A Heart of Ice

by Phoenix Briar

  The woman laughs. “Ha ye met the princess yet?”

  “No,” I tell her, moving to the fire as she gathers the new dress.

  “Then ye ken no’ what ye say. Petara is a lady, and propriety is mighty important ta her. If she did suggest it ta Ckai’ten, twas only cause his eyes a’lingered on ye.” I glance at her anxiously. “An dinna fret o his reputation. Eben if he did care—an’ he don’t—he was an illegitimate child born to a soldier. He ha’ worked hard to no make ‘is fathar’s mastakes, but you’ll do no more damage ta him than he would to another young lassie. He wouldna been able ta take a lass anyhow if ye didn’t agree ta go.”

  I look over at her, and I am angry, although not at her. Adultery is not taken lightly in the Inferno either. Older traditions ordered that the adulterer and his or her lover be killed, along with any child brought from the affair. Now, although death is an acceptable sentence whether the offended mate is male or female, it is the Dai’lyn of both parties who decides the fate of their mates, and if one does not have a mate, then he or she suffers the fate of their lover. But children are no longer condemned with their parents, whatever the decision, and are left in the care of the Den. It is not uncommon, in fact, for such children to become the playmates and servants to the royal children. One of my playmates as a child, in fact, had been in such a circumstance where her father had been sentenced to death and her mother, although her life had been spared, had rejected her entirely.

  “Here nao,” Heather says sharply, dragging me up and roughly squeezing my hair as she pushes me towards the clothes. “Stop ya broodin’. Ckai’ten dinna pay dem no mind, an’ neitha should you. Go an’ ha’ ye fun tonight.”

  The dress that she pulls on me, after all of the chemise and petticoats, is by far one of the prettiest things I have ever seen. It is a simple dress, crafted of thick, black velvet, probably a dress meant for hunting or horse riding, meant to withstand the day’s attacks on it. The sleeves open wide with black lace, and the front is split, closed in with mock ribbon lacing, leaving a gap over my chest and a larger split from my stomach to the floor. But after a thick cotton chemise and a thicker wool one, another red silk chemise on top of that, I am well covered and very warm.

  Most women will be wearing slippers, but I put on a pair of black, leather boots lined with fox fur on the inside and thick stockings in order to keep warm. And after a pair of black gloves, I am fairly warm—all things considered. I will be wearing a cloak as well, which Heather swings around me and clasps in the front. It is heavy wool and lined with fur, snug and warm. Heather fixes a red rose pin in my hair, which is left down in glossy red and gold ringlets.

  She argues with me over painting my lips and putting kohl on my eyes. I hate anything on my face, but Heather finally wins the argument, and I sulk as she paints my lips and smears kohl on my eyes, dusting my cheeks with a soft rose powder.

  Finally, we are able to leave as the sun sets, a dark orange and pink hue in the sky. I wonder if we missed most of the festival, but Heather assures me that the festival is really not exciting until night sets in. She opens the door, and I hesitantly go forward, for the first time really anxious. After my Dai’lyn died, the only men I ever sought even friendship from was my brother and Jacob, and perhaps Blaze when he wasn’t trying to kill me. I am also fairly certain that I will greatly stand out among the Crystalice, and I am very unfamiliar with their culture. I can write a book on their military strategies and weapons, but I know next to nothing about their people and social etiquettes.

  Ckai’ten is posted at my door, waiting for me. He moves away from the wall, turning to look at me, and he goes very still. His eyes lock on mine for a long moment before slowly wandering over my face, the pin in my hair, then down to my dress before coming back up to my eyes. I suddenly feel naked, and I fidget a bit, glaring at him. “Stop staring.”

  He catches himself and almost blushes, smiling warmly at me. “Good evening to you as well, Scarlet.”

  I laugh and shake my head at him. I remember what Heather said: a man rejected by his companions and the dames of this land. It makes me angry. So I go to him and go up on my toes, touching my hands to his chest, and I kiss his lips, sweetly, softly. I may never be more than a friend to him, but I can give him that much at least. He goes very still, startled by the kiss, for I feel him suck in a breath through his nose. But then he eases and puts an arm around me, looking dazed when I sink down to my heels again. He looks at me, and a dark stain colors his cheeks, and he smiles anxiously, but happily.

