Snowstorm King

by H L Macfarlane

  Elina straightened up at the comment. She unclasped her cloak and hung it from the door without waiting for permission to do so; in its absence Kilian could properly see her figure in the well-fitted, dark blue dress she wore.

  Not bad at all, he thought appreciatively. Not as tall as the rest of the women in Alder. Curvier, too.

  Kilian contented himself with watching Elina scurry around his room, cleaning the hearth before throwing fresh logs into the fireplace.

  “There’s more wood in the room over there,” Kilian drawled, half-heartedly pointing to an adjoining storage room. “There’s a water reserve and bowls for filling the tub in there, too.”

  Elina remained impassive as she said, “Why would the prince regent have a storage room for such things attached to his private chambers?”

  “Because said prince regent is always cold, and likes to have firewood close at hand.”

  “So why don’t you have a fire going constantly, if you’re always cold?”

  “Because I fired the staff, or have you forgotten?”

  Elina paused. “You don’t know how to light your own fire?”

  “Why should I have to know how to do that?”

  “Well if you’re going to fire your staff it would be useful to know.”

  Kilian smiled. “Hence why you’re here.”

  Sighing, and wearing an expression that very much suggested she thought Kilian was useless, Elina got to work starting a fire. Before long she had lit a spark, then the twists of paper she’d carefully placed between the logs caught fire, then eventually the wood itself. Within minutes a proper fire was merrily burning, though it was yet to give off any proper heat.

  Wordlessly Elina moved through to the storage room to fill up a large bowl with water. When she gasped and returned with dripping wet, steaming hands, Kilian smirked.

  “Have you never felt hot water before?” he asked sardonically.

  “You have a thermal pool beneath the castle.”

  “Indeed I do. There are hot springs to the back of the castle, in fact.”

  Elina stared at her hands as if she couldn’t believe it. “Why not use the hot springs to bathe, then?”

  He couldn’t be bothered answering such a complicated question. Instead, Kilian pointed to the window. “Have you forgotten about the blizzard? Why would I wish to bathe in that?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I guess not. At least this will make filling your bath much easier.”

  “Lucky for you.”

  Elina said nothing, though she removed the top layer of her dress and rolled up the sleeves of her undershirt before continuing to fill a large bowl with water, emptying it into the bathtub before refilling it once more and repeating the action over and over again until the tub was full.

  The fire was well and truly hot by then; Kilian sighed in relief when he was finally able to feel his toes. In the flickering light he could see that Elina’s hair was not quite as dark as her magician father, whose appearance was burned onto his brain even though he tried to forget about the man. It was almost burnished – a deep, intense copper colour that Kilian had never seen before. He thought it matched Elina’s golden skin perfectly. Though she was still sodden, and her braid was a mess around her head, Kilian concluded that she really was quite lovely to look at.

  I’ve picked a good servant, he thought, eagerly stripping off his boots and clothes in order to throw himself into the scalding bath. He wasn’t expecting Elina to cry out in surprise and turn away in horror.

  “Your – Your Royal Highness! You might have given me some warning!”

  Kilian laughed as he eased himself into the water, which turned into a low moan of satisfaction as the heat seeped into his muscles. He leaned his head back to look at Elina. “What’s wrong, Elina?” he asked casually. “Have you never seen a naked man before? Or is it simply that you’ve never seen a naked prince before?”

  “I – you clearly know the answer to your question, Your Royal Highness,” she stammered, keeping her back firmly to Kilian. “You don’t even have anything to put in the bathwater! It’s completely clear.”

  He shrugged. “Why would I bother putting anything in the water? All I need it for is taking away the cold.”

  Elina risked a glance over her shoulder; Kilian was satisfied to see her face was flushed. “You cannot clean yourself properly with water only, Your Royal –”

  “You can stop it with the Your Royal Highness thing, Elina. Come over here.”

  She shook her head.

  “Come here. That’s an order.”

