The Winter King
Page 93
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“I believe you, but since it seems you are to be in my service, I must warn you. I will not tolerate thievery in future. Is that clear? You are a page to the new queen of Wintercraig. Your behavior will reflect upon me.”
The child nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent. Then for your first task, my young page, please find my maid Bella and tell her I wish to dress.”
The boy bowed and darted off. When he was gone, Lady Frey lifted a cool brow. “I’ve told you how close you came to death, Your Grace. I must insist you stay abed to recuperate. I will summon the king to ensure your compliance if I must.”
Khamsin smiled a challenge. “Lady Frey, there are two things about me you should know. First, I am far harder to kill than anyone gives me credit. My sire has been trying for years without success. I am awake and alive, which means I’ve already survived the grieving widow’s attempt. As long as I avoid vigorous activity, sunshine and fresh air should have me completely healed by dinnertime tomorrow.
“Second,” Kham leaned forward, and her smile faded, “no one—not my father, not my husband, not the Sun God himself—can make me do something I do not choose of my own will.”
Lady Frey’s expression did not change. “You are very young to make such a bold statement. Life has a way of throwing such challenges back in our faces.”
“What makes you think it hasn’t already done so many times over?”
To Kham’s surprise, the priestess’s cold mask cracked. She smiled. “Ah, now I understand why you have Wynter tied up in such knots. You are a Valkyr in the flesh. He probably can’t decide whether to protect you, battle you, or toss you on your back and fark you. Wyrn help him.”
Kham tried not to let the shock show on her face. She had Wynter tied up in knots? Was the woman serious?
“What an heir your child will make. Wynter chose well.” Still smiling, Lady Frey began to pack her things in a small, fur-lined case.
“He didn’t choose me at all.” Some perverse need to wipe the smile off Lady Frey’s face made her point that out. “He wanted one of my sisters and my fa—the Summer King tricked him into marrying me instead.”
“Did he?” Lady Frey chuckled and shook her head.
“You find that amusing? Wynter did not, I can assure you.”
“That is not what I find amusing—well, it is, but not in the way you mean.”
“Explain.”
“You say no one—not even the gods—could force you to accept something not of your own choosing. Wynter is no different, or do you not recognize your own qualities when you see them in another?”
“I—” She frowned. “He signed a treaty. He could not break it once it was signed, and our marriage was consummated.”
“My dear girl, Wynter Atrialan turned his back on our laws, the pleadings and threats of his council, centuries of taboo, and his own almost certain destruction to embrace the Ice Heart, Wintercraig’s most deadly magic. He used that forbidden magic to wreak three years of deadly vengeance on the whole of Summerlea for your brother’s crimes. He was prepared to wipe every Summerlander off the face of the earth. You were all already walking corpses so far as he was concerned. Do you honestly think something as flimsy as a signed piece of paper and a marriage ceremony would have stayed his hand had he not wanted you for his bride?”
The priestess gave a snort of disbelief and shook her head. “Wynter would have parted your head from your shoulders, taken all three of your sisters as concubines, slaughtered everyone else involved in the deception, and frozen the whole of Vera Sola on the spot. After ripping your father’s entrails from his still-living body and calling the snow wolves to feast upon them, of course.”
Kham’s throat felt strangely tight. She swallowed. “He wouldn’t have done that. Honor would have compelled him to keep the agreement.”
Lady Frey’s eyes filled with a mix of pity, irritation, and sympathy. “Honor would play no part in it. He swallowed the Ice Heart. He has used its power to the fullest for three whole years.” She stared at Kham’s blank face, then her own comprehension dawned. “You don’t know what that means, do you? He hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?”
Lady Frey closed the lid on her potions case and sat on the edge of Khamsin’s bed. “The Ice Heart is a dreadful power. Those who embrace it freeze from the inside out. Once in its grip, compassion and honor are mere things of memory, easily forgotten, just as easily foresworn. Wynter’s heart—his humanity—is freezing. He’s dying. As I told him, I’m surprised he’s lasted as long as he has. A weaker man would have succumbed long ago.” Her expression grew thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I suppose Valik deserves much of the credit. Wyn loves him like a brother.”
Kham put her hands to her head, framing her eyes and pressing her fingers hard against her temples to block out peripheral distractions and focus on what the priestess was saying. “Wynter is dying, you say. His humanity is freezing. But how has Valik been able to help him?”
“Love, child. That’s what it’s all about. Wyn is losing the capacity to love—to feel anything. And when all warm emotion is gone, the man we know as Wynter will cease to be. A monster of unimaginable power will inhabit his body—a dark god who was once a man, Rorjak, the Ice King.”
