Shadow Frost (Shadow Frost Trilogy Book 1)

by Coco Ma

  Asterin stared openly at her. “Your queen is omnifinitied?”

  Rose’s lips quirked at her obvious interest. “Indeed. Behold the omnistone.” She held out a small silk pouch, the same forest green as her cloak. “If it helps you like it did our queen, perhaps you could allow yourself to trust us a little more.”

  Eadric stepped forward, but Asterin held up a hand. She could handle this herself. She took the pouch, pulled its drawstrings open, and peered within. The stone rested at the bottom, a round teardrop the size of an eye and as clear as water. So small and unassuming, she thought, and slipped it out. She inhaled sharply as it rolled into her palm, the world dipping violently beneath her feet. Her eyes widened, her blood flowing with an electricity she had never before experienced. She could feel the stone’s power, thrumming in her palms like the wings of a hummingbird. “What—”

  Suddenly, Rose’s cousin was at her shoulder, a featherlight hand on her waist to steady her. “If I told you the omnistone could unlock all your affinities,” he murmured into her ear, voice as soft as velvet midnight, “would you let it?”

  Her lips parted. She wouldn’t have believed him, if not for the overwhelming magic radiating from the stone. She had tried for years to unlock another element. Garringsford’s words taunted her constantly. It’s always difficult admitting failure. She imagined how far the general’s jaw would drop and how proud her mother would be if she proved Garringsford wrong. She wanted it so badly that she could taste it. Asterin clutched the stone harder and gave him a nod.

  Rose’s cousin placed his other hand over hers and entwined their fingers, trapping the stone between their palms. Asterin resisted a shiver, the firm planes of his chest grazing intimately against her back. “By the way,” he said, “this might hurt a bit.”

  Eadric’s eyes widened. “Wait, hold on—”

  “A lot,” Rose corrected. “Ready?”

  “What?” Eadric squawked. “Now? Here? Your Highness, this isn’t a good idea—”

  Asterin ignored him. “What do I have to do?”

  “Nothing. Just trust me,” that midnight voice whispered again, his grip tightening on her waist. Before she could reply, his hands grew hot, like coals. “Helt Avsloradovion.”

  The unfamiliar incantation sent a wave of shudders roiling through Asterin’s whole body. Her vision flared white and her knees buckled. The scent of smoke and cold mountain air enveloped her as she sank into the warmth of his waiting arms, and then everything went black.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When Asterin fainted in the hooded Eradorian’s arms, Eadric panicked. He drew his sword in an instant, fully prepared to start slitting throats. “What have you done?”

  Boots thudded up the staircase. Three guards had spotted them from the concourse and rushed over to investigate. Rose’s cousin adjusted Asterin so that her face was hidden in his shoulder.

  “Fletcher,” Eadric hissed.

  The damned girl only raised her brows pointedly at the guards.

  “What’s going on here?” a bald one demanded.

  Eadric gritted his teeth, sheathing his sword. “Leave us,” he told them, not recognizing any of their faces. He eyed the badges on their dark sleeves. Pups, fresh out of training. They continued staring dubiously at him, oblivious to his rank. Eadric concluded that they were either blind or stupid—he was wearing full uniform, for the love of the Immortals. He stepped closer, lips inches from the bald guard’s ear. “That was not a request, soldier.” The man frowned, opening his mouth to protest, when Eadric shut him up with a snarled, “That was an order.”

  The man flinched. “Yes, sir.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  All three of the soldiers paled with realization. In unison, they squeaked, “Yes, Captain!”

  “You will not speak of this to anyone, not even your superiors. Should you disobey, I will know.”

  They nearly tripped over themselves in their haste to flee to their stations.

  He watched them go, perturbed. So General Garringsford is enlisting soldiers without my approval. While the general—and only the general—did rank higher than him, protocol dictated that new recruits had to receive approval from both of them prior to entering the palace division.

  “Captain, hm?” Rose said, interrupting his thoughts. She leaned against the banister, looking for all the world as if she owned the place. She tilted her head approvingly, those gold eyes catching the light.

