Ice Kissed (The Kanin Chronicles)

by Amanda Hocking

  “I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Kennet said, lowering his voice as though he were confiding in me. He walked beside me down the corridor, while Kasper followed a step behind. “But I have to admit, I’m happy you are.”

  “I’m just happy it’s under much better circumstances,” I replied carefully.

  “Ah, yes. With the Queen back, it is a time of much celebration.” His voice rose with excitement when he spoke, but then he looked down at me, smiling with a glint in his eye. “Hopefully that means our time together will be much more fun this time around.”

  It occurred to me that Ridley had been right when we were here before (as painful as it was to think of Ridley in any capacity right now). He’d thought that Kennet had been flirting with me, and I’d brushed it off as nonsense. But now I was beginning to see the merit in the idea.

  Ordinarily, I would consider it a bad idea to flirt with a Prince. It could be rather dangerous, in fact. But considering that something very strange was going on in this palace, having another member of the royal family on my side wouldn’t be a bad thing.

  “I’m certain it will be,” I said, attempting to match Kennet’s playful grin with my own, and he laughed warmly.

  Kennet led us down the spiral staircase toward the private quarters. The main floor was entirely above the surface of the lake, while the private quarters and the ballroom were located underneath the water. As soon as we went downstairs, the musty scent grew stronger.

  While an underwater palace sounded like a magical and grand thing, the impracticality of it seemed to have taken its toll. Wallpaper lined the hallway—blue with an icy sheen—but it had begun to peel at some of the corners. Even the navy-and-white checked tiles on the floor had begun to warp in a few places. All damage from the constant moisture of being in a lake.

  As I suspected, Kennet led me to the room I had stayed in before, after first dropping Kasper off several doors away. The valet had already carried my bags down, and I was pleased to find them sitting on the lush bedding.

  The wall to the outside bowed out, like a fishbowl, and the darkness of the water seemed to engulf the room. Despite all its luxurious trappings, the room filled me with a sense of unease. Like I was a dolphin on display at a zoo.

  “In case you don’t remember from last time, the bathroom is across the hall,” Kennet explained; he’d followed me inside the room, standing directly behind me as I stared out at the lake. “My room is in the other wing, should you need me for anything at all.”

  I turned back to face him, and despite the gnawing ache in my heart over Ridley, there was something in Kennet’s smile that made it … not exactly easy to smile back, but at least not so hard and not quite so painful.

  “I trust that the room is in order for you,” Kennet asked, and I realized he hadn’t taken his eyes off me since we’d entered the room.

  Smiling, I gestured around me. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

  “If there’s anything you desire, I’ll be happy to get it for you.” And there it was again. A glint in his eye that somehow seemed both dangerous and a bit charming.

  “Thank you, but right now the only thing I desire is a good night’s sleep,” I told him politely.

  He arched an eyebrow. “You will let me know if that changes?”

  “Of course.”

  When he left, shutting the door behind him, I let out a deep breath and collapsed on the bed behind me. The day had left me exhausted in ways I didn’t even know were possible. It still felt as if a hole had been torn inside me, as if my very insides had been ripped out, leaving a cold shell.

  But there was no time to cry or mourn what might have been between Ridley and me. It was over, the way it should’ve been a long time ago, and the only thing I could do was push past it and hope that eventually the pain would get more bearable.

  EIGHTEEN

  exchequer

  First thing in the morning, Kennet took Kasper and me down to the guard station. The last time I’d been here, when Ridley and I had been investigating Linnea’s disappearance, we’d been denied access to the guards.

  This time, Kasper and I were here specifically to see if there was any truth to Linnea’s concerns and to implement new standards for the guards so they’d be better protection for the royalty. That meant we had to be directly involved with the guards.

  The guard station was a small round room at the center of the lower level of the palace. It was sparsely decorated, with three large paintings of the royal family the only adornments on its white walls. Four large desks were placed at odd angles, along with several filing cabinets.