  “Come than!” Heather says with a big smile. “Le’s be off!” I laugh, and the four of us, including the other guard at my post, head down the hall to the festival outside. Once we reach the second floor, I can hear loud and boisterous music pouring in from outside, and I smile. “Ye muss meet ma babes, Scarlet. Mos’ ‘specially ma littlest one, Delana. Ma oldest is keepin her tonight for she is with child herself, and her husband is no about to let her outside to go dancing and wanderin about up late.”

  I smile, but there is a nervousness about me. Tam is one of Heather’s fledglings as well, and…I am not certain I want to meet him again. “I would love to. Ardien, where is your Senai?”

  The other guard looks at me, clearly displeased that I know his name. He cuts his eyes to me and then looks ahead again. “She will meet me in the town.”

  I glance up at Ckai’ten, wondering why Ardien is so cold to me, although I suppose I know the reason; it just saddens me. Ckai’ten smiles gently, walking with his arm around my shoulders and my hand at his lower back. It is fairly common for Inferno to walk all tangled with their Dai’lyn, but apparently not for Crystalice. As a few people stare at us as we descended upon the first floor, I remember Dena saying that most people thought her scandalous because she wanted to hold hands with her Teir—Claque.

  The thought of that man turns my blood cold, and I clutch my teeth together. Ckai’ten apparently notices my displeasure, because he looks back down at me, wordless, but clearly concerned. I sigh and return his look with a small smile, loosening my grip on his shirt. When I look ahead again, I am a bit startled when my eyes meet with pure ice.

  Gabriel had just stalked into the castle, covered in sweat and dirt, wearing only a pair of dark blue slacks. He is tired and in much need of a bath, looking like he has wrestled wolves all day, which he very well may have been, knowing him. He stops in his tracks as our eyes collide, and I stop as well, causing a reaction so that all of us halt. Nothing is said for a moment, although Heather might have muttered something under her breath. I take a breath and say solidly, “Heather, you and Ardien go ahead.” I can tell that Gabriel means to stir trouble as sure as a mother knows when her child is in to something he aught not to be. Heather hesitates, but then says a sharp word to the guard, and they move outside, walking around Gabriel.

  I look up at Ckai’ten, and his arm tightens on my shoulders. “You as well, my friend. I need to speak with Gabriel.”

  He gives a single shake of his head, eyes ever on Gabriel. “I cannot, Scarlet. Gabriel is my prince, and I must protect him…even from you.”

  I give him a small, knowing smile, sighing softly when I hear Gabriel call for me. “Cara,” he says, his voice a dark song that echoes in my mind, that steals my breath and sinks into my chest, making me unstable.

  I look back to him, my golden eyes blazing and my lips a thin line of displeasure. Gabriel moves towards us, standing in front of us. His eyes are not angry, but they ravage my eyes, my face, Ckai’ten’s arm tightening on my shoulders and mine at his back. I watch Gabriel’s jaw tense. “Where are you going?”

  I release a breath that I had not known that I had been holding. “To the festival.”

  “Why?” he asks, and at that moment, his hard voice reminds me of my father when he drills the soldiers.

  I frown up at him, my golden eyes holding his. “Because I was asked to go.”

  Gabriel is silent for a moment, and then growls, “I forbid it.”r />
  My eyes go wide, then narrow with anger, and I drop my arm from Ckai’ten, stepping forward, but Ckai’ten holds my shoulders firmly, keeping me back. I do not fight him, but I drill my eyes into Gabriel and snarl, “Your sister sent him to me. It was by her own design that we are going.”

  “Petara?” he asks, seeming to calm a bit as he watches us both. “So you have not chosen to go?”

  I almost snarl, watching him with hatred in my eyes. “I would go even if it were not Petara’s doing. You have kept me locked in that room for weeks, and Ckai’ten wanted to go.”

  Gabriel shrugs. “If Petara wants you to go, then go. Since it seems you are not trying to seduce my guards, then there cannot be much harm.”

  I stare at him a moment, then yowl in the back of my throat, shifting a bit, ready to fight. Gabriel narrows his eyes on me, growling low in his chest, watching me. “Scarlet… no,” Ckai’ten says softly, tugging my shoulders to the shelter of his body.