  Eadric’s fists clenched. But he knew how to play the game, so he coaxed them loose. “Captain Eadric Covington, commander of the Elite Royal Guard.” He leaned forward, gaze cold and a lazy smile on his lips. “I would say I’m at your service, but you’re at mine.”

  Rose blinked at him, taken aback. “Uh. I—” She broke off as Asterin, still in the other Eradorian’s arms, suddenly twitched awake and let out a pigeon-like coo.

  Eadric hurried over. “Your Highness! Are you all right?”

  She raised a hand to pat his cheek. “Soft, but needs a shave.”

  He stared incredulously and whirled on Rose. To hell with the game. “What … what have you done?”

  Rose cringed. “I’m told that the effects of the stone can be a little disorienting.”

  “Does toast count as a vegetable since it’s made from grain and grain is a plant?” Asterin asked.

  “Just a little?” Eadric deadpanned.

  “I’ll prepare a tonic for her,” Rose said. “She needs to sleep.” Without another word, she headed up the grand stairway.

  “Where in hell do you think you’re going?” Eadric spluttered.

  Rose halted and turned, eyes wide. “Oh my, you’re right. I almost forgot about Her Highness. Cousin dearest, if you’d please …”

  ‘Cousin dearest’ had already scooped Asterin into his arms as if she were no heavier than a child, but Eadric knew from firsthand experience that one needed more than a little muscle to carry the princess. Asterin herself had fallen into a doze, nuzzling into her transporter’s chest.

  The situation was wildly spinning out of control. “The princess is not meant to be handled like a sack of flour,” he growled.

  A grunt from beneath the hood. “Who holds a sack of flour like this? Would you prefer to carry her? Hold on, don’t answer that, of course you would. Listen, Captain Covington—if you can’t even trust me to carry the princess up the stairs, how can you trust me to protect her as an Elite?”

  Eadric found he had nothing to say to that. By the time he regained his verbal capabilities, Rose and her cousin were already two flights up and continuing to ascend with frightening speed. Who in the name of the almighty Immortals were these people? All the same … Taking the steps three at a time, he called out, “Stop!”

  Rose peered over the banister, gold eyes burning with challenge. “What now?”

  He caught up to them on the landing and pointed down the corridor. “Fourth floor. Her chambers are on this floor.”

  The two guards that Eadric had told off earlier were notably absent from their posts. Luna opened the door on the second knock, her eyes lighting up when they settled onto him. Since the first moment they had met—or at least, the first time she had passed him by, Asterin hanging off her arm and howling with laughter, his stomach always kicked into flutters—then and now. He still remembered that sweet smile, blossoming at the end of whatever joke she had told to cause the princess to dissolve into stitches, still remembered the way she had curled a tendril of honey-gold hair behind her ear and glanced toward him, blue eyes sparkling brighter than a Cyejin sky.

  Now, that same forget-me-not gaze shifted, landing on the two Eradorians, and of course Asterin, mouth lolling open. After a long silence, Luna turned on him, wrath blazing across her features. “Did you let this happen?”

  Rose grinned. “He sure did! Mind if we come in?” The girl shouldered her way through w
ithout waiting for an answer, tugging her cousin and Asterin along with her, and that was that.

  “You, mister,” Luna said, eyes narrowed, jabbing a finger into his chest, “are in big trouble.” Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed off into Asterin’s chambers.

  Eadric just threw his hands up into the air in defeat.

  Asterin woke to a grogginess beyond comprehension. She flinched as light seeped through her eyelids and she cursed the pain that stabbed through her temple.

  One glimpse at her surroundings told her that she was in her own chambers, tucked snug into bed. Craning her neck, she spotted the figure sprawled in the armchair beside her. “Luna?” she croaked.

  The girl turned her head sleepily, before shooting out of the chair. “You’re awake!” she cried. Asterin winced. “Oh, sorry.” Much quieter, she asked, “How are you feeling?”

  A soft groan escaped Asterin’s lips. “Like I’ve been run over by a wagon.”