  Much like the rest of the palace, everything in this room looked as though it had seen better days, save for the steel vault on the other side of the room. It appeared to be sterling and new, as though it would fit better in a bank vault than an old office.

  Hunched over one of the desks, a guard scribbled something down on a notepad. His golden hair was slicked back until it curled at the nape of his neck, with just a hint of silver at his temples revealing his age. Under the tailored sleeves of his dress shirt, his shoulders were broad and his biceps were rather thick.

  Another man—younger than the first, closer to my age—with a slender build and a slightly upturned nose, sat perched on the edge of the desk. He’d been leaning over, watching what the older man was writing, but he instantly hopped to his feet when we walked into the room.

  “Your Highness,” he said, bowing before Kennet.

  The other man, who had been working on something, rose more slowly.

  “No need for the formalities.” Kennet brushed them off and glanced back at Kasper and me. “Bayle can be old school at times. He’s a relic from Father’s reign.” The older guard grimaced, not that I blamed him, but Kennet turned back to him with a smile. “I’m just here to make the introductions. These are our friends from the Kanin, Bryn Aven and Kasper Abbott.”

  “Nice to meet you,” the younger man said, but he didn’t really looked pleased to meet us, nor did he introduce himself.

  “I’m Bayle Lundeen.” The older man came around the desk to shake our hands. “I’m the head guard. Anything you need, I should be able to help you.”

  “They’re actually here to help you,” Kennet reminded him. “We need to revamp things so the Queen feels safe in her own home.”

  “Yes, of course.” Bayle smiled wanly at us. “I’ll do my best to implement any changes that the King and Queen see fit to impose.”

  “I just hope a uniform isn’t one of them.” The younger guard snickered, and Bayle shot him a glare.

  Kasper had worn his Högdragen uniform, the way he did any time he was working. Since I wasn’t officially on the Högdragen, I wasn’t allowed to wear one, so I’d gone with a modified version of a tracker solider uniform: tailored black linen with epaulets, but not nearly as flashy as the silver and black velvet one Kasper wore.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name,” Kasper said, his tone even and polite.

  “Cyrano Moen.” The younger man straightened up, raising his chin. “I’m the Queen’s personal guard.”

  “Well, Cyrano, it’s funny that you mention uniforms, because I was actually going to suggest them,” Kasper said, causing Cyrano to scowl.

  “We’ve always had a dress code here.” Bayle gestured to his and Cyrano’s outfits, which were very businesslike—dark trousers, dress shirts, ties. Cyrano even had a suit jacket.

  “A dress code isn’t the same as a uniform,” Kasper explained. “The Kanin have found that not only do those wearing a uniform tend to exhibit more pride and integrity on the job, but they also have more of a presence since they give the guard greater visibility. Ultimately, we’ve found that a uniform provides a sense of security and helps curb assaults.”

  Cyrano looked at Kennet, almost pleading with him to stop Kasper, but Kennet shrugged and smiled.

  “We actually do have uniforms,” Bayle said. “We only wear them for special occasions, li
ke weddings or coronations, but it wouldn’t be unthinkable for us to start wearing them on a daily basis.”

  “You’re all working together!” Kennet beamed and clapped Bayle on the back. Still grinning, he looked at me. “Is there anything more you need from me before I leave Bayle to show you around the place?”

  “No, I’m certain Bayle will be more than helpful,” Kasper replied.

  I didn’t say anything, but my gaze had wandered back to the strange vault door at the other side of the room. It stood in stark contrast to the worn look of everything else. I wondered if the armory was behind it, but I doubted the Skojare had much in the way of weapons.

  “You wanna see what’s behind that door?” Kennet asked with a wag of his eyebrows.

  Bayle cleared his throat. “My Prince, I’m not sure if that would be wise.”

  “Nonsense!” Kennet strode across the room. “There are several guards here. Nothing will go wrong.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t need to see anything if it will cause trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.” Kennet punched a few numbers on a state-of-the-art keypad next to the door, then scanned his thumb—both of which were light years ahead of the lock-and-key system the Skojare had for the dungeon.

