“Is this why you woke us up?” Xavier asked, his voice muffled.
“I love snow,” Isabel said, hurt. “Why aren’t you more ex-
cited?”
“It’s a good war strategy, isn’t it, Xavier?” I said, wrapping a blanket around myself and running across the room, leaping onto him. Xavier groaned under my weight.
“It is. Only for the twins, though,” he coughed out. “If they stripped down and jumped into the snow, they’d be undetectable. We’d surely win the war.” He struggled under me. “Remember to keep your eyes shut,” Xavier advised. I could hear the lazy smirk in his voice. “It’ll be strange if the enemy sees four floating blue orbs in the snow.”
“Well!” Isabel exclaimed, purely offended. “We’re not that pale. Are we, Jax?” She turned to her brother.
“They’ve got a point,” he admitted, earning a punch from his sister.
I waited for them to leave, lying across Xavier’s body, at least five layers of blankets between us.
“Can’t . . . breathe . . .”
“Let’s go outside.”
“It’s too cold,” he moaned.
“Come on,” I said, giving him a shake. “It looks so wonderful.”
His head poked out again, like a turtle from its shell.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re happy.”
I blushed.
I loved snow.
The fresh version, where it was still soft and hugged your legs with each step like a cold blanket.
Snow made the world—the hatred, the bloodshed—look clean and pure. It made the future seem hopeful. When I worked for King Sadim, I would spend my free time sitting on the rooftops every winter, watching little flakes of white de-light drift down, clinging to my eyelashes.
Snow was peace.
I slipped on the warmest boots I had, wrapping a wool cloak around my shoulders. I pulled up the hood, sliding on black gloves made from fine black goat leather.
I crept out of the room. Servants walked through the corridors. It was time for breakfast—the smell of fresh bread and warm soups they were cooking in the kitchen wafted through the halls, finding their way up my nose.
I made my way to the entrance of the castle. The doors were open, children playing outside as they ran and screamed through the snow, giggling and throwing balls of snow at each other. Even the servants of the castle played, rolling in the snow, cheerful as ever.
I smiled. My breath came out in puffs around my lips, the heat battling the chilly air of the outside world.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” a familiar voice asked. I looked over my shoulder to agree, only to find myself staring into the emerald green eyes of someone who brought back many memories.
“Esmeralda?” I said, bewildered.
“What, did you think I died? I’m not that old, dear.”
Esmeralda was Lance and Lorelle’s grandmother. She was the one who had created and possessed Xavier’s antidote—the one I was sent to retrieve to save his life. She had taken me in as an apprentice. A junior healer.
“No, not at all,” I replied smoothly, getting over my shock. “I wasn’t expecting you to be the one who appeared behind me.”
She laughed. “Did you forget about me, then?”
I shook my head, smiling. “Esmeralda, I never got to thank
you for the note. The one Queen Celeste left for me.”
“It wasn’t mine to keep. The letter was meant for you. I im-
agine you were shocked when you found out.”
“Found out?” I echoed.
“Where you’re really from.” She examined me closely. “Have you forgotten?”
And then I realized what she was talking about.
Through all the talk of the war, the kidnapping by the pirates, the tremor in my wrist, unleashing a beast and trying to make a life for myself after becoming an assassin, I hadn’t paid much attention to it. King Sadim died, and it didn’t matter anymore.
My parents had been the main leaders of the rebel army, and King Sadim had taken me from them as a child, raising me as a weapon he’d use to destroy them and their organization. The anger and rage I had felt after I had found out was unbearable, but it had been released after Sadim was killed.
I also found out he had murdered my parents—by my hand or before he had recruited me, I didn’t know.
“You belonged with us.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t belong with anyone.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” she said, smiling as she looked straight ahead. “You were a part of us, and you always will be.”
“I am my own person. The rebel army doesn’t exist anymore.”
“But the people do, Adalia. All of us. If the king hadn’t taken you from us, you would still be—”
“I would still be sitting in that base, listening to Clarice lament about how sad her life is,” I scowled. “Without me, without that weight that had been placed on my shoulders, you wouldn’t be standing here watching the snow fall. This snow would be stained with blood. Instead of these children laugh-
ing, all you would hear is screams as people lost their loved ones. So, Esmeralda, it might be a good thing I was taken from my parents.”
I didn’t know why I had burst like that, but I’d suddenly felt very defensive. Esmeralda didn’t know me, and she surely had no right telling me where I would have been better off.
“You’re right,” she nodded, surprising me again. “I suppose I hadn’t looked at it that way.” She turned her head to me, sincere. “Thank you.”
I nodded, looking ahead. “You don’t need to thank me. I had to do what was right.”
“You defied a king’s orders. You’re the bravest soul I have met.”
I didn’t reply, but inside, I felt warmer. Her words were effective, I had to admit.
Suddenly something smacked against the back of my head.
I froze.
My hand slowly slid up, touching my hair.
Snow.
I whipped around, prepared to unleash my wrath upon the thrower.
Instead, I saw a little boy standing in the snow, his big blue eyes wide with fear.
Everyone froze.
