Crystal Kingdom

by Amanda Hocking

  They’ll need to escape soon, but with the Omte guard around now, it will be even harder than before. Fortunately, the Queen doesn’t seem to have noticed that Tilda has escaped yet. Tilda’s parents are covering for her, saying she’s on bed rest with the baby, anytime anybody asks about her. I think her parents and I are the only ones that really know where she is.

  As soon as I see a break in the defenses, I think I’ll get my parents and your parents out of here. It’s getting too dangerous. The Queen already turned on the Skojare. It won’t be much longer before she singles my family out for being Trylle. We’ve always had the advantage of blending in better than you and your mom did, but nobody really blends in in Doldastam anymore.

  Everyone is suspect.

  I shouldn’t even be writing these letters to you. If the wrong person reads this, I could end up in the dungeon, just for telling the truth about what’s going on around here. To be safe, I’m even writing this in the wee hours of the morning, before the sun comes up. But you can never be too safe in Doldastam anymore.

  I think this will be the last letter I write you. I have too much to do here. I can’t risk getting caught over something silly like this. Besides, I’m not even sure if you’ll ever be able to read these.

  Until I see you again—

  Ember

  FORTY-SIX

  torment

  The meeting with Lisbet, Baltsar, Konstantin, Ridley, and I had gone on rather late into the night, and I’d been very relieved when I was finally able to go to my room. I had fantasies about falling asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

  But, even as exhausted as I was, sleep could be a cruel mistress, and it eluded me. I tossed and turned, and spent most of the night staring up at the water spot on the ceiling above my bed.

  The grandeur of the exterior of the Skojare palace was misleading. Even though the guest rooms had an air of luxury to them—fine linens, elegant furnishings, even the exterior glass wall that bowed out in the lake—the reality inside was quite different.

  A bedroom underwater was cold and smelled musty. The wallpaper in the halls was peeling, the tiles were warped, and I spotted a tuft of mold growing in the corner.

  The dark water of the lake kept out most of the sunlight during the day, but somehow, even with the waning moon in the night sky, it managed to create an odd glowing sensation in the room. Like being in an aquarium, with the shadows of the moving water dancing across the ceiling.

  Eventually I decided that I couldn’t be the only one having trouble sleeping. I slid out of bed, and the tiles felt like ice on my bare feet.

  Since I was still traveling with my thrift shop clothing, I didn’t have much in the way of pajamas. I’d gone to bed in an oversized T-shirt with a kraken attacking a ship on it. The neck hole had been stretched out, so it kept slipping off my shoulder, exposing more of my skin to the cold.

  I stuck my head out into the hall, and when I saw no guards in the vicinity, I crept out. Tilda’s room was directly on the other side of mine, but I figured that between the pregnancy and brutally attacking a guy today, she probably needed her rest.

  Instead, I made a beeline for Ridley’s room farther down the hall. We’d hardly had a moment alone together since he’d arrived in Förening, and we needed to talk. There was something strange going on with him, and I had to find out what it was.

  Slowly, I opened the door and peered around it. Ridley’s room was a mirror image of mine, with the glass wall casting that bluish glow through it. Even though it was dim, I could easily see that the bed was messy, like it had been slept in, but it was empty.

  I stepped farther into the room, scanning for Ridley, when suddenly someone grabbed me and threw me roughly against the wall, slamming my back into it. Within a second of me entering his room, Ridley had jumped out from behind the door, thrown me into the wall, and pinned me there with his body and his hand around my throat.

  “Dammit, Bryn,” he whispered when he realized it was me, and let go. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “You’re the one that attacked me,” I said in a hushed voice.

  “Sorry.” He stepped back from me. “I heard someone sneaking around outside, and I thought it might be one of Viktor’s men tracking me or something. I’m just jumpy.”

  “Viktor’s men usually sneak into your room wearing oversized T-shirts?” I asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

  “I don’t know how they’ll come for me.” Ridley’s voice was low and somber, and his expression was a dark mask, hiding his normally handsome, playful face.

  He stood shirtless across from me, wearing loose black pajama pants. They hung low on his waist, revealing the sharp ridges of muscles just above his hips and a thin trail of hair that started just above his pelvis and ran downward.

  Part of me was aware of how sexy Ridley looked and how badly I wanted to pull him close to me. But the other part was all too aware of the gulf between us, and how it only seemed to grow wider and darker with each passing moment.

  I rubbed my neck where he’d grabbed me and looked away from him.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked and moved closer to me. His hand was on my wrist, angling my arm back so he could get a better look at my throat. And his face tilted down, so close to mine, as he studied me.

  I watched him—the way his hair fell over his forehead, his heavy lashes, his wonderful lips, the stubble on his cheek—as he touched me gingerly, and all I wanted was to be with him. To kiss him and feel him close to me again.

  Instead, I whispered, “I’m fine.”

  He lifted his eyes to meet mine. “You sure?”

  I nodded, and that was when I realized his neck had fully healed. The skin had been torn raw by the chain, and he’d been left with awful, thick bruises. But now it all looked normal.

  “Your neck is better,” I said in surprise.