  Kasper pursed his lips and glanced over at me, as if I had intentionally brought this on. While Bayle seemed to have misgivings about Kennet opening the door, Cyrano had walked up behind Kennet, almost standing on his tiptoes so he could peer inside the second it opened.

  There were several loud clicks, followed by a strange wooshing sound, and then the door slowly opened a bit. Kennet glanced around and, seeing that I wasn’t beside him, he waved me over.

  “Come have a look,” he insisted with a smile. As soon as I’d reached him, he threw open the door, and I was nearly blinded by the sparkling inside.

  I wish I could say that it didn’t hit me the way it did—that my jaw didn’t drop and my heart didn’t skip a beat for a moment. But despite my education, and even my career in service, I still had troll blood coursing through my veins, and if there was one thing trolls desired in life it was gems.

  The round room behind the vault door wasn’t very large—maybe the size of standard swimming pool. White lights from the ceiling were aimed perfectly so there could be no shadows. Nothing could hide in here.

  But the space was packed with sapphires. It actually seemed like a rather childish way to store them, with jewels simply piled up around the room. There were a few shelves where larger, more precious stones were displayed, but mostly they were just strewn about. Millions of dollars in gemstones were lying around the way a messy child might leave toy cars.

  While most of the sapphires were a darker blue, they came in all shades ranging from pale turquoise to nearly black, not to mention some that were pink or red. Some were translucent, like diamonds, while others were opaque, like opals. But all of them sparkled like the night sky.

  I didn’t know enough of Skojare history to say for certain where they’d gotten all of these, but I knew they had once traded with humans for jewels. If I went far enough back in their history, I’d heard tales of them stealing, some of their ancestors even taking to the sea and pirating.

  But really, it didn’t matter how the Skojare had gotten the sapphires; they were here now, and I realized they were the only things in the palace that were safely guarded.

  The gems also didn’t completely mesh with what I’d seen of the palace and what I knew about the Skojare tribe. My understanding was that their funds were drying up. I’d heard they still had some jewels, but they were hoarding them so they wouldn’t go completely broke.

  The hoarding definitely did appear to be true, but apparently the term some jewels was very subjective.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Kennet asked, breaking my trance, and I turned back to him, forcing myself not to admire the gems anymore.

  “Yes, they’re quite lovely,” I admitted.

  “I suppose that’s enough for today then,” Kennet said, and he closed the door almost reluctantly, locking the treasure back up.

  After that he left, allowing Bayle and Cyrano to give Kasper and me a tour of the palace and explain its inner workings.

  The palace was filled with the wealthiest members of the Skojare, living in small apartmentlike spaces, and the guards, who lived in smaller dormitories on the second floor. The guards in their suits were nearly indistinguishable from the rich, and in part, I think that was because the lower-class didn’t want it to be obvious who worked for whom.

  Eliminating class distinctions was commendable, but somebody had to protect the royalty. Even public leaders in the human world had a secret service. Everybody couldn’t run around and play together. Somebody had to do the work, but here in Storvatten, it seemed that nobody wanted to.

  It could even be seen in how rundown everything was. But as I saw the cracks in the walls, the warped floor tiles, and even the broken locks, I couldn’t help but think back to the vault filled with sapphires.

  Why did the Skojare let the palace fall to disrepair when they had so much money? Was their greed so strong that they would rather sit on the gems and let everything fall apart around them than spend the money on necessary repairs? It was like one of Aesop’s fables, where the outcome couldn’t be good for them.

  NINETEEN

  de rigueur

  “It’s insane to me that they’ve lived like this for so long,” I said for the hundredth time.

  After Kasper and I had spent a long day going over the palace with Bayle and taking notes, we’d retired to my room to start making a plan for how we would improve things. The problem was that there were so many areas that needed improvement, it was hard to know where to begin.