I stared at the boy, and for the first time in a long, long time, I had no idea how to react.
There were two ways to handle the situation: either I scolded him to the point of tears, or I grabbed a snowball and hit him back—to the point of tears.
I walked up to him, kneeling down at eye level. He was shivering—from the cold or fear, I couldn’t tell. I reached into
the snow, and he flinched. I rolled up another ball.
Throw it at him, my head said.
I handed it to him. “Try to aim for something other than my head next time.” He took it from me in awe. I pulled off my gloves, also handing those to him, fighting the cold that was creeping down from my brain and into my heart. “We don’t need more people getting their fingers cut off, understood?”
He nodded, a smile spreading across his face.
“Thank you!”
I didn’t need his thanks, nor did I want it, but something told me I was doing the right thing.
I could almost feel the relief from the people around us as they resumed playing. If they took this as a sign that they could now attack me with snowballs so that I would give them my cloak next, the people would soon notice pretty scarlet patterns decorating the winter wonderland.
As if on cue, another snowball smacked against my head. I growled, pulling out my knife and whipping around to face the attacker.
There stood a grinning Lance, cheeks flushed from the cold, his green eyes bright against the sparkling snow behind him.
“May I have a glove as well?”
I tucked the knife back in my belt, rolling up a ball again in my left hand, my skin already freezing, and hurled it at him. He ducked, but I had aimed low. The snowball smacked into his stomach, and he let out an oof.
“
This is war!” he shouted. At the same time, Ashes appeared behind him, along with Darren and Charlotte.
“We’ve got you,” said Xavier from behind me, a snowball in his gloved hand. His eyes glittered with pure excitement; something you only saw in children. The bottom half of his face was covered, protecting him from the cold and the eyes
of prying people.
Jax and Isabel smirked from behind Xavier, tossing snow-
balls up and down in their brown leather gloves. I grinned, turning back to Lance with a sneer.
“You were saying?”
“I’m not backing down!” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Esmeralda said, backing away, the smile on her face optimistic and knowing. “Just don’t forget what we talked about. It’s more important than you think.”
I watched as she walked away, leaving footprints in the snow.
I turned back to Lance.
“Attack!” I ordered, flinging my snowball. It flew past his shoulder, hitting Ashes right in the face. She shrieked, wiping furiously at her red, frozen skin with her snowy gloves, only making it worse. “One down, three to go!”
I rolled out of the way at Lance aimed for Xavier. A flurry of snowballs flew past my shoulders as Jax and Isabel worked double time, hurling them at Aland and Charlotte.
Ashes was back on her feet, making two snowballs at a time. She managed to get one to skim my shoulder, leaving bits of icy snow on my cloak.
I dropped to my knees as Charlotte sent one flying towards me and heard it hit something solid.
“Adalia, how could you?” Jax gasped.
“I apologize,” I called back without turning to him, “but to win, we must have brave soldiers who risk their lives for their team.”
Xavier let out a laugh as his snowball smashed into Charlotte’s chest.
“I’ll get you back!” she called, diving behind a mound of
snow one of the children had been building earlier. I ordered
Jax and Isabel to build one too, for safety, as Xavier and I stood
on the offense.
“Who do you think is winning?” he asked, his cheeks pink, golden eyes bright. Dark curls fell into Xavier’s eyes and he blew them back, snowflakes clinging to his dark eyelashes. I smiled at him. He looked at me. “Well?”
“Oh, right.” I cleared my throat, hoping he would think the deep blush on my cheeks was from the frigid weather. I glanced back at the opposing team. “It seems tied, for now.”
“I just realized,” he said, under his breath, “everyone’s watching.”
He was right. I glanced at the scene around us, and everyone had stopped playing, eagerly watching the battle. I didn’t care, not yet. It was time to end this.
“Isabel,” I called. “Attack from behind the snow shields. Aim for Aland. Xavier,” I glanced at him, lowering voice, “take out Lance with a sneak attack. I’ll focus on Ashes.”
I rubbed my numb, freezing hands together. Xavier peeled off one of his gloves, handing it to me. The moment left an opening, a snowball hitting Xavier right below his stomach. I winced as he fell back.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” he groaned, but I waved him away, taking his glove.
“Don’t worry. I can do this by myself.”
Rolling to the right, I dodged four snowballs at once. Jax and Isabel supplied me with them as I threw, my right aim slightly off. It was up to my left hand to save the day.
I flung the snowballs, one landing against Lance’s chest. Behind him, two hit Charlotte and Aland in the face, blinding them for a few moments. I took that as an opening, running towards Ashes. She spun around, blocking my attack with her cloak. She glanced over her shoulder, but it was too late. I had already won. Isabel appeared to her right, and I took the final snowball, smashing it against her nose.
I raised my fists in triumph, laughing. Isabel smacked her palm against mine, gripping my hand tightly.
“Victory is ours!” she announced, and the crowd cheered.
Lance sat in the snow, grinning. Aland and Charlotte had rubbed most of the snow off of their faces, and Xavier was still recovering from the brutal attack.
I couldn’t remember being this cheerful in a long time.
This was why I loved snow.