  Luna fluffed the pillows and stroked her hair. “Poor thing. Don’t worry, I yelled at Eadric already.”

  “For what?” Asterin said. “Wait …” It all came rushing back. The Eradorians, the omnistone—

  The door to her bathing chamber swung open before she could finish her thought. Rose strode through. “Oh, good, you’re awake. Thought I heard voices.” Already she wore the black, high-collared jacket of the Elite uniform, silver epaulettes decorating her shoulders and the Axarian crest embroidered above her heart. A red stripe ran down the right side of her simple black trousers. She only lacked the signature crimson cloak, but she wouldn’t receive it until Asterin and Eadric deemed her worthy.

  Asterin shot the golden-eyed girl a weak glare. How long had she been out? “You can’t just barge in here like this. And what were you doing in my bathroom?”

  A glowering young man trailed into the room after Rose, and when his dark eyes pinned sharply onto Asterin, her breath hitched.

  Her first thought was that one of Luna’s sculptures had come to life—broad-shouldered, toned forearms revealed by sleeves rolled to the elbows. His features were chiseled into a face of ivory, contrasted by the locks of dark brown falling across his forehead, artfully tousled as if he had just returned from a windy autumn stroll. High cheekbones swept down to lips soft and pink as sin with an angular jaw and—Immortals, she could have stared at him all day.

  Her face grew hot as he surveyed her in turn. When he stepped closer, she fell into the bottomless depths of his eyes, a fierce, intense indigo flecked with starlight.

  She descended into a coughing fit.

  One of his dark brows arched. After she gave a last, pitiful cough, he opened his mouth to speak. She leaned forward in anticipation, and for a moment, time seemed to slow.

  And then—

  “You’re bloody heavy for a dainty little princess.”

  Asterin gaped in outrage, shocked beyond words. And then she realized she recognized that midnight voice. Rose’s cousin. The one who had held her and—oh, Immortals, had he carried her up the stairs?

  “And you’re spectacularly rude,” she finally stammered out. And spectacularly handsome, but still a total ass. It made sense why he had kept his hood up now. If any of the court ladies had laid eyes on him, they would have long torn him to carrion.

  He smirked. “My apologies. I only thought to be honest with Your Highness.”

  Asterin narrowed her eyes. “How very considerate of you, erm …?”

  Rose suddenly piped up. “Dear me, I’ve still yet to introduce him, haven’t I?” She threw her arms in his direction in a grand flourish. “Princess Asterin, meet my most beloved cousin, Quinnie.”

  Despite herself, Asterin snickered. After all that suspense … “Your name is Quinnie? No wonder you didn’t want to tell us.”

  Quinnie scowled deeply. Asterin found herself taking great satisfaction in his displeasure. “Quinlan,” he corrected. “Quinlan Holloway.”

  “Is that really much of an improvement?” Luna said.

  Asterin suppressed a giggle. Then some fragment of recognition flickered through her and her eyes narrowed. “Holloway … I’ve heard that name before.”

  Quinlan shrugged. “From my father, most likely.”

  “Your father?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t elaborate further.

  “Well, anyway,” Rose said to Asterin. “I’ve arduously prepared a tonic for your pretty little head, if you’d like to have it.”

  “I’d like to have your pretty little head on a stake,” Asterin grumbled under her breath.

  But apparently she hadn’t grumbled quietly enough, because Quinlan burst out laughing. “Oh, I like her.”

  Rose pouted. “Who’s the rude one now?”

  “You are aware that I could have you locked up at my wishes, no?” Asterin said, only half-joking.

  “Ah,” said Rose with a grin. “Diplomacy at its finest. Fine, I surrender.” She handed over a small vial filled with a reddish-orange substance.

  Asterin uncorked it, sniffing suspiciously. “It’s not poisonous, is it?”

  Rose gave her a playful wink. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  “She really would, you know,” Quinlan said. An uncomfortable silence ensued. Sheepishly, he added, “It’s not, though. Obviously.”

