Fantasy of Frost

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Fantasy of Frost Page 11

by Kelly St Clare


  The King walks slowly back to his throne and lowers himself down in weary comparison to his energy filled movements of a moment before. It has been silent for so long, I jump when Malir resumes talking.

  “Once we discovered Kedrick’s body, it was unclear as to whether the rest of the delegates were at risk.”

  Finally, I’m going to hear what happened in the days after his death.

  “Rhone returned to gather the others and steal some of the fast beasts Solati ride between the rotations. It was easy enough as we were already packed in readiness to depart,” Malir continues. “I buried Kedrick as best I could and stayed with the unconscious Princess. It was decided between us to flee Osolis so news of his death would reach you. We got a good head start. A large group of villagers tried to attack us when they saw we carried their Tatuma, but we were able to escape. We had to…incapacitate the guards at the entrance to the great stairway. They were not killed. We destroyed the rope ladder to the first stair so we could not be followed. We have been travelling since the night of his death.” Whispers start up behind us.

  I am disappointed with his brief explanation, most of this I had already guessed myself.

  The King absorbs this before he speaks, a striking difference to what Kedrick would have done. His thoughts would have already been blurted out. I blink back a stinging in my eyes, surprised. I have not cried at all since the night he died. What a time for them to want to start. I dig my dirty nails into my grimy palm.

  “You questioned the Tatuma before you left?” he asks, though he says it more like a statement than a question. There is a ripple through the delegates around me. Some make sounds of disapproval and a few hang their heads, but almost as one they look at Blaine.

  The King must direct his attention to Blaine also because his face blanches. I almost feel sorry for him, knowing I will soon be receiving the same attention.

  “The Tatuma was unconscious for several days after Prince Kedrick’s death. Malir hit her too hard over the head,” Blaine says in a shaking voice, throwing a glare at the others.

  “Why did you hit her?” the King asks.

  “The Tatuma was…upset. The noise would have attracted unwanted attention,” Malir says.

  “She was wailing like a child,” Blaine puts in. I raise my eyebrows at his comment. I don’t remember doing this. But it explains why Malir used force.

  Blaine continues. “We tried to question her on our way up, but she refused to answer,” he says in a shaking voice, throwing a glare at the others.

  I’m almost thankful to Blaine for telling me what I have wanted to know. At least I had been unconscious the whole time. I had worried I had gone temporarily insane in those few days, especially with how I had been upon waking.

  “She was grieving, you idiot! Anyone could see she wasn’t ready to talk of it,” Sanjay bursts out. I have never seen Sanjay so angry, or angry at all really. The back of his neck is so red, it almost matches his red hair.

  The King stands so fast, I take a step back, standing on Roman’s foot.

  “Sorry,” I whisper. Roman squeezes my right arm in reassurance or in farewell, I don’t know which.

  “You brought her here?” the King breathes. “Where is she?”

  Whispers start up, growing louder until people are yelling and shouting to be heard.

  The delegates sigh, and exchange glances with the others around them. I’m gratified they don’t appear to want to throw me to the fires anymore. Not that it helps me in the least.

  Malir and Rhone move to the side, followed by Sanjay and Adnan who stand directly in front of me. The other delegates step away from my sides and I feel Roman distance himself from my back.

  I take my good hand out of the coat pocket and straighten my shoulders before looking at Kedrick’s brother.

  My head tilts back, and then back some more. Solis, he is tall. If he stood still I could believe he was a tree.

  I do not breathe as he takes me in.

  I take the chance to do the same.

  His blue eyes are exactly like Kedrick’s were. But where I had always felt as though Kedrick could feel my gaze through my veil, I get the chilling sensation the King can see through my veil. That he can see inside me.

  His penetrating eyes make me want to hide.

  His hair is darker than Kedrick’s was, and where Kedrick’s hair had been cut short, the King’s was almost to his shoulders. Aside from these features I cannot see any other resemblance. Kedrick was strong, but he did not exude pure power as this man does.