  “Lisbet had a healer fix it up. She wants me in top condition for the impending war.”

  He hadn’t moved back from me, and his hand lingered on my wrist. His fingers were strong and warm on my skin, and I loved the way it felt when he touched me.

  A heat burned in the pit of my stomach, a longing so intense it made my heart ache. Being so close to him, being able to touch him, but not really, not really hold him close to me, was killing me.

  I looked down, really looking at him up close for the first time, and I noticed ridges on his chest and arms. They were perfectly straight raised bumps, half an inch thick and several inches long.

  Without thinking, I reached out to touch one, and Ridley flinched and pulled back from me.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  He turned his back to me and shook his head. “It didn’t hurt. When the healer fixed my neck, she healed those up too.”

  “What are they? What happened?”

  “I just don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Ridley.” I moved closer to him. I lifted my hand, meaning to put it on his back, but I was afraid he’d flinch again, so I let it fall to my side. “Please stop shutting me out. What happened in Doldastam after I left?”

  He looked at me over his shoulder. “Can you pretend like nothing happened in Doldastam? Can we just forget about it? At least for tonight?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “I do.”

  Ridley turned to face me, and held out his hand to me. I hesitated for a moment, but then I took it and let him pull me into his arms. For a moment, when I lay my head against his bare chest, with his arms strong and sure around me, I closed my eyes and tried to pretend that it was the way things were before.

  But there was a stiffness in his muscles, a resistance that hadn’t been there before.

  “Even though you’re right here, in my arms, you still feel so far away,” I murmured, and saying it aloud hurt so much I could barely speak. “I can’t do this.”

  “What?” Ridley asked, sounding startled as I pulled away from him and stepped back.

&
nbsp; “I can’t do this. I want to be with you, but only if you’re actually here with me. I don’t know what’s going on with you or with us.” I swallowed hard. “I can’t keep doing this if you won’t let me in.”

  He lowered his eyes and didn’t say anything. I waited, hoping that he would finally say something real to me. But he didn’t, so I turned and started walking away.

  “Mina captured me as soon as I came back in the gates,” Ridley said when I reached the door, his voice strong but flat. “The guards hauled me off in front of everyone with my arms in shackles.”

  I faced him, with my hand still on the door. His mouth twisted up as he spoke, and he kept his eyes locked on the floor.

  “She tied me to a rack,” he said thickly. “That’s a medieval torture device. They tie you up by each one of your limbs, and then they pull. Slowly. Agonizingly slow.” He motioned to his arms. “But that wasn’t enough. Mina burned me—holding hot pokers to my flesh.”

  That explained the ridges on his arms, the ones I’d touched earlier.

  “The worst part about it all,” he said, shaking his head, “she never asked me anything. I wouldn’t have told her, but she didn’t even ask. She wasn’t torturing me to find anything out—she was doing it because she could.”

  “Ridley,” I breathed. I went over to him and reached out to touch his face. He leaned into my palm and closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, Bryn, don’t be sorry.” He put his hand over mine. “Don’t ever be sorry. Not about this.”

  “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything.” He lowered his hand, then stepped back, away from me, so I let my arm drop to my side. “It’s late, and we have a long day tomorrow. You should probably head back to your room and get some sleep.”

  Startled by the abruptness, I didn’t say anything at first. Then I nodded slowly and turned to leave Ridley standing alone in his room, wondering if I had failed him so much that we would never be able to reconcile again.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  offense

  “That’s not good enough!” Tilda barked, standing over a sweaty Skojare guard.

  I’d been sparring with a different guard, but I stopped what I was doing to look over at her. For training today, she’d done her best to look every bit the part of a captain. Her hair was pulled back in a smooth ponytail, and she’d even gotten her hands on a frosty blue Skojare uniform. It fit her well, except that the jacket had to be left open to compensate for her growing belly.

  Baltsar had set us up in the ballroom of the palace, since it had the most space. It was an opulent round room with white marble floors. Above us, the ceiling was domed glass, making this one of the few places I’d seen in the Storvatten palace that let in natural light.

  The wallpaper had this magical quality, with a pale bluish sheen and a silver design etched into it, but when you looked at it, it seemed to move, like waves on the water. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Every twenty feet or so, the wallpaper was broken up with a marble half pillar.

  Baltsar and Ridley had organized the training today, separating the guards into groups based on their experience. Since taking his position a few weeks ago, Baltsar had already begun to rework the guard and hired thirty new recruits. On top of that, with the threat of war, many commoners and even a few of the royals had volunteered to join the makeshift army being built.

  Tilda had been tasked with commanding the group of new recruits and volunteers, and she was running them through their paces like a drill sergeant. When they’d first been assigned to her, I’d heard the recruits snickering about how easy they’d gotten it because she was pregnant and a girl. None of them were snickering now.

  At the back of the room, Baltsar was commanding his troop. While Tilda focused on more basic endurance and strength training, just trying to get them into proper physical condition, Baltsar was working on sword skills, while Ridley focused on hand-to-hand fighting.

  For the most part, Konstantin and I just floated around, sparring with people and helping to show them proper form as needed. Right now Konstantin was standing with Ridley, discussing what to work on next, while Ridley’s group ran laps around the ballroom.

