Snowstorm King

by H L Macfarlane

  “So you’re trying it out on me first?”

  “No,” he said. “I simply wanted to thank you.”

  Elina looked torn between leaving the throne room and returning to Kilian’s side once more. “I’ll be in the parlour room with Scarlett and Adrian in case you need me.”

  Kilian nodded.

  And then Elina was gone, leaving him alone on the throne, pretending to be king. Kilian felt like he was going to be violently sick; his stomach was churning and his heart palpitating so badly he wished for alcohol to calm his nerves. But he persisted, keeping his back straight and his face calm when, finally, a knock on the door signalled the arrival of his brother.

  Gabriel Hale looked regal even in the simple travelling clothes he was wearing as he entered the throne room. It was something about the way he held himself and walked with a purpose; when the two of them had been out in public Gabriel had always been recognised for what he was, whereas Kilian could slink off to a whorehouse without being noticed at all.

  The brothers shared the pale eyes and even paler hair of their father, but Gabriel’s jaw was more squared-off that Kilian’s, and his cheekbones wider. He had a handsome face that screamed trustworthy. And Gabriel was just as even-tempered as their father had been. He never had a cruel word to say about anyone, and he was diplomatic to a fault in arguments. Everything about him was perfectly suited for being king.

  Except that he had run away.

  “Gabriel,” Kilian drawled. “You don’t look all that missing to me.”

  His brother grinned. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes up there, Kilian. You actually got dressed properly to greet me!”

  He rolled his eyes. “Hardly. Where have you been? I’ve heard…conflicting reports about what’s been going on at the borders. Is it true the fighting is over?”

  Gabriel nodded. “There were some skirmishes I had to deal with that delayed the whole process, but yes. Thank you for dealing with those diplomats a few weeks back.”

  Kilian kept his suspicions from showing on his face. If the conversation Elina overheard was to be believed, then the fighting had been over weeks ago, and Gabriel was lying.

  “I was informed that you were missing,” he said, choosing his words very carefully. “I was worried.”

  Gabriel burst out laughing; the sound irked Kilian. “You, worried about me? I don’t think so Kilian. I thought you were a better liar than that. I know you were only concerned about me taking the throne off your hands.”

  “And is that not what you’ve returned to do? You are the king, after all. And god knows nobody wants me to do it – least of all me. You know how useless I am.”

  Something flashed across Gabriel’s face that Kilian didn’t like the look of at all. He stared at his brother sitting on the throne and shook his head. “Maybe you are useless, Kilian, but it’s because you never try. Can’t you put some effort into something for once?”

  “Why should I? I’m merely prince regent. The throne is yours, and now you’re back.”

  “No, Kilian. I’m not.”

  “…excuse me?”

  Gabriel ran a hand through his glossy hair. “This is a courtesy visit, brother. I won’t be back. I have no intention of taking the throne – of being tied to it. My heart belongs elsewhere.”

  Kilian stood up immediately, pounding down the steps from the throne to reach his brother. Gabriel was taller than him; Kilian hated that he was. “I was never meant to be king,” he seethed. “I’m not the one who should be trapped here.”

  “And yet you are. Father must have seen something –”

  “I know it was you!” Kilian screamed. “I know it was you who cursed me, Gabriel!”

  Gabriel seemed taken aback by this for a few moments, but then he schooled his expression and an easy smile crossed his lips. “I guess there’s no point in asking how you know that. Either way, you’re the one stuck in the castle, little brother. Not me.”

  Kilian glared at him. “Why did you do this to me? How could you do this to me?”

  “Because father wouldn’t,” Gabriel explained. “I begged him to do it. I didn’t want to stay here, on the mountainside. I wasn’t ready to be trapped in the castle; I still had so much I wanted to do.”

  “And you think I didn’t?!”

  Gabriel laughed incredulously. “Tell me, Kilian, what have you ever done with your life? Nothing. Some responsibility will do you good.”

  “I don’t want this!”

  “And neither do I.” Gabriel rounded on him, eyes glittering dangerously. “When father passed the curse on to me I guess he expected me to return from the borders as soon as I was sent word he was on his deathbed. For all he knew I had to, otherwise the curse would kill me. Tell me, how did he react when I never returned? Did he realise what I’d done – that I’d passed his damned magic on to you?”

  Kilian looked away. “I didn’t speak to him. I wasn’t even there when he died.”