  “This…is the Princess?” the King asks, looking up at the delegates with raised eyebrows. “My brother loved a child?”

  My eyes narrow. I was short by the standards of their females and in oversized clothes, but I was taller than a child. I keep quiet, aware he is lashing out, testing me.

  “Does it talk?” he says to the room, there are a few laughs from the court. Blaine joins in and loathing fills me at the sound. Adnan and Sanjay throw him a filthy look.

  The King stalks down the platform towards me.

  In every action he makes, there is the suggestion of a threat. I have never felt more like running in my life. His expression is blank, but I have no doubt he is taking in everything; my veil, the empty sleeve of my coat, the reactions of the men around me who stand tense and shift closer to me as the King draws near.

  I take a breath and speak.

  “It does. I was not aware you had asked a question of me, King Jovan.” His eyes narrow at my slight reprimand. Rudeness was probably not my best choice, but if I was allowed to live I couldn’t show weakness. Aquin is in my ear; start how you mean to go on. I also hear him saying; pick your battles, but as far as I was concerned, I had picked my battle by not trying to fight eleven delegates on Oscala.

  “Take off your veil, I want to see your face,” he says, waving a hand at my head.

  “No,” I say straight away. There are loud gasps from both the delegates and the court at my refusal.

  Adnan steps in. “Uh, King Jovan. The Tatuma never takes off her veil. Kedrick said we must never ask her of it.” I turn my head to Adnan, my heart breaking a little at hearing this unknown fact about Kedrick. This explains why they had never tried to remove my veil while on Oscala, they were respecting Kedrick’s wishes The King gives a low hum at Adnan’s information.

  “Are you crippled?” He gestures to my arm, his eyes still on Adnan whose breathing had become shallow.

  My mouth drops open behind my veil. Solis, even Sanjay does not compare to this boldness. I wonder if the King is trying to unbalance me.

  “No, I hurt my wrist in a fall while climbing Oscala,” I say. The King raises an eyebrow for translation, still staring at Adnan who blurts out in a higher voice than normal. “The great stairway.”

  Kedrick’s brother snorts, breaking his gaze and striding a few steps away as though this confirms his judgement of me. “The great stairway is not for the weak.”

  I say nothing, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. But I do roll my eyes under the safety of my veil.

  Sole takes a tiny step forward. “She broke her wrist while saving my life on the stairway. She did it at great risk to herself,” his voice squeaks and he steps back the instant it is said, taking a much bigger step backwards than he took forward to begin with. My eyes shift to Blaine to catch his reaction. I’m not disappointed.

  The King turns, but does not say anything, just strokes his face. I can hear a bristling sound as he does, a light stubble covers his jaw.

  “Without the Tatuma, we would have lost Sole,” Malir says.

  “Yet it is because of her my brother is dead.” The King’s tone is raw and harsh. He turns his head to the side for a few moments. I’m in awe he is still able to be so composed with the news his brother has been murdered. The lack of emotion he displays has me most scared out of anything he has done so far.

  He turns a blank face towards us.

  “I must think on what we will do with
the girl,” he says. I grit my teeth again, a retort on the tip of my tongue, but I draw back, knowing the King’s grief is fresh. It was only a month ago when I felt my heart was cut out from me, and this man had known Kedrick for much longer than I.

  He gestures at some guards behind him and speaks a quiet command to them. They approach and I feel the group around me hesitate.

  Disobedience from his men will surely rile the King’s temper and his threat of Malir and Rhone still weighs on my mind. I step forward and squeeze Malir’s hand, then Adnan’s.

  “Thank you.” I nod at the others who then surprise me by bowing down one by one.

  Except of course for Blaine. I stop in front of him

  “Did that go how you expected?” I ask, he takes a step towards me, fury contorting his face.

  I laugh quietly and do not resist as the guards push me out of the room.

  The King’s voice sounds behind me. “Roscoe. Find Ashawn and send him to my quarters.”

  I’m led through the palace.