  Ridley had asked for Konstantin’s opinion on several things today in regard to training, and that made sense since Konstantin had a lot of experience as a tracker, a guard, and practical application in real life. Since Förening, the two had seemed to get along well, and Ridley appeared to trust Konstantin’s judgment.

  I’d had no input on what was happening today. Konstantin, Ridley, and Tilda actually all outranked me (discounting the fact that Konstantin and I had been exiled, of course). But that meant that while Ridley, Tilda, and Baltsar had to dress in uniforms like commanding officers, and the four of them had to worry and decide what everyone needed to focus on, I just got to get down and dirty.

  I was in my tank top and yoga pants, sweating and fighting with whomever I could. And honestly, it felt amazing. In the chaos of everything around me, training in the gym was the one area I could always count on. This was the first time in a long time I’d had a chance to really work off all the aggression I had about feeling so powerless against Mina and Viktor Dålig.

  So today, as I punched another one of Tilda’s recruits in the jaw, I couldn’t help but smile. It felt great to be back.

  “Bryn!” Tilda shouted. “You’re not supposed to be making contact, remember? This is just training. You don’t want to break all the soldiers before they go to battle.”

  “Right. Sorry. I got a little overzealous.” I waved at her, but by the look in her eyes, I knew that wasn’t good enough.

  She walked over to me, the trainees parting around her. “That’s the fourth time I’ve called you out on it. We’ve been going at this all day. Why don’t you take five?”

  “No, I’m good. I don’t need it.”

  “Bryn.” She looked at me severely, and I realized it wasn’t a suggestion. “Take a break.”

  “Fine,” I said because there was no point in arguing with her.

  I apologized to the guy I’d hit, then I turned and walked away. I tried not to storm off, despite my irritation. But both Konstantin and Ridley turned to look back at me, their eyes questioning. I just forced a smile and hurried on my way.

  At the end of the ballroom were two large doors, and I pushed them both with my hands as hard as I could, blowing off a bit of steam. They flew open, and I heard a deep voice rumble in pain.

  As the doors swung closed, I looked over to see that I had hit someone with the door. He straightened up, looking down at me with dazzling blue eyes, the thin gills under his jawline flaring when he exhaled. The chandelier directly above us was out, and his broad shoulders cast an ominous shadow over me from the light at the end of the hall.

  It was the newly reappointed King, Mikko Biâelse. This was the first time I’d seen him since I’d been implicated in his younger brother’s death, and he did not look happy to see me.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  confrontation

  “Bryn Aven,” Mikko said in a voice that rumbled like thunder. Linnea had once told me that Mikko was painfully shy, and I found that so strange. With his striking good looks, rather imposing size, and a voice like Odin, I’d never met anybody else who had a presence like his. He looked like he’d been created to be King.

  I swallowed hard before replying with, “Your Highness,” and bowing.

  “There’s no need for that.” He looked uncomfortable for a moment, then folded his arms over his chest. “I heard that I have you to thank for my freedom.”

  “I … I, uh, that was more Marksinna Lisbet,” I stammered in surprise. His words sounded kind, but he looked like he wouldn’t mind snacking on my bones for breakfast.

  “She said that you swayed Baltsar into action,” he said. “While I was incarcerated, Linnea told me that you never stopped believing in me and fighting for my innocence. She insisted that you we
re our greatest ally.”

  “I…” I didn’t know how to reply to that. It was an exaggeration, but there was some truth to it, so I said simply, “I just did what I thought was right, sire.”

  “It’s unfortunate how rare it is to find someone who will do what’s right.”

  He turned his attention toward the ballroom doors. A sliver of bright light spilled through the thin gap between the doors into the darkness of the hall, making a line across Mikko’s face as he peered inside. Even out in the hall, Tilda could easily be heard, shouting her commands.

  The King had apparently come to watch his new army training, and with his attention back on that and off me, now would be a perfect time for me to slip away. I could go down the hall, get a drink of water, and cool off.

  But I hesitated, and it caused him to look back at me. “Is there something I can do for you, Bryn?”

  “I wanted to say that I’m sorry about your brother,” I said finally.

  He sighed heavily. “So am I.” His normally hard expression softened, disillusionment and sadness wearing down on his features. “And I’m sorry that you got pulled into that mess. Linnea filled me in on what happened, and I appreciate you acting as honorably as you did.”

  “Thank you,” I said, stunned to hear Mikko actually thanking me for my involvement in his brother’s death.

  “I do wish that Kennet had been able to come to me with his concerns instead of taking matters to into his own hands.” He turned his eyes to the ceiling, and his exasperation gave way to anger. “But that’s my father’s doing. He always said that a real man would take what he wanted. Kennet was kinder than that, or at least he would’ve been without Father’s influence.”

  From what I understood, Mikko and Kennet’s father, the late King Rune, was not a good man. My mom had bordered on calling him a sadist. He had hoarded sapphires and let the palace and the kingdom fall into disrepair. He’d been more focused on maintaining his wealth than the welfare of anyone, including his own children.