  The laugh that was emitted from Gabriel’s mouth was warped and cruel. “But of course you didn’t. Classic, responsibility-shirking, closed-off Kilian at his finest. I suppose you get points for consistency, though had you only talked to father you’d have realised he never wanted you tied to the throne in the first place.”

  “You’re…unbelievable,” Kilian muttered. His hands were shaking; he curled them into fists. “Do you really think I’ll let you leave the castle knowing all this?”

  Gabriel shrugged. “And what can you do to keep me here? Nothing.”

  Kilian punched him in the face, but what he wasn’t expecting was a sharp pain in his stomach in return. He looked down.

  Gabriel had stabbed him.

  “You…son of a bitch…” Kilian breathed.

  “You won’t die from something so minor, little brother,” Gabriel said as he removed the knife and let it clatter to the floor. “I just need you incapacitated long enough for me to get far from here. Goodbye, Kilian.”

  Kilian didn’t stay conscious long enough to watch his brother leave.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Elina

  When Elina found Kilian passed out on the floor of the throne room in a pool of blood she screamed. She’d never been one for raising her voice before, but in the past few days she’d found herself being louder than she ever had been. Shouting at Kilian. Wailing at the weather because of Kilian. Crying out for Kilian.

  “Somebody help me!” she exclaimed, holding her hand to the wound in Kilian’s stomach and putting as much pressure on it as she dared. On the floor by his side lay an ornate dagger, its intricately carved blade stained crimson. “Why wasn’t anyone around to stop this?” she demanded when a couple of servants rushed into the room, followed by Scarlett and Adrian. “Why did nobody stop Gabriel?! Where is he?”

  One of the servants looked back towards the doors. “He – we didn’t know to stop him! We received no orders to detain him, and it’s not as if Prince Kilian kept any personal guards in the castle – he got rid them all!”

  Elina was too panicked to even be angry with Kilian for such a stupid move. Her eyes darted from Kilian’s ashen face to the servants and back again. “Call a doctor. There must be one in the – oh, no. Don’t say it.”

  They shook their heads sadly. “His Royal Highness let him go, too.”

  She almost pounded her fists on Kilian’s chest. “You’re an idiot!” she cried, not caring who heard her talk about the prince in such a way. But then Scarlett and Adrian knelt down beside her, and Scarlett calmly undid the buttons of Kilian’s overcoat and removed it. Elina could hardly look at the dark fabric stained even darker with his blood.

  “Elina, we’ll handle this,” Scarlett said. “Go ahead to Kilian’s room and wait for us there.”

  “But –”

  “Just do it,” she interrupted firmly. Elina had never heard Scarlett speak in such a commanding tone before, but she wasn’t in a position to protest. With one final, agonised look at Kilian’s deathly pale face
Elina got to her feet and stumbled to his chambers, flinging herself onto his bed when she reached it.

  She wished there was a storm outside to mask the sounds of her crying, but outside it was eerily calm. Elina hated the silence. She hated what it insinuated.

  “Don’t you dare die, you coward,” she muttered into a pillow. “Don’t you dare.”

  *

  Two hours passed before Kilian slowly came to. Adrian had propped him up in bed against several pillows; as soon as he began groaning and muttering Elina immediately roused from where she had been dozing, curled up beside him. She poured a glass of water and brought it to Kilian’s lips before he’d even opened his eyes.

  “I – hold on,” Kilian spluttered weakly. He waved the water away. “Give me a minute. Ah, that hurts…” He looked down at his now tightly-bandaged stomach, mildly impressed. “Who patched me up? There’s no doctor nearby.”

  “Scarlett did,” Adrian replied. The woman in question was asleep in front of the blazing fire; nobody made a move to wake her. “Care to tell us what exactly happened, Kilian? Though I imagine it’s not too difficult to put the pieces together.”

  Kilian took the glass of water from Elina and drank the entire thing before answering. “What I wouldn’t give for that to be vodka,” he joked, though his voice was strained as if trying to be funny physically hurt him. He took hold of Elina’s hand, which was shaking. “I’m okay, Elina. Even Gabriel said I wouldn’t die from the wound. I do not think he intended to kill me – merely to prevent me from going after him.”

  “That’s – that’s just as bad!” Elina cried, winding her fingers through Kilian’s in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. She wished Scarlett and Adrian weren’t in the room, so she could hide under the covers with Kilian and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

  But that would solve nothing, even though it was all she could do personally for Kilian. Elina had never felt so useless.