  Desperately looking like she wanted to protest, Elina crept towards the bathtub until she stood behind Kilian’s head. He arched his neck further to stare at her as she looked down at him. This close up, he could see that Elina did not quite share the same eye colour as her father – not as far as Kilian could remember. Her eyes were greener, and the colour seemed purer, though in the firelight it still contained a few flecks of gold which he clearly remembered the magician’s eyes having, too.

  Elina darted her eyes away uncertainly. “What is it?”

  “Comb my hair.”

  She looked as if she might object but, upon weighing up whether there would be much point, she drooped her shoulders and nodded. “Where’s your comb?”

  “By the mirror.”

  And so Elina retrieved the comb and, with obvious reluctance, slid Kilian’s hair out from beneath his head to hang over the edge of the tub.

  “There’s a chair over there that you can sit on,” he said, indicating over to his left. So Elina retrieved that, too, and sat down by Kilian’s head. She seemed to hesitate before touching his hair, but when she did he said, “And be gentle, of course. No hurting me just because you can.”

  A flash of irritation crossed her face as if she was insulted that Kilian might suggest she would do such a thing. He remained on edge until Elina ran the comb through his hair a few times, stopping when she came upon knots and tangles to carefully unravel them with deft fingers. When it became apparent that she was going to do her job properly, he relaxed.

  “You’re very good at this,” he murmured after a few minutes.

  “I’ve worked out worse tangles in the wool and thread we use in the shop,” Elina replied, voice quiet.

  And then there was only the crackle of the fire to break the silence, though Kilian did not feel the need to add to the noise. Usually the whip of the wind outside was all he could hear but, for the first time in months, the wind was calm. Kilian was warm, relaxed, and actually enjoying himself – he couldn’t remember the last time all three of those things had occurred at the same time. He wondered if he would have also enjoyed himself if he wasn’t drunk, though he didn’t care enough to find out.

  When Elina finally stopped combing his hair he opened his eyes, which Kilian had not been aware were closed in the first place. He almost said thank you.

  Almost.

  “Where do you keep your clothes?” Elina asked as she put the chair and comb back where she had found them.

  He gestured to a room adjacent to the dressing table. “In there.”

  Elina disappeared inside. For a few minutes all Kilian heard were the sounds of her rummaging through his things; he wondered what she was doing. When she returned carrying a fine, woollen shirt and long, soft leggings before laying them on the bed he frowned.

  “What are those for?”

  “Wear them to bed. They’ll keep you warm.”

  He stared at the clothes incredulously. “They’re so thin. I don’t believe you.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You have nothing to lose by listening to me.”

  “I guess not,” he replied, sinking beneath the water until it only just reached his hairline. When he resurfaced Elina looked away quickly. He grinned slyly. “How can you be so embarrassed by a naked body? How old are you?”

  “…twenty.”

  “Ah, of course. That makes sense, what with the magician and all. So you’re a
twenty-year-old woman – two years past marrying age – and you’re still this innocent?”

  She bristled. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself to the likes of you.”

  “The likes of me?” Kilian parroted back in interest. “Tell me, Elina, what do you mean by that?”

  “I – you know what I mean, clearly. Otherwise you wouldn’t keep looking at me the way you do, like I’m an object.”

  Huh. She’s sharper than I thought.

  “I guess that’s true. In which case I apologise.”

  “That doesn’t sound sincere at all.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “So you won’t accept even a semblance of an apology from me, despite the fact I’m the ruler of this land?”

  Elina winced as she slid back into the outer layer of her dress and retrieved her cloak, which was stiff and dark with water. “You’re the one who doesn’t want me to call you Your Royal Highness. Something tells me the last thing you want is for me to treat you like a king or regent or anything remotely similar.”

  And then she opened the door and left without another word, though Kilian had not given her leave to go. Indeed, it was barely mid-afternoon. Yet he allowed it, for it was the boldest move anyone had made against him in a long, long time.

