Kingdom Cold

by Brittni Chenelle

  She spoke, "I'm terribly sorry for these horrid conditions. As soon as the wedding is over, I'll send you straight back to Vires where you belong."

  "Thank you, Your Majesty," I said. She crossed her arms and her face darkened. "I was hoping I could get a second helping of lunch today, Your Majesty."

  Her shoulders relaxed. "Ah. Certainly," she said, dropping her arms. Her gaze drifted to her right to beyond what I could see from my cell. "Balzar," she said. "Has the prince given you any information?"

  My stomach tightened. Of course she knew about the information trade going on here. That's probably why she put me here to begin with. I searched my cell for something I could use as a weapon.

  Balzar's voice echoed off the walls. "I don’t think he said anything worthy of your time," he said.

  I froze. He'd been a man of his word after all. I felt relief flush my cheeks.

  "That's just it," the queen said. "It’s your time I’m concerned about. I'll trade you what you know for your freedom."

  Chapter 19

  Princess Charlotte

  WITH THE LETTER ON its way to Vires, hope blossomed inside me. I was no longer marching toward my marriage to Emmett but toward freeing Young and taking back my kingdom. All I had to do was stall the wedding—an easy task that only required me to make up time-consuming requests. Emmett saw these requests as his opportunity to win my affection and my mother never got suspicious. After all, these kinds of demands were not too out of character for me. But one thing did weigh heavily on me: Milly. Since we'd returned to the castle, she'd disappeared from my life. I figured she'd changed her duties for a while to get some rest after our journey, but when a week went by and I still hadn't seen her, I knew something was wrong. We hadn’t seen eye to eye lately. Recent events showed me just how different our morality was, but she’d been there through it all. She understood and I missed her.

  I told my mother I was going to speak to the cook, Sasha, about the wedding day feast, but I was hoping Sasha could tell me where to find Milly. The servant's quarters were poorly lit and sparsely decorated. It was another part of the castle that royals rarely visited, but I knew them well. As a young girl, Milly would bring me here to help me hide from my mother, or skip my lessons. It was hard to believe that now Milly used these halls to hide from me.

  "Your Majesty," a servant said, bowing deeply.

  "I'm looking for Sasha," I said.

  "Kitchen, last I saw, miss," she said, wiping her dirty hands on her apron.

  I hustled down the hallway to the kitchen and turned the corner. I expected to see Sasha there, bent over the stove with permanently rosy cheeks, but instead I saw Milly washing dishes by the window. She stared out as she scrubbed her soapy hands against a metallic pot. When she didn't notice me come in, I considered turning back, leaving her in peace. I put my hand over my chest to steady my heartbeat. If I'd learned anything in the last few days, it was that friendship was more than just the good times. I stepped into the light of the kitchen.

  "Hey, Milly," I said.

  Her face paled. "Charlotte. What are you doing here?"

  I tried to imagine her tone was welcoming. "I've missed you."

  She turned back to her dishes. "Is there something you need?" The pot she was washing was clean, but she kept scrubbing it as if she hoped to wash away her problems with it.

  I shivered under her cold tone then took a few steps closer. "No, I just miss my friend."

  She continued to wash, without speaking. I put my hand on her shoulder. "If I've done something wrong to you, please tell me."

  The pot landed with a clang at the bottom of her washing pail. "Everything's wrong," she said, shrugging my hand off.

  "I know. The situation is bad, but I'm trying to fix it."

  She glared. "That's just it. Every decision you've made has made things worse for everyone." I stepped back as she continued. "People are killing people and you are at the center of it all."

  "Yeah, but—"

  "Wielding a sword, taking hostages. That isn’t you. I know you. You’d never hurt anyone. You certainly wouldn’t ki—” She covered her mouth with her hand. It shook. She dropped her hand and took a sharp breath. "Prince Young is in the dungeon!"

  Sasha entered the room with a cheerful smile that quickly faded. She turned and hustled out.