  Bayle had provided us with all kinds of paperwork on training processes, job descriptions, schedules, dress codes, pretty much everything we might want to look at, and it was spread out all over my bed.

  I had a notebook on my lap so I could jot down ideas, and Kasper was pacing the room, looking over a training sheet and shaking his head. He’d taken off his uniform jacket, so he wore only the T-shirt underneath.

  “They have zero combat training.” Kasper hit the paper in his hand. “How can you be a guard if you have no ability to protect anyone?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I can’t believe that something bad hasn’t happened already.”

  “Everyone here is almost completely unprotected!” Kasper was nearly shouting in his frustration. “The only things they’ve got properly secured are those ridiculous sapphires, and I can’t believe they even thought of that.”

  I was about to join in Kasper’s rant about the severe inadequacies of the Skojare guard when a small knock at the door interrupted us. Pushing the papers aside, I got up and answered it to find Marksinna Lisbet, dressed in a flowing gown.

  “Dinner starts in twenty minutes, and we’d be so pleased if you both could join us,” Lisbet said, smiling in her aristocratic way that I’d begun to find charming.

  I glanced back at Kasper, even though I knew exactly how he’d respond. Even more so than me, he had a strong sense of propriety. When he was on duty, he took his work very seriously, and I admired that about him.

  “We would be honored to, Marksinna,” I told Lisbet. “But since we’re working for your kingdom now, it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to share a table with you or the King and Queen.”

  Lisbet laughed, an effervescent sound that nearly matched her granddaughter’s. “It’s never appropriate to turn down the King and Queen’s request, and they’ve invited you to join us for dinner. So I suggest you get dressed and meet us in the dining hall in twenty minutes. We’re excited to hear your thoughts on the kingdom.”

  Since she’d really left us with no choice, I scrambled to get dressed and fix my makeup. Kasper should’ve had an easier time, because he only had to put his jacket back on, but he ended up spending roughly fifteen minutes reapplying gel to his dark curls t
o keep them perfectly in place.

  “When they ask us how we think their palace is, what should we say?” Kasper asked in a hushed voice as we made our way down a long corridor toward the dining hall.

  “We’ll just have to be as vague as possible,” I suggested. “The truth is too brutal to say all at once over dinner.”

  “I just hope we can make it through the meal without someone saying, ‘Off with their heads,’” he muttered.

  “Even if they did say that, who do they have to enforce it?” I asked dryly.

  Kasper laughed. “Good point.”

  We reached the hall to find Mikko, Linnea, Kennet, and Lisbet already seated around the table. Four guards were standing at attention in the corners of the room, including Linnea’s personal guard, Cyrano, and they were all wearing matching uniforms—a frosty blue satin number that rivaled the Högdragen uniform in style and flair. They weren’t exactly practical, although the guards did have swords sheathed on their hips in flashy metallic sashes, but the uniforms did identify their station.

  As I made my way over to the table, I couldn’t help but notice the icy glare from Cyrano. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the uniform, although I was certain he wasn’t happy about that, or because he had to stand guard while Kasper and I got to eat at the table.

  Kennet stood up. “Bryn, why don’t you take the seat next to me?” He pulled out the chair beside his. I’d been planning to sit next to Kasper at the end of the table, but I didn’t want to seem rude by denying the Prince’s request.

  “Thank you.” I smiled at him and allowed him to push my chair in for me, even though that was definitely not proper etiquette.

  “So, how are you enjoying the palace?” Linnea leaned forward to speak to me, not minding if her elbows were on the table, and pushing elegant dinnerware to the side to get a better look at me.

  “I can honestly say there’s nothing else quite like it,” I said.

  “It is truly magnificent,” Kasper said, echoing my sentiments.

  A butler came around to begin serving the first course. Before I had the chance, Kennet slipped my silk napkin off the table and dropped it artfully on my lap. His hand brushed my thigh when he pulled it back, but neither of us acknowledged it.