“It’s not your fault,” Ember said, reading my expression. “Viktor’s obviously been planning this for a long time, and I’m sure that even if you’d gotten him, somebody would’ve stepped in to take his place.”
“Maybe,” I allowed. “I just wish it had never come to this.”
“I know,” she agreed. “When this all started, I thought King Evert was overreacting. But now it looks like this war is shaping up to be a big deal.”
THIRTY-FOUR
polity
I had just stepped up to my parents’ house when my dad opened the door, as if he’d somehow been expecting my unannounced visit. His glasses were pushed up back on his head, holding back his thick black hair that had silvered at the temples.
Dad smiled at me in the way he did when he hadn’t seen me in a while—happiness with an edge of relief that I was still alive and well. Without saying anything, I came into the house and he closed the door behind me.
He pulled me into a rough hug, and it wasn’t until he did that I realized how much I needed it. I hugged him back harder than I normally did, resting my head in the crook of his shoulder.
“Is everything okay?” Dad asked. I finally released him, but he kept his hands on my shoulders and bent down to look me in the eye.
“Iver? Is someone here?” Mom asked, and she rounded the corner from the living room. “Bryn! You’re back!”
She hurried over to me, practically pushing my dad out of the way so she could hug me. She kissed the top of my head and touched my face. Whenever I came back, she seemed to almost pat me down, as if checking to make sure that I was real and in one piece.
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Mom asked when she’d finished her inspection. “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I heard your mission in Storvatten went well,” Dad said. As Chancellor for Doldastam, I assumed he’d already gotten the rundown on how things went. “Did something happen that you didn’t tell the King?”
“No.” I shook my head and let out a heavy sigh.
That wasn’t entirely true—I hadn’t told King Evert about Prince Kennet’s flirtation with me, or how guilty I had felt leaving Queen Linnea, and I definitely hadn’t been able to tell him about the lysa involving Konstantin Black.
But I didn’t want to tell my parents about any of that either. Well, at least not the Kennet and Konstantin parts. The thing with Konstantin would only frighten them.
“I did my job in Storvatten,” I said finally, looking up at my parents’ expectant faces. “But I don’t think I helped anybody.”
And then suddenly, the words came tumbling out of me—all the concerns I’d been trying to repress. How I wasn’t certain of Mikko’s guilt, and how Kasper and I might have inadvertently been complicit in his unjust arrest. How Linnea seemed more like a child than a Queen, and it didn’t feel right leaving her there like that, where she would be ostracized and unprotected if her husband was convicted, and how I knew if Marksinna Lisbet couldn’t deliver on her promise to change things, I would have to go back to help Linnea and Mikko. How I didn’t trust a single person in Storvatten when it came down to it—not even Marksinna Lisbet or Prince Kennet. How everyone seemed to have conflicted motives and acted cagey at times, like they were hiding something, and I could never be sure if it was because they didn’t trust me for being Kanin, or if they were up to no good.
Eventually, my mom interrupted my long rambling tale to suggest we move to the dining room. I sat at the table, across from my dad, while Mom poured large cups of tea for each us.
“You did the right thing,” Dad said when I’d finally finished, and Mom set a cup in front of me before taking a seat next to him.
“Then why doesn’t it feel that way?” I asked. “It doesn’t feel like I’ve done anything at all.”
“Of course you did,” he corrected me. “You helped get the Skojare’s security in shape, and you brought comfort to Linnea. That’s exactly what you set out to do.”
“But there’s so much left unfinished!” I insisted.
“That’s the problem with working for the kingdom, the way you and I do.” He motioned between us. “We can only do what we’re commanded to do. Too many times, my hands have been bound by the law, and I know how frustrating it can be. But sometimes that’s all you can do.”
“There are so many limitations to your job,” Mom said after taking a long sip of her tea. “That’s why I’ve never quite understood the appeal of it for you. You’ve always been so strong willed and independent. But you want a job that demands complete submission.”
“Runa,” Dad said softly. “Now isn’t the time for this kind of discussion.”
“No, it’s okay.” I slumped lower in my seat. “She’s right. All I’ve ever wanted to do was make this kingdom better. I wanted to do something good and honorable. And the only way I knew how was to be a tracker or on the Högdragen.” I sighed. “But lately I just feel no good at all. I feel like I’m often choosing the lesser of two evils.”
“Welcome to politics.” Dad lifted his glass in a sardonic cheer and gulped it down.
Mom shifted in her chair and leaned on the table. “You know how I feel about your job, and I’m not advocating for it. But I think you’re taking this mission too hard.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You were working with another tribe, and if we’re being honest, the Skojare are weird,” she told me knowingly. “I lived there for the first sixteen years of my life, and I was constantly surrounded by that ‘cagey’ feeling you described. King Rune Biâelse practically made it mandatory.
“Did I ever tell you why my mother named me after him?” Mom asked, and I shook my head. Her name, Runa, was the feminine version of Rune. “The King could be mercilessly cruel to everyone and everything, and my mom hoped—futilely, I might add—that naming me after him would somehow endear me to him.”
“I’ve heard stories about him being an awful King, but I never realized how bad it was until I was there,” I said.