  I shook my head. "Look, Milly, you're like a sister to me—"

  "Stop!" she yelled. "I am not your sister." She stepped toward me, her brow furrowed, her eyes a burning blue. "Sisters don't blindly serve other sisters. You don't take care of me, you don't ask how I feel, and you don't know who I love. You're a spoiled, selfish princess who has run our kingdom into the ground in a matter of days." Tears pooled in her eyes.

  My heart ricocheted off my rib cage. I swallowed her words. "Fine. Who is it?"

  "What?"

  "Who do you love?"

  "I-I was just—"

  "Say it aloud, Milly," I demanded. She choked on her tears, turning back to the window. I continued. "There are a thousand reasons why he'll never be yours—none of them are imposed by me."

  She cried into her hands.

  I continued. "I didn't start this war."

  She turned back to me, her face and eyes pink. "Yes, but you can end it," she said. "Promise me. Promise me you'll marry Emmett. I can't tell if you're really excited about this wedding or if you have something planned, but promise me right now you'll go through with it."

  "Milly, I can't just—"

  "For me," she said while wiping away her tears and moving closer. "If we are sisters, do this one thing for me."

  It was a promise I knew I couldn't keep. It was also in support of her fantasy that I shouldn't indulge. Yet, as she cried in my arms, I couldn't form the words to disappoint her. I said nothing.

  After that, she returned to my quarters as my lady's maid. She never mentioned what passed between us, or how she felt about its resolution. I no longer knew if she was still my sister, friend, servant, or if she were merely keeping an eye on me to see if I kept the promise I didn't make, but either way, having her close put me at ease.

  That night, I opted to eat my dinner in my room. Milly hurried to the kitchen to fetch it while I pondered the things she said. She had been right about a lot of it. Had all our conversations been about me? How long had she felt that way? I made the decision to prepare a royal bath for Milly as a tribute for her friendship.

  A little later, Milly returned to my room before I could adequately fill the tub.

  "Surprise!" I grinned. "It's for you."

  Her pale face and crystal eyes glistened with horror. She spoke, her shaky voice uneven. "Prince Young has been found guilty of treason and sentenced to death."

  Chapter 20

  Milly

  CHARLOTTE DID HER BEST to comfort me, but I knew her too well. She was as scared as I was.

  I didn't even deserve her concern. I'd scolded her—a royal. The closer we'd grown, the deeper the discord between us crept. She could have had me beheaded for less, yet, late into the night, she wiped my tears and promised me she'd save him. But no matter what she said, one truth remained. Young was in danger.

  I plopped onto my stiff bed in the servant's quarters, attempting to quell the storms that raged inside of me. My mind replayed the moments I'd shared with the prince as I prepared for my dream to be snatched away by death.

  He was not the first prince I'd seen. I'd served many when they were guests at Hiems. They were needy, shallow things with no love for God or others. A visiting prince once scolded me and refused to sit because he claimed his chair was dusty. Young was different though. He looked at me with eyes that were soft and kind and saw me not as a servant, but as a girl. It was a definition with which I hardly defined myself.

  After that, I prayed every night to take away the feelings I harbored. I asked God why he'd burdened me with this love if it was so impossible. I begged for answers.

  One night in the forest, Young sat beside m
e, our campfire burning like my feelings. He nodded his head toward Emmett and Charlotte on the other side of the fire. "Do you think she could someday love him?" he asked.

  His question was so absurd that I said, "It's impossible."

  Staring into the fire he said, "Nothing's impossible."

  Even though we laughed, I couldn't help but feel like this was God's reply. There I was, despite my birth, sitting next to a prince as equals. I made a secret vow that night and pledged myself to him. I couldn't tell him now, but perhaps someday I could and maybe he could love me too.

  It was obvious that Charlotte didn't feel like I did about Young. I hurt at the memory of Young being treated so poorly by her. She tried to kill him, showed interest in his brother, and hated the idea of marriage. Still, sometimes he watched her. She had a kingdom to offer him, while I only had my feelings. Once the jealousy began to set in, I found it difficult to eradicate. Last night I found myself trying to convince Charlotte not to marry him, and this morning I was depending on her to save him. Love was maddeningly irrational. Even so, I couldn't trust Charlotte to save Young. What could she do? Did she even care? I'd have to watch him die—unless I did something myself.