  Gabriel quirks a brow at me, his eyes flicking wide—furious. “So you will answer to the guard, but not I, Cara?”

  “You will never speak my name, you cold-hearted bastard,” I snarl, and Ckai’ten tenses.

  Gabriel just smirks. “Cold-hearted, am I? How cold was I, Cara, when I was in your room, when you turned your body into mine and sighed my name?”

  I feel heat course through my blood, both rage and desire, and it is a potent mix, for I jerk away from Ckai’ten to lash out at Gabriel, but Ckai’ten grabs me, catching me unaware, practically lifting me up from the ground, one arm around my back, the other just above the bend of my knees, crushing my chest to his as his lips come down on mine. It is just enough to startle me out of my rage, and I gasp, inadvertently allowing his mouth to devour mine. And it is enough—in that moment, to take away my rage, to burn away my hatred and calm my blood. Ckai’ten cannot make my blood rush, cannot make it sing with desire and the need to touch.

  His kiss is clumsy at best, but I know that he is doing the only thing he knows that would steal my rage without redirecting it at anyone else or having to fight me. I almost laugh, smiling softly as I kiss him, allowing the world to fade away just for a moment so that my heart can return to a steady beat and my breathing calm.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Gabriel

  I am surprised to see Cara. I hoped to avoid her for the next few days. Perhaps it is unfair of me to leave her in her room. I provide her everything that she needs. I have meals brought to her and warm dresses to keep her clothed. I have servants stoke the fire and bring anything she requests. But Cara is not the sort of woman to enjoy any cage, even a gilded and diamond-studded one.

  I am sore and worn to the bone, having sparred with Claque and drilled the soldiers. Everything aches and burns, and it had been a wonderful, desperate release to get Cara off of my mind. Her taste burns my lips, and the soft sounds she had made in her throat haunt my mind, replaying them again and again.

  When I first see her, I am more startled than anything. I almost did not recognize her. No Crystalice would ever wear the bold colors that she wears, black velvet with red silk in the gaps. She is a black widow among white butterflies, and everyone knows it. She is deadly; she is dangerous. And not just to a man’s body, but to his mind. Her hair falls in curls down her shoulders, and the light from candles pours off of it in ways that imitate a fire against her skin. Her golden eyes are bright, blazing, her lips painted red—as though I did not already fight to keep her lips from my mind.

  But then I see something that does not belong. At first, I thought that Ckai’ten was escorting Cara out to the festival, keeping her out of trouble. But when I set her form to memory, I realize that they stand much too close. His hand engulfs her shoulder, his arm across her back, and her arm behind him.

  I manage to keep myself barely composed until Ckai’ten grabs her. I know that I struck a nerve in her. I know that my words shoot straight into her chest, that she would leave his hold for me, even if just to fight me. But that man snatches her from my fight and consumes her mouth with his touch, her body with his hold. I have never seen a man hold a woman so. Dena is the most scandalous I have seen for holding hands with Claque and occasionally kissing his cheek. But there is not an inch of Cara that is not pressed against this man, and my blood runs like poison. I cannot move for the longest time, my back ramrod straight, my shoulders squared, my eyes hard, narrow. After a moment, Ckai’ten finally releases her, but he keeps his arm around her, Cara unsteady at best, looking dazed, but calm.

  With as much pride as I can muster, I bow at the waist and growl, “Enjoy yourselves.” I meet her eyes, let her taste my rage, my jealousy, my own self-loathing that those thoughts even course through me. I move past them both, stiff and aching inside and out.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Scarlet

  When Ckai’ten set me down, I would have fallen straight to the floor if he did not hold me up. I look away, not certain if I would see Gabriel or not. But I do. He stands there looking like ice replaced his blood and bones, his crystal blue eyes hard and unyielding on me, filled with emotions that I have never seen in a man’s eyes before. Rage. Jealousy. And the faintest hint of hurt.