  “That wasn’t terribly reassuring,” Asterin said, but nonetheless, she sent a short prayer to the Immortals and tipped the contents down her throat. Her mouth filled with the taste of fresh summer berries and sun-warmed grass. Her headache had already begun to fade as she drained the last droplets, leaving her tastebuds with a pleasant tingle.

  Rose took the empty vial from her. “Luna, darling, please look after her. The tonic will make her sleep like a rock, but she’ll be fine in the morning.”

  Asterin found that hilarious and began giggling. “I’m a rock.”

  Luna sighed and eased Asterin back onto the pillows. “Whatever you did better be worth all of this.”

  “No!” Asterin cried out. “I’m not tired.”

  Before Luna could reply, Quinlan sat himself on the edge of Asterin’s bed and brushed aside the hair from her damp forehead with a sly grin. “Just close your eyes, brat.” She could do nothing but stare, transfixed by his dimples. Then, to her dazed astonishment, he took a breath and began to sing. Her eyelids fluttered shut, fatigue sweeping over her like a heavy blanket. She drifted on the verge of sleep for a minute, clinging to the gentle melody for as long as she could, until at last she succumbed to an endless indigo darkness.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Wakey, wakey!”

  The whisper floated to Asterin through the darkness. She ignored it, savoring the blessed silence that followed. Then the heavy ripple of fabric cut the silence short and blazing white light pierced her slumber. “Close the damn curtains!” she howled.

  When the curtains stayed open, she groaned and rolled onto her stomach, burrowing her face into the pillows. Those, along with the covers, were wrenched from her grip.

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty,” that voice taunted again. Asterin cursed it like a sailor, curling in on herself in a final attempt to fall back asleep. “Come on, you managed to beat me for the first time in your life and I return only to find that you’ve given up already?”

  She shot up in bed with a little scream as Orion’s grinning face swam into view. Heat radiated from her face as she yanked her satin dressing gown below her knees.

  “Orion!” she shrieked. “I am not dressed!”

  “Clearly,” he said. “What a sight for sore eyes. That neckline is sinfully low.”

  “Well, I thought you were Luna,” she snapped. “I saw no reason to cover myself.”

  “What? I don’t sound anything like Luna!”

  She shrugged and flung her finger toward the entrance. “Out!”

  “I’ll be ba
ck in two minutes.” He winked and tugged playfully at her hem. “You should wear this more often.”

  Asterin whacked him in the head with the back of her hand. He just laughed and flounced out of her chambers.

  After the door snicked shut, she flipped out of bed and prowled toward the bathroom, grumbling all the while—but before she made it halfway across her room, her window shattered and a man tumbled in.

  Her magic reacted faster than she did, beyond her control yet again, spirals of jagged ice shooting straight for the intruder’s heart.

  Only as the man looked up and she met Quinlan’s wide eyes did she realize her mistake.

  “No!” she shouted, too late.

  A wave of heat swelled over her as fire exploded from his palms, melting her ice into a deluge of water that splashed high enough to soak him from head to toe.

  “What in hell was that for, brat?” he spluttered, drenched but unharmed. He clutched his hands protectively to his chest. “Is that how you say good morning? How rude.”

  “Immortals have mercy,” Asterin said, clutching her chest. Her shock soon turned into fury. “Have you ever heard of using a door?” she yelled. “I could have killed you!”

  “That would have been awfully ambitious of you,” Quinlan replied nonchalantly, peering at his cupped palms.

  Without a word, she strode over to him and slapped him hard across the face.

  He blinked, cheek darkening with a hand-shaped print.

  “What were you doing outside my window?” Her body trembled. “And don’t call me brat, asshole.”

  His mouth snapped shut, and for the first time he seemed to focus. His eyes dipped down, snagging briefly on her neckline. He blushed. “Uh …”

  She snapped her fingers. “Eyes up here, Holloway.”

  “Right,” he said smartly. There was a pause. “Apologies. You look nice.”

  She glared at him. “You’re dripping on my rug.”

  “Sorry.”