  I got to my knees, pushing my palms together. "Almighty Father, I have done my best to serve you graciously and thank you for your many blessings. You taught me that all life is precious, an idea that I've protected even through these times of war." My heart raced as I formed the rest of my prayer. "The only thing stronger than the promises I've made to you is the vow I made to dedicate myself to love. I ask that you turn away from me now.” I clutched my wooden cross and yanked it from my neck. It landed with a clunk and slid across the stone floor. “My new God and guiding force is Young. I ask that you be merciful in your deliverance and that you consider your part in the events that led me here."

  I had no choice but to kill the queen myself.

  The sun peeked over the horizon, indicating that I might already be too late, but I didn't care. I had to do everything I could to save Young. I sprinted through the hallway to the servant's garden. I knew I'd find nothing useful there, but I had heard of one thing near the back of the castle: a very poisonous pink flower called Oleander. I didn't remember where I'd heard about it, nor did I know if it was really poisonous. What I did know was where pink flowers grew outside of the castle and that, for the moment, it was my only hope. I knew it was crazy. I knew that there was probably a better course of action out there than chasing a could-be poisonous flower, but the hope of saving Young was all I had left.

  I spotted the pink flowers in the leafy passage between the servant's garden and the back of the castle. I reached for them but froze. I didn't know if they were poisonous to the touch. It seemed silly that a flower so lovely and innocent could be something other than that—proof that this flower and I were made by the same God.

  I took several flowers, using my dress as a barrier between my hand and the potential poison, making sure that no one was around to see me. But I was alone—not even God was watching.

  I rushed to the kitchen to join Sasha in the breakfast preparation. I was late, but she didn't so much as make a face in disapproval. She was kind that way. We prepared the queen's breakfast as usual. When Sasha was far enough away, and humming along to a familiar tune, I pulled the flowers out of my pocket, being very careful not to touch them. I chopped them so finely they could have been mistaken for a bit of dust on the corner of the table. I closed my eyes, my heartbeat in my throat. I swallowed down my nerves. With the knife, I pushed the flower dust into the queen's wine. I placed the cup onto the tray, dropped the knife into the washing bucket, and turned back to collect the tray.

  I froze. Sasha faced me, holding the queen's breakfast tray out for me to serve— wine and all. I studied her face, the guilt seeping in, blurring my vision. She knew. My breaths felt strained as I pushed them out in slow hot bursts. I took the tray and headed for the door. She didn't stop me. It must have been all in my head.

  I pictured Young alone and afraid as I made my way to the queen's bedroom. I pushed open the door.

  "There you are," the queen said, her voice chilling my bones. "Is it my imagination or is someone running late this morning?"

  How fitting that she waits for me, her deliverer. I held the tray steady, willing my arms to stop shaking.

  I bowed my head. "I apologize, Your Majesty."

  I laid the tray before her. "My, my, my. How lovely you’ve become!" She raised the cup. "I remember the first day they brought you to us in the northern castle." She sighed, bringing the cup to her lips. I froze—my attention bound to her mouth.

  She sipped. "Now you're practically a woman."

  I did it. I did it. I killed her. I bowed and turned toward the door. "Wait," she said. "I should thank you for being such an important person to my daughter."

  I wanted to run to the door—a mere ten feet from freedom.

  "Have some wine."

  I turned slowly. Did she know? Could she taste it?

  "That's very kind, Your Majesty. I am but a lowly maid. I can’t drink the queen’s wine."

  She grinned. "I insist." She took a big gulp. "It's delightful, you'll love it."

  I lifted the cup from her hand and held it to my mouth. So this was God's answer.

  Chapter 21

  Princess Charlotte

  THE MOMENT I WOKE UP, I knew something was off. I must've fallen asleep while comforting Milly because I wasn't sure when she had slipped out. I rushed to get ready and hustled into the hallway. The sun was high in the sky, splashing a cheerful yellow onto the usually gray walls. Servants rushed around the hallways, carrying large white floral arrangements, no doubt preparing for the wedding which was set to begin in a week or two, depending on how quickly things came together. I headed for the servant’s quarters.