“That’s not to say the that the Skojare aren’t cold and secretive and just plain odd naturally,” she clarified. “Because they are. But Rune just made everything worse for everybody.
“And so they sent you, a Kanin, to a place where outsiders are always distrusted,” Mom went on. “The problem isn’t with you or even with your job in general, but with the mission itself. You were sent someplace where you could never really be of help, so naturally you came back feeling defeated.”
“Your mom is right,” Dad agreed. “You were sent there more as a gesture of goodwill than anything else. You were meant to make the Skojare feel aligned with the Kanin, so that if something happens, our King might able to get his hands on the Skojare’s jewels.”
I leaned my head back so I could stare up at the ceiling. Even though I knew what my dad was saying was true, and I’d really always known it, it still didn’t feel good to be a political pawn.
For as long as I could remember, my mom had railed against my working for the kingdom. And that entire time, I’d been completely convinced that she was wrong, that all her concerns and criticisms about our way of life were either unfounded or didn’t take into account the bigger picture—that I was helping people. I was making it better.
But now I wasn’t so sure about anything anymore.
“I remember feeling frustrated when I was growing up in Storvatten,” Mom said after a long pause. “My kingdom demanded silence and obedience. It left me feeling cold and isolated, and I wanted something entirely different.” She cast a warm glance at my dad. “I followed my heart, and I’ve never once regretted the choice I made all those years ago.”
I looked over at my parents, feeling more lost and confused than I ever had before. “But what if my heart doesn’t know what it wants anymore?”
THIRTY-FIVE
wedlock
The greenhouse seemed unable to contain all the plant life, and vines weaved around doo
r frames to climb over the walls in the small adjoining room. It was usually used as a break room, but it was a perfect place to get ready for a wedding.
Flowers of pink and white and purple bloomed on the vines, and flourishing potted plants sat on every available surface. Even the two sofas in the room had floral designs stitched onto their cream fabric.
A pale pink rose blossomed at the top of the full-length mirror, and Tilda took a deep breath as she stared at her reflection. Her long hair hung in loose curls down her back. Her cheeks were flushed slightly, and carnation-pink lipstick brightened her full lips.
The light chiffon fabric of her off-white dress flowed over her growing baby bump, nearly hiding it, but still managing to highlight how curvaceous and tall she was. Soft sleeves draped off her shoulders just so, revealing her well-toned arms and olive skin.
Ember and I stood to either side of her, both of us looking short and rather plain compared to Tilda’s radiance. Our hair had been styled the same way: small purple flowers were weaved into braids twisted into an updo.
We wore matching dresses: pale blue chiffon that landed just above the knees, in a similar empire design as Tilda’s. Her mother, Ranetta, had made all three of our dresses, and she’d done an amazing job, especially given the short notice of the wedding.
Tilda’s mother stood behind her, carefully adjusting the wreath of flowers on her head—the Kanin tradition instead of a veil. When she’d finished, she looked at her daughter’s reflection and smiled with tears in her eyes.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Ranetta told her.
“It’s true,” Ember chimed in. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look prettier.”
Ilsa, Tilda’s older sister, opened the door with a quick knock, then poked her head in. “I think they’re all ready for you out there.”
Ranetta once again assured Tilda that she looked beautiful and that everything was perfect, then departed with Ilsa to take their seats before the processional started. We could hear the soft music from the piano, and we were just waiting for our cue—“Winter” by Vivaldi to begin.
Tilda took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” she whispered.
“It’s a big day. It makes sense,” Ember said.
Her smoky gray eyes widened, and she nodded. “It’s a huge day.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of.” I tried to calm her nerves. “Do you love Kasper?”
“Of course.” She looked down at me, her eyes misty. “I love him with everything I am.”
“Just remember that, and everything will be okay.”
Tilda smiled, then she reached out and took my hand. Ember was on the other side of her, and Tilda grabbed her hand too, squeezing it tightly. The three of us stood together like that until the first notes of “Winter” began.
Ember went out first, walking down the short aisle. Tilda was getting married in the flower garden of the greenhouse, and there were flowers everywhere. Potted plants had been moved to the side to make room for a white velvet carpet to run down the center, and the twenty chairs set up on either side of it were decorated with floral garlands.
At the altar, Kasper’s two groomsmen were already waiting underneath the flowered arbor. His best man was Elliot Väan, the guard he worked with, and his fifteen-year-old brother, Devin, was the other groomsman.
Devin looked just like a smaller version of his brother, but his fidgety, hyper demeanor set them apart, especially in contrast with Elliot’s severe Högdragen stance.
When it was my turn, I kept my head high and my eyes forward. I knew that Tilda had invited Ridley, and I didn’t want to see him holding hands with Juni, who would undoubtedly be getting misty eyed at the beauty of it all.
The carpet felt soft on my bare feet, and I kept my eyes locked on the pale lilac and white roses that adorned the arbor. I listened to the music and counted my steps, and I tried desperately not to think about the night Ridley and I had spent together and how I’d wished it would last forever.