  Hours later, when Kilian retired to bed, he decided to humour Elina’s whims and dress in the clothes she had picked out. They felt thin and insubstantial; he prepared himself for a long, sleepless, freezing night beneath the covers.

  Instead he fell asleep within minutes, as warm as if he were still in the bath, Elina combing his hair.

  Chapter Five

  Elina

  “The prince finally granted you an audience?!”

  “That’s certainly one way to put it,” Elina grimaced as she shed off every layer of her sodden clothing and slid into the bath her mother had prepared. She thought of Kilian’s on-demand hot water supply with envy.

  Lily Brodeur stared at her daughter, eyes bright with interest. “What do you mean by that? How did it go?”

  “I…mama, how could that man be our king?”

  Her mother laughed lightly. “So he really is still that bad-tempered. I always hoped he’d grow out of it. At least he won’t be ruling for long.”

  “You talk as if you know him.”

  “I made clothes for Kilian and Gabriel once, back before I knew I was pregnant with you,” she smiled. “Well, I helped my father make them. I went with him to the castle to deliver them. Gabriel was every inch the young prince – so elegant and composed – and he was only eight! But little Kilian was not quite four, and I had never met a child so tempestuous. He threw the clothes I made him in the fire!”

  Elina gawked at her mother. “That can’t possibly be a true story.”

  “Oh, but it is, I assure you. I wonder if he remembers?”

  “He didn’t seem to recognise my surname,” Elina said, “though he was drunk, so that might explain it.”

  Lily looked at her in concern. “So what happened? You tried so hard to speak with him – I somehow doubt my daughter would leave without succeeding at what she sought out to do.”

  The comment warmed Elina’s heart for a moment, though it was instantly doused as she explained her deal with the cruel, obnoxious sham of a ruler that was Kilian Hale. She watched as shock, disbelief and concern darkened her mother’s pale face, grimly certain that she would try to talk her daughter out of her deal with the proverbial devil.

  “Elina, you can’t possibly –”

  “It’s only until winter passes,” Elina spoke over her mother quickly. “Alder needs the supplies, mama. And we need Alder. We’ll die along with everyone else if we don’t get the help we need to get through the next few months.”

  Lily looked away from her daughter, discomfited. “I don’t like it, Elina. If Kilian truly is as unreasonable as he seems then he might well simply be taking advantage of you with no intention of helping us at all.”

  “I have to at least try, mama. If, after two weeks, he still hasn’t sent any provisions, I’ll tell him the deal is off.”

  “He doesn’t sound like the kind of man who would let you do that.”

  Elina sighed as she got out of the bathtub and towelled herself dry. “What would you have me do?”

  “We could leave.”

  Lily’s voice was very quiet as she stared at the fire currently roaring in the hearth. Elina shrugged on a shirt and some trousers and sat by her mother, inspecting her face. Her pallor was sickly and almost green, and her hands shook slightly. She was growing weaker by the day. A knot tightened in Elina’s stomach at the unimaginable thought that her mother would not last the winter.

  “Maybe when winter passes and your health returns,” Elina said, forcing a smile onto her face. She unravelled the braid from around her head – her hair was still wet from the snow – and combed it through until she’d worked through the tangles in her wavy hair.

  She was starkly reminded of combing Kilian’s hair mere hours ago, though she didn’t want to think about him. Once Elina had unpicked the knots, Kilian’s hair had been lustrous, soft and shiny. It was paler than the blonde hair of the people of Alder, just as his eyes were paler, too. It was almost as if he were made of ice himself.

  That would explain his callous attitude, Elina thought as she rebraided her hair, letting it hang down her back like a rope as she laced on a pair of dry boots and a dark green cloak that had belonged to her grandfather.

  “Where are you going, Elina?” her mother sputtered in surprise. She coughed several times into her hands, taking a few ragged breaths before continuing. “You only just got back. And your hair is still wet.”

  She glanced out of the window. “I want to stop by the apothecary whilst the weather is still calm. I won’t be long, don’t worry.”