“Wyrn’s husband? The one Thorgyll slew with his spears?”
The child nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent. Then for your first task, my young page, please find my maid Bella and tell her I wish to dress.”
The boy bowed and darted off. When he was gone, Lady Frey lifted a cool brow. “I’ve told you how close you came to death, Your Grace. I must insist you stay abed to recuperate. I will summon the king to ensure your compliance if I must.”
Khamsin smiled a challenge. “Lady Frey, there are two things about me you should know. First, I am far harder to kill than anyone gives me credit. My sire has been trying for years without success. I am awake and alive, which means I’ve already survived the grieving widow’s attempt. As long as I avoid vigorous activity, sunshine and fresh air should have me completely healed by dinnertime tomorrow.
“Second,” Kham leaned forward, and her smile faded, “no one—not my father, not my husband, not the Sun God himself—can make me do something I do not choose of my own will.”
Lady Frey’s expression did not change. “You are very young to make such a bold statement. Life has a way of throwing such challenges back in our faces.”
“What makes you think it hasn’t already done so many times over?”
To Kham’s surprise, the priestess’s cold mask cracked. She smiled. “Ah, now I understand why you have Wynter tied up in such knots. You are a Valkyr in the flesh. He probably can’t decide whether to protect you, battle you, or toss you on your back and fark you. Wyrn help him.”
Kham tried not to let the shock show on her face. She had Wynter tied up in knots? Was the woman serious?
“What an heir your child will make. Wynter chose well.” Still smiling, Lady Frey began to pack her things in a small, fur-lined case.
“He didn’t choose me at all.” Some perverse need to wipe the smile off Lady Frey’s face made her point that out. “He wanted one of my sisters and my fa—the Summer King tricked him into marrying me instead.”
“Did he?” Lady Frey chuckled and shook her head.
“You find that amusing? Wynter did not, I can assure you.”
“That is not what I find amusing—well, it is, but not in the way you mean.”
“Explain.”
“You say no one—not even the gods—could force you to accept something not of your own choosing. Wynter is no different, or do you not recognize your own qualities when you see them in another?”
“I—” She frowned. “He signed a treaty. He could not break it once it was signed, and our marriage was consummated.”
“My dear girl, Wynter Atrialan turned his back on our laws, the pleadings and threats of his council, centuries of taboo, and his own almost certain destruction to embrace the Ice Heart, Wintercraig’s most deadly magic. He used that forbidden magic to wreak three years of deadly vengeance on the whole of Summerlea for your brother’s crimes. He was prepared to wipe every Summerlander off the face of the earth. You were all already walking corpses so far as he was concerned. Do you honestly think something as flimsy as a signed piece of paper and a marriage ceremony would have stayed his hand had he not wanted you for his bride?”
The priestess gave a snort of disbelief and shook her head. “Wynter would have parted your head from your shoulders, taken all three of your sisters as concubines, slaughtered everyone else involved in the deception, and frozen the whole of Vera Sola on the spot. After ripping your father’s entrails from his still-living body and calling the snow wolves to feast upon them, of course.”
Kham’s throat felt strangely tight. She swallowed. “He wouldn’t have done that. Honor would have compelled him to keep the agreement.”
Lady Frey’s eyes filled with a mix of pity, irritation, and sympathy. “Honor would play no part in it. He swallowed the Ice Heart. He has used its power to the fullest for three whole years.” She stared at Kham’s blank face, then her own comprehension dawned. “You don’t know what that means, do you? He hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?”
Lady Frey closed the lid on her potions case and sat on the edge of Khamsin’s bed. “The Ice Heart is a dreadful power. Those who embrace it freeze from the inside out. Once in its grip, compassion and honor are mere things of memory, easily forgotten, just as easily foresworn. Wynter’s heart—his humanity—is freezing. He’s dying. As I told him, I’m surprised he’s lasted as long as he has. A weaker man would have succumbed long ago.” Her expression grew thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I suppose Valik deserves much of the credit. Wyn loves him like a brother.”
Kham put her hands to her head, framing her eyes and pressing her fingers hard against her temples to block out peripheral distractions and focus on what the priestess was saying. “Wynter is dying, you say. His humanity is freezing. But how has Valik been able to help him?”
“Love, child. That’s what it’s all about. Wyn is losing the capacity to love—to feel anything. And when all warm emotion is gone, the man we know as Wynter will cease to be. A monster of unimaginable power will inhabit his body—a dark god who was once a man, Rorjak, the Ice King.”
“Wyrn’s husband? The one Thorgyll slew with his spears?”