  I open my mouth to speak, but suddenly…he leaves. Turns on his heels and walks away. I watch him leave, this stiff sort of storm out of my sight. He doesn’t run. He’s much too proud to run from me, but anyone near him moves quickly out of his way. And then, he turns the corner and is gone from my sight. My lips part, only slightly, as if I might speak, and I take a step towards where Gabriel left. But I pause, and my lips close, my eyes falling. Who am I that I could console his rage? What could I possibly do? And furthermore, what concern is it of mine if the ice prince is angry? We are not even friends. We are scarcely not threats to one another, and most likely only because of my condition. I doubt that I would be so tolerant of him as I am if I had even half of my former strength. As it is…my weaknesses is a plague upon my mind as much as my body.

  “Will you come, Scarlet?” Ckai’ten is beside me, and I turn my head to look at him, smiling uneasily.

  “Indeed. Forgive my delay, friend.” I incline my head to him and he offers his arm. We say nothing of the kiss he used to keep me from attacking Gabriel. There is no need, really. We both know that it meant nothing to either of us. Or at least, I hope it meant nothing to him. I’ve no desire to remove the only friend I have here. I take the arm he offers, and he leads me out of the main doors and into the bitter cold. I gasp and recoil from the blast of chill, and Ckai’ten waits patiently at my side as I brace myself and learn how to breathe once more.

  Everything is so white and pale outside of the castle. Straight before me is the courtyard, an elegant, open structure paved with snow-covered stones. Soldiers meander about and servants move around. The stables are to my left, and I can hear the horses snorting and pacing in their stalls. It must be time to refresh the oats. Chestnut always gets anxious if his sack of oats is even a little low, as if I might somehow forget to feed him. I smile secretively. Ckai’ten begins pulling at me, however, and I return my attention to the present, letting him pull me away from the door and from the anxious and wary eyes of the Ceruleans standing nearby.

  “It is a good, clear night,” Ckai’ten says, and I look up at the black sky where white stars twinkle in their blanket of night. The sky has never been so clear to me. It is always warped by the flames of my homeland. But here, it is crisp and sharp and beautiful, and I pause to stare at it.

  Finally, I say, “Wouldn’t the Crystalice like the snow?”

  He laughs a bit, guiding me out of the courtyard and towards the cobblestone road that leads into the city. “Not any more than someone else would like to be rained on. It is nice at times, but other times it is a bother. Tonight, it would very much be a bother.”

  Absentmindedly, I reply, “We have neither rain nor snow in Inferno.”

  I try to slink back into my cloak, but my eyes move all around the city. T
hey have tall stone and ice and crystal buildings, lined up individually in rows along the streets. The main street keeps going, but there are other smaller ones as well, and they are all lined with buildings.

  “Really now? How do the Inferno grow food then?”

  I ignore the question for now and ask, “What are all of these…structures?”

  He follows my gaze to the two-story, some three-story buildings. He smiles. “Ah, these are houses,” he says. “Usually, an entire family will live there, at least until the children are old enough to marry and move out.”

  “Oh?” I ask, interested as we move down the street slowly. My nose and cheeks feel chapped, and my throat burns with cold. I do not know how long I will be able to stay out here. “So much space for one family! They must have many children to need so many rooms.”

  He laughs again, and I frown at him. “Homes are not merely for sleeping, Scarlet. These are the wealthy homes of the city. They usually have parlors and solars for entertaining company. Servants usually have their own room. They have kitchens. Some of them have music rooms or libraries or studies. Each child most likely has their own room, and the husband and wife will usually have separate rooms as well.”

  I look over at him uncertainly as we walk. “How very…odd. And wasteful.”

  He does not seem bothered and merely smiles before asking, “And how do the Inferno dwell?”

  I sigh out a warm breath, and it fogs in front of my face, startling me because there is no fog from anyone else, except perhaps a little from Ckai’ten. Coming back to my senses, I reply, “We all live together. The wealthy and powerful live within the Den. The three upper floors are all bedrooms for people to stay. If you wish to visit with someone, then you simply go to their room. We do not have different rooms for different purposes.

  “Our rooms will be lined with furs and rugs and pillows for sleeping. We will usually have shelves on the walls with books, trunks with clothes and supplies, perhaps a small desk on which to write. The castle servants are communal and do not belong to any one family. They serve the entire castle in exchange for food and board in one of the lower rooms. The lower class live within the wall surrounding the Den or in one of the small houses between the wall and the Den, usually no bigger than two rooms, and only because one is a kitchen. The homes in the wall can be small or large. There are three levels of houses, and the top ones are usually the smallest.”