  The layout is straightforward, unlike the twisting halls of the two palaces I grew up in. I’m prodded up some more large steps to a small wooden door. It opens into a massive, very cold room.

  My teeth chatter in the frigid air. It is obvious no one has been in here for a long time. I can smell the air is stale even with my cold nose. If this is their dungeon though, it’s not so bad.

  I wrap my arms around myself and shiver. If being cold means my life, I will gladly take it. The guards surprise me though when one stoops to light a fire in an area built into the wall. Once this is lit they leave the room, closing and locking the door behind them. I listen for their fading steps, but they stay outside the door.

  It looks as though I am to be watched.

  I approach the fire with my hands outstretched. I move my head closer in confusion. Where is the wood? Instead of wood there is a heap of small, round beads somehow keeping the fire alight. Kedrick had never mentioned these. I go down onto my knees, getting as close as possible.

  I stay by the fascinating fire until I’m warm and my eyes are heavy. I look towards the bed which must easily be double the size of my bed on Osolis. The surrounding drapes are pulled back and tied to four large stone columns at each corner of the bed. A heaped mass of furry blankets, similar to my coat, are piled on the bed.

  I think longingly of a bath as I walk with bone-weary steps to the bed and wrap myself in a fur. However, I think the guards will more likely laugh at this request than allow it. I lay down in the soft bed, remembering I have not slept in a bed for many weeks.

  I expect to spend the night tense and waiting for attack, but my exhaustion has other plans. I’m out once my head touches the pillow.

  Chapter Seventeen

  My eyelids crack open for at least the tenth time the next day. This time I’m able to keep them from closing. I sit up, trying to shake off the remnants of my deep sleep. There had been no nightmares of Kedrick’s murder. It may have been the best sleep I’d ever had.

  I look around the room with blurry eyes and blink at the sight of a small pile of clothing on the long seat at the end of the bed.

  “Oops,” I say into the empty room. Aquin would make me train all day if he knew someone had crept up on me.

  The fire still burns and the room is a comfortable temperature, though the stone is still cold under my bare feet. Wrapped in the fur, I walk over to the window to gauge the time. A wall of swirling white snow is the answer to my inquiry. I cannot see anything.

  Returning to the bed, I pick up the clothing and measure it against my chest. It must be children’s clothing because it is a close fit. There are also trousers and boots.

  On the table next to the door is a bowl of water and a cloth, much like what we use on Osolis. It looks like my longing for a bath will go unsatisfied today, but clean clothes were more than I expected. I wonder how often Bruma wash. If I believed the court rumours back on Osolis, I would think never. The delegates had certainly not seemed bothered by their lack of cleanliness during our ascent. Though, in their defence, there had not been anything to wash with. We had all been covered in grime. The basin wash does not give anywhere near the clean feeling which submerging myself in water would do. However, I am able to get a layer or two of grime off and wash my broken wrist. I will have to ask someone to put the splint back on for me. The water is black when I’m done.

  Afterwards I’m more optimistic about my situation, but this slowly fades when no one comes to collect me all day. Later attempts at opening the door are unsuccessful. Occasionally, the guards murmur and someone pushes food under the door twice. They wouldn’t lock me in here forever would they?

  To take up time, I look around the room for ways to get out. I can think of only two ways to escape. Neither effective with my injuries. I run through various scenarios of what the King may ask and what I would like to say. Then, in danger of going out of my mind, I rifle through my pack. I shake my head at my useless robes, I might need them though if I’m able to escape after killing Kedrick’s assassin. I take the fletching out of the pocket of my robes, looking at it, remembering why I’m here. I push it down the side of my new boots. Despite being in Kedrick’s home, I have never felt more distant from his memory.

  The bolt of the door slides back with a clang. I jump, whipping my hand up as I straighten. A guard stands in the doorway. He has a sword sheathed at his side and holds a spear in his right hand.

  “The King wants you in the meeting chamber,” he says.

  I’m almost excited as I leave the room.