Lance stood up, his viridescent eyes fixed on Jax.
“It looks like I found something you’re not that great at, huh?” he leered, cheeks flushed from the cold weather.
Jax stood up too, forming a snowball in his hands.
A look of competitiveness slipped onto his face, clouds of air forming around his chapped lips.
The boys began throwing snowballs at each other, and I stepped away and into a safety zone. Xavier, Isabel, Charlotte, and Aland followed suit, watching from the sidelines.
“Who wants to bet they’ll be holding knives at each other’s throats within the next five minutes?” Charlotte asked.
“Nah,” Isabel shook her head, “I know my brother.” She grinned. “It’ll be earlier, like . . .” The snowballs lay forgotten as Lance tackled Jax to the ground. They fumbled around in the snow, each trying to get the upper hand on the other.
“. . . Now,” Isabel completed.
“They’ll survive,” Xavier said, patting my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
It snowed for two days straight. Sometimes it flurried, other times the winds nearly blew the doors off their hinges, leaving snow in the open corridors and making it difficult to access
certain rooms.
Training had also become harder, and things would stay this way for a while now. In Astodia, winters were the longest, most dangerous time of year. The elderly and newborns suffered the most. Frostbite was common among the poor with little or no access to firewood. That was the downside of it all.
Lorelle was even busier because of it. She barely spoke to me—but she did, finally, give me my own set of chambers.
Word had also arrived that Princess Zinovia of Crea was on her way, and her trip had been delayed because of the snow. I hoped for her sake the roads had been cleared out and she had a caravan big enough to keep her safe from bandits. She couldn’t die right before a war for her kingdom. Who would take the throne? She was the last of her family.
I spent, unwillingly, most of my time with Ashes. She was, to be honest, a difficult person to read. Some days she was utterly optimistic, happy and excited, and other days she shot me looks of bloody murder.
Today was one of those days.
“What took you so long?” she grumbled, stepping back from one of the sandbags. Her knuckles were raw from hitting them.
“Don’t show off. Put on some gloves or hand wraps,” I said, shutting the door behind me. The training room was warmer than the rest of the castle, probably since the Knights had used it moments ago. Proof hung around the air, the sweat still lingering, invisible to the human eye.
I wrinkled my nose.
“I’m not showing off, idiot.” She seemed to catch herself,
turning to me quickly and hanging her head. “I apologize. I
know I’m not supposed to speak like that—”
“Shut up,” I cut her off, not in the mood. I unclipped my
cloak, setting it aside, and rolled up the sleeves of my tunic. “You’re really strange, you know that?”
“I have to be.”
“Why?”
“Why are you asking so many questions?”
“A moment ago, you were apologizing for your rudeness. Answer the question you’re being asked, and don’t answer with another question. Understood?”
She nodded, even though it was clear she didn’t want to discuss anything.
“Why’re you in a sour mood?” I wrapped the hand wraps around my fists.
“I got a letter.” Straight and to the point. I had to make my questions more specific and direct.
“From whom?”
“My mother.”
I paused, looking up at her.
“Mother? I thought you were an orphan.”
“No, I have a mother,” she assured me. “She just doesn’t act like one. She lives in Dystalphi. I’m sure she doesn’t even remember I exist anymore.”
“Oh, really?” I resumed wrapping. “Does she have something better to do?”
“Yeah, you could say that. She’s made quite a name for herself. That’s all she cares about—her work. I’m glad I didn’t get that quality from her. At least I’m willing to make a life for myself. She threw away hers for a title.” Ashes’s jaw twitched as she landed another blow on the sandbag. She turned to me, rubbing her knuckles. “On second thought, could you throw me one of those hand wraps?”
I did.
We practiced for a couple of hours. I helped her with aim-
ing, and new sparring techniques I learned from an old instructor. Only I knew them, but if Ashes was to be my apprentice, she had to know things—even things only I knew.
Sometimes I wondered where that instructor had disappeared off to. At one point in my life, I had begun wondering if he was actually my father in disguise. He had the same gray eyes as I, and he cared for me like I was his blood.
But Queen Celeste had batted away that ridiculous idea. She told me I’d been saved from my family—the fake family, I later learned. It had all been a ruse, a setup. King Sadim had tricked me into believing I had been saved, when all along, he had picked my destiny for me.
“Easy there,” Ashes said, snapping me out of my thoughts. She rested one hand on my wrist. I looked down to find myself aiming an arrow at one of the targets, my right wrist shaking.
I stepped back, lowering the bow. I wiped my forehead on the back of my hand. “What was I saying again?”
“You were just helping me with my aim. I told you I wasn’t that great with a bow and arrow, remember?”
I didn’t reply because I couldn’t remember.
“Okay.”
“If you don’t want to do it . . .” her eyes dropped to my right hand. A tremor ran through it, and I grabbed my wrist with my left hand.
“We’ll do it. Pick up the bow,” I ordered. She immediately did as I said, holding it up. “Keep your arm straight.” I reached out, straightening her aim. “Now, pull back far enough for your thumb to rest alongside your jaw.”
I stood behind her, watching over her shoulder. “Move it a
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