver hilt of his sword marked him a member of the king’s army. He was only taller than her by a foot, his stocky shoulders straining against the confines of the cloak and the black coat pulled taut against his broad chest.