  "There you are, Princess."

  My stomach tightened. I turned to see Emmett, an arch of white roses framing him for a moment before the servants carried it past.

  He smiled brightly. "I feel I haven't been able to spend much time with my beloved since we arrived." He plucked a white rose from a passing bouquet and handed it to me. The acid in my stomach bubbled but I feigned a smile. He continued. "Can I interest you in a walk on the grounds?"

  Only a few steps from the servant's quarters, my escape, I glanced over my shoulder. "I-I... I have to—"

  He moved closer. "Surely you can spare a moment, Princess."

  I stepped back. "Actually, I have to—"

  "I insist," he said sharply. His ocean blue eyes darkened, sending a pang of fear through me. I took it and my hands instinctively clenched, causing the thorns from the white rose to prick me. On the surface, Emmett was a handsome and charming prince, but in a moment of disagreement, the predator within glared through.

  It was obvious to me that he was used to getting what he wanted, a trend I promised myself I'd break for him—but for the time being he had to believe I'd go through with the wedding. I had to play his game, but he was just a pawn and I wanted to find out if I had what it took to be a queen.

  I smiled and took his arm. In an instant, the predator dispersed and the charming prince returned. Although, people who are only charming when it suits them aren’t charming at all. He led me down the corridor.

  "Penelope, I need that dress mended before tomorrow," I said to a passing servant. I turned to a patrolling guard nearby. "Charlie, there's this drumming sound outside my chamber at all hours. Can you investigate?" They were false requests, but I needed someone to know that Emmett was taking me. I wanted someone to know which direction we went.

  "You are a busy girl, aren't you?" Emmett said. "Might I suggest you take a short break?"

  I gulped, too unnerved to meet his gaze and face the beast buried inside him.

  "Yes, my dear," I said as we slipped to a quieter part of the castle. If I screamed, the echo would carry. Someone would be able to hear, but then what? I needed Emmett to believe I wanted to ma
rry him. There was no Plan B. I needed to buy enough time for Vires to respond. My muscles stiffened as Emmett pulled me into a dark stairway. We walked silently down and up to a door that was familiar, though I couldn't remember what was on the other side. Emmett opened the door and gestured for me to enter. This was it. No one could hear me from in there.

  The door closed behind us and I stood at the edge of an overgrown atrium. The sound of running water pulled me toward the atrium's center. A small stream flowed through it, with stone bridges providing passage around the gardenesque courtyard, which was surrounded by castle walls on each side with green leafy plants crawling up each wall. The streams flowed through barred tunnels beneath the castle walls. The light came straight down from the open air above, and sunlight beamed through the long leafy branches of an overgrown willow tree. Dark purple flowers lined the stream. Why hadn't I remembered this place? It was like a dream.

  In my amazement, I'd briefly forgotten the dangerous situation I was in. This garden was secluded and I didn't want to imagine the kinds of things Emmett was capable of. I spun to find Emmett kneeling before me.

  "Princess," he said, grabbing my hand. "I never did get the chance to ask you officially to be my wife." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. My heart crashed into my ribs repeatedly. He opened the box to reveal a pink diamond the size of his irises. Of all the horrible scenarios I'd imagined, it had never occurred to me that Emmett might actually propose. My mind flashed to Young, sadness clawing at my stomach.

  Emmett gazed up at me with sincerity. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?"

  It was a beautiful proposal in a secret garden. Heat rushed to my face, filling my cheeks with a pronounced red. I couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of flattery and the way my mind continuously tripped on the word wife. My next move was clear—easy even. I'd simply accept his proposal and stall the wedding until the Viran troops arrived. Only I couldn't. Something about his sincerity made the lie seem unfair. I stared into his blue eyes, hoping to get a glimpse of the beast, but all I could see was the serene blue of the autumn sky on a cloudless day.