  As she had done with Kilian, Elina left without another word. Outside the snow was still falling, but it was soft and gentle and almost pleasant. It had been like that since Elina had combed Kilian’s hair in the bath, flying through the air almost silently outside his window.

  Don’t think about him in that bath. Elina’s face grew warm despite the cold, and she shook her head to clear it of her thoughts. She struggled along the ice-encrusted road until, with some relief, she reached the apothecary.

  It was closed.

  “Of course,” she said aloud, watching her breath form a tiny cloud in front of her face. She couldn’t go home without buying more medicine for her mother – their stocks were too low, and the way her mother was now Elina highly doubted she would get much sleep.

  Maybe Erik or his wife are in the tavern, she thought, heading towards the establishment despite the fact she hated the place. Elina had never been welcome there; even when she had visited with her mother and grandparents as a child she had been shunned. It was the worst place to be ignored, surrounded by people having a good time. Enjoying themselves. Living in a world in which they pretended Elina did not exist.

  And yet she pushed through the door of Gill’s tavern despite all of that, because her mother’s health was more important than her pride. Everybody looked at her as she walked across the bar, looking for Erik, the apothecary. Nobody asked her about how she was faring trying to broker a deal with Kilian.

  She could tell by their faces they all hoped she would fail, even though their livelihoods depended on her succeeding.

  They can go to hell, Elina thought as she concluded that neither Erik nor his wife were in the tavern. But then she caught sight of something unusual: black hair. Long, lustrous, wavy black hair. When the head of the woman whose hair it belonged to turned Elina saw one of the most beautiful people she had ever set eyes upon.

  When she smiled at her, Elina looked down at the floor. “You stand out almost as much as me and Adrian,” the woman said. Her voice was low and musical; lilting. “Won’t you sit with us?”

  “I – can I?”

  She laughed softly. “Of course! You seem just about as welcome as us in he
re. Won’t you tell us your name?” She indicated to the man standing behind her, who was looking for an available table. He flashed Elina a grin that she could only describe as wolfish. He had the strangest eyes she had ever seen – amber, like a sunset.

  “Elina. I’m Elina Brodeur,” Elina found herself saying, still enraptured by the two incredibly attractive people in front of her.

  “I’m Scarlett Duke,” the woman said, “and this idiot is Adrian Wolfe. Adrian, can’t you find a table?”

  The man named Adrian shook his handsome head. “There are none to be found. I guess we’re eating up in our room. Miss Brodeur, who were you looking for when you entered the tavern?”

  She was surprised by the man’s observation; had the strangers been watching her since she entered the place?

  “Um…the apothecary,” she said. “My mother is sick.”

  A flash of concern crossed Scarlett’s face. “What ails her?”

  “It’s her lungs, for the most part. But she’s always been frail. The cold has affected her badly this winter.”

  Scarlett glanced at Adrian. “How much stock do we have left?”

  “Enough,” he said. “Miss Brodeur, if you don’t mind accompanying us up to our room I think we can help you.”

  Elina followed them numbly without really thinking. She wasn’t used to people talking to her outside of the shop, and even then all conversation was kept short and professional. The only other stranger who’d talked to her this much was Kilian Hale, and he didn’t count, because Elina wished he didn’t exist.

  When they reached the room Scarlett rummaged through a large trunk of vials, bottles and boxes that Elina would never have been able to make heads nor tails of.

  “Let’s see…” Scarlett murmured. “We have some eucalyptus oil from Asia – that’ll help with your mother’s breathing – and, let’s see…peppermint, thyme and ginger for coughing and fever, and…oh! Powdered willow bark, for pain relief.” She dumped several items in Elina’s arms without warning. “Brew the herbs as a tea and sweeten it with honey. Don’t let her take more than one finger joint’s worth of willow bark in a given five hour period. You can put some eucalyptus oil in your mother’s bathwater or add it to some boiling water and have her breathe in the steam. You can also pour a few drops on her pillow, to ease her sleep.”