  Torches have been lit since last night and I see there are no other rooms up this stairway. The guards direct me down the staircase and back into the main hallway. I get my first real look at the palace and its occupants.

  Bruma line the walls, staring at me with undisguised hostility. They don’t seem to be doing anything in particular in the hall, except waiting for me to pass so they can show how much they dislike the child-like Solati in their midst. I wonder if it was like this for the delegates when they first arrived on Osolis. It is a strange feeling to know you are disliked just for being born on another world.

  One of the Bruma goes as far to spit at my boots. My nose scrunches in revulsion, but I make no outward acknowledgement of his action.

  The Bruma are tall. I am able to tell the females and males apart here. The females all wear their hair loose down their backs. There are no fancy hair styles at all. The trousers and tunics the men and women wear are of better quality than the villagers we passed on our way in, which is to be expected of the people closest to the King. There is fur, leather and the same fur-lined cloth I am wearing, which I don’t know the name of.

  The woman’s clothing is tighter than the males and the necklines of their tunics are lower. Some extremely so. One woman has trousers which lace up the side, but she has let skin show down each side. They all have one thing in common, though. The glares on their faces. I do not feel welcome for one moment, but I remember my vow not to appear weak and keep my head high. A guard swings a door open before me and I walk into the meeting chamber.

  I look across the room and stumble in shock.

  Kedrick is in the room.

  A prod in the back pushes me forward. My heart drops as I see this version of Kedrick is too young. I shake my head. It must be Ashawn. He looks nearly identical to him. He has the same lighter brown hair and blue eyes, the same intelligent face and, if the situation were different, I imagine his smile would be the same.

  I look at Kedrick’s younger brother, my heart breaking. He stares at me also, but with a different expression. I recognise his rage. It is like the fury simmering deep within my body. He makes to move over to me, but the King grabs his arm and talks quietly to him. The younger brother responds, gesturing wildly, before standing at Jovan’s reply and storming out of the room.

  No one comments on his departure. King Jovan’s face does not change.

  The air in here is colder t
han my room. The Bruma in attendance seem comfortable, most of them in short-sleeved tunics. I shiver and curse at forgetting my coat.

  The room is stone, in keeping with the rest of the Glacium palace. A large table also made of stone, circles most of the room.

  A single chair sits vacant in the middle of this stone ring.

  I look around at the Bruma sitting around the outside of the table. My delegates are already here. They all look exhausted. I wonder if they had been in meetings ever since our arrival. I note, with envy, their hair is washed and their faces are free of grime.

  The guard at my back pushes me into the middle, towards the vacant seat. I fix my jaw at his manhandling and decide to be defiant, stopping as we reach the area where most of the delegates sit.

  “I hope the reunions with your families went well,” I say. The guard prods me in the back again.

  Most of them just smile and nod back at me, darting looks at the King. Sanjay, of course, goes the extra step.

  “I had several reunions with Fiona,” he says with a grin, resting back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. Rhone snorts and several of the other delegates muffle their laughter. The guard pushes more forcefully. I turn to look at him. He glares back. The delegates continue to joke behind me.

  “It would’ve taken more than one reunion to make it worth her while, after a year of being without a woman,” Roman says from the other side of the ring.

  “I take it poor Jacqueline was not satisfied the first time,” Sanjay returns. Several Bruma laugh. I wonder at how appropriate this subject is given the situation, but no one seems bothered.

  The guard pushes me roughly. I stumble forward and grab my still un-splinted wrist. An angry murmur starts behind me and I hear a couple of the delegates push their chairs back. But I have reached the end of my patience. I spin around and point a finger in the guard’s face.

  “Push me one more time, and you and I are going to have a problem,” I say in a dark voice. My threat is not satisfying in the slightest, but during my morning in isolation I had decided it best to continue keeping my ability to fight to myself. It would hardly count in my favour if I displayed the skill which would have been necessary to kill Kedrick. Ironically though, shooting arrows was the one thing I was unable to do with my veil on. But they didn’t need to know how impaired my sight was, either.

 

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