When I reached the altar, I took my place next to Ember and turned to watch Tilda. She came out a few seconds later and met Kasper. As soon as she saw him, her eyes filled with tears and she smiled. He took her hand, then he leaned over and whispered something in her ear, causing her to smile wider. Then hand in hand, the two of them walked down the aisle together.
It was only when they made it to the front, and the officiant had begun the ceremony, that I allowed myself to steal a glance around the room.
Kasper’s family sat in the front row, and by the rigid way his father sat, it was obvious that he’d once been a member of the Högdragen. His mother seemed more relaxed, hanging on to her husband’s arm, her eyes brimming with tears.
Naima, Kasper’s little sister, was the spitting image of him. She couldn’t have been more than ten, with black corkscrew curls and a wide toothy smile, watching Kasper and Tilda with intense fascination.
But soon my eyes wandered beyond them, and it only took me a moment to spot Ridley, sitting in the third row. He was alone, no Juni by his side, and he was looking right at me. His dark eyes met mine, and for a moment I forgot to breathe.
Then Tilda turned to hand me her bouquet so she and Kasper could exchange rings, and I looked away from Ridley, forcing myself not to gaze in his direction again.
Tilda’s hands were trembling as Kasper slid on the ring, and she laughed nervously. From where I was standing I could see Kasper, and how his love for Tilda warmed his dark eyes when he looked at her.
To seal their matrimony, they kissed. Tilda put her hands on his face, and Kasper put his arm around her, and the kiss was chaste but passionate. As they embraced, I wondered if I’d ever seen two people who loved each other more.
THIRTY-SIX
interlude
Ember never missed an opportunity to dance, and she was out on the floor, twirling around underneath strings of fairy lights. Devin had been chosen as her reluctant dance partner, and she pulled him along with her, forcing him to keep up with her moves whether he wanted to or not.
After the ceremony, we’d moved to the reception in the adjacent party room, which was really just a small ballroom built for occasions like these. A three-piece orchestra had been set up at one end of the room, with Tilda’s sister Ilsa singing with them. Ilsa had an astonishing range and an amazing voice somehow suited perfectly for the covers of Etta James, Rosemary Clooney, and Roberta Flack that she was performing.
I sat at the side of the room, trying to hide in the shadows as I sipped my sparkling wine and watched the dance floor. Since Tilda and Kasper had invited so few people, it left the floor rather sparse, even when most couples were dancing together.
Unfortunately, that made it all too easy for me to see through them to Ridley at the other side of the room. He was standing near the buffet, absently picking at the vegetable skewers on his plate, and when he looked up at me I quickly looked away.
Tilda had been slow dancing with Kasper, their arms around each other as they talked and laughed, but she stepped aside so Kasper could dance with his little sister. As she walked across the dance floor toward me, Kasper spun Naima around, making her giggle uncontrollably.
“Is your plan to hide in the corner all night?” Tilda asked with a crooked smile, as she sat down in the chair next to me.
“I’m not hiding,” I lied and took another sip of my wine.
“Mmm-hmm,” she intoned knowingly.
“It was a beautiful ceremony,” I said, changing the subject.
Her smile turned wistful as she watched her new husband. Naima had taken to standing on Kasper’s feet, and he held her hands as they waltzed around the room, both of them smiling and laughing.
“It really was,” she agreed.
“I’ve never seen Kasper happier.”
Watching him now, so relaxed and beaming, reminded me of what he’d said the day before. Work was important to him, but it wasn’t his life. It wasn’t wha
t defined him, and it wasn’t who he really was. This—the guy dancing with his kid sister, smiling at his wife—was Kasper.
His words had stuck with me, and as I watched him I couldn’t help but wonder—if the balance of working a job that mattered and having a life outside of it was possible for him, could it be possible for me too? Had I been wrong in assuming I had to choose one over the other?
“You’ll have to talk to him eventually,” Tilda said, pulling me from my thoughts, and I looked over to see her gazing at me seriously.
I thought about playing dumb and asking who, but I knew Tilda would see through that, the way she always saw through my acts.
So instead I simply said, “I know.”
“I don’t know why you’re avoiding him, but I know you are,” Tilda said, and she raised her hand to silence me before I could stutter out some kind of excuse. “It doesn’t matter right now. I just think you should go talk to him before it gets even harder to.”
Ridley was still standing on the other side of the room. Kasper’s dad had been talking to him, but the conversation appeared to be finishing up, leaving Ridley alone again.
“The bride is always right on her wedding day,” Tilda added. “So you know I’m right when I say that you need to do this.”
I took a fortifying breath then finished my glass of wine in one large gulp. “Okay.” I stood up, smoothing out my bridesmaid dress, and looked down at Tilda. “Will you be okay here by yourself, or do you want me to wait?”
“No, go!” She shooed me away with a smile. “I just wanna sit here another minute, and then I’m sure Kasper will have me out dancing again.”
My heart was pounding so hard as I walked across the dance floor, I could hardly hear the music over it. I kept reminding myself that it was only Ridley, that I’d talked to him a thousand times before and this wasn’t a big deal.
Of course, I’d never talked to him after having a one-night stand with him.
Ice Kissed (The Kanin Chronicles) Page 17