  Kilian smiled humourlessly. “Probably. Either way, he admitted to being the one who cursed me. He never wanted the throne, it seems. Clearly I should have tried harder to get to know my brother when I had the chance, then I might have seen this coming early enough to do something about it.”

  “Did he – did Gabriel say why he didn’t want the throne?” Elina asked uncertainly. “Did he mention the woman he’s supposed to have fallen for?”

  “I didn’t even get to ask about her. All Gabriel said was that he didn’t want to be trapped here when he still had so much he wanted to see and do. It’s not exactly a sentiment I don’t share.”

  “But being king was his responsibility, not yours!”

  Kilian stayed silent.

  After a few moments Adrian spoke up, though he sounded very much like he didn’t want to. “You know what you have to do to get out of this, don’t you?”

  “Does it really have to be this way?”

  “The only other way to remove the curse is for another blood relative to take it on. You have none, other than Gabriel, and he’s made it clear that he has no intention of holding the throne.”

  Elina stared at Adrian, confused. She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, Adrian? Kilian, what is it you have to do?”

  Kilian hesitated. “I have to kill him. I have to kill my brother.”

  “No!” she cried, horrified. “Why? Adrian, surely there’s something you can do? There must be another spell, or a counter-curse, or –”

  “Elina, the magic your father performed was very, very complicated. I’m still struggling to work out exactly what he did, and how he did it. The surest way to remove a curse once and for all is to destroy the one who cast it…trust me, I know this all too well.”

  Adrian’s eyes darted to Scarlett’s sleeping figure as he spoke, and he was relieved to see she hadn’t woken up. He smiled gently for Elina. “There is nothing else to be done about it. Kilian has to kill his brother.”

  “But, then…” Elina stared at her fingers entwined with Kilian’s. “If you kill your brother to free you of the curse, who will then be king?”

  Kilian laughed bitterly. “A problem for another day. I have to force Gabriel back to the castle first before we think about that.” He stared out of the window, a frown shadowing his brow. “How long was I unconscious?”

  “About two hours,” Elina said. “Why?”

  “Gabriel couldn’t have gotten far in two hours with all the snow on the ground, even with the fair weather this afternoon. He should still be in range to feel the full brunt of a tempestuous little brother.”

  “Kilian?”

  He grinned, eyes gleaming like the drunk madman Elina had first met. “Time to whip up one hell of a storm.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kilian

  Kilian had never so viciously enjoyed being in control of the weather. Though Elina wouldn’t let him leave his bed to sit by the window, he could still hear the horrendous noise of the storm and imagine the carnage it was causing just fine.

  It hadn’t been difficult for him to produce the storm. Kilian was in pain, and he was furious with his brother, as well as feeling betrayed. Part of him still couldn’t quite believe Gabriel had stabbed him, even if it wasn’t meant to be lethal.

  He came into the throne room knowing he’d have to do something like that to keep me from stopping him, Kilian thought, barely keeping his temper in check at the memory of the cold, icy blade sliding into his stomach. If I ever had any qualms about killing Gabriel before, I don’t now.

  The plan was simple enough; if Gabriel was to have a hope of leaving the mountainside then he’d have to come and make his peace with Kilian. When he showed up, he’d be taken to Kilian’s rooms to talk to him. Then, when he got close enough, Kilian would cut him with a knife coated in an evil-looking poison Adrian had given him. The blade would barely have to scratch the surface of Gabriel’s skin; all the poison needed was one, tiny entryway to his bloodstream.

  “Easy enough,” Kilian muttered, stomach smarting when he tried to reposition himself in bed. Scarlett had done a superb job of tending to the stab wound – it wasn’t even bleeding any more. But internally he was still suffering, and the plant extracts Kilian had been given to help with the pain were beginning to wear off.

  Good, he thought. Let the pain make the blizzard even worse.

  Four hours had passed since Kilian woke up. It was dark outside, and almost time for most people to retire to bed. Dully he thought that he’d rather like to join them in that regard; to fall back against the pillows with Elina in his arms, warm and safe and thinking of nothing but each other. But that was something to look forward to after the not-so-simple task of murdering his brother. Kilian grimaced at the thought.

  And then…

  He couldn’t shake what Elina had asked upon finding out that Kilian would have to kill Gabriel. Who would be king once Kilian was free of the throne? Although he wanted nothing more than to run away and never think about it ever again, Kilian knew that he couldn’t. Not if he wanted Elina to stay by his side and respect him as a human being. He couldn’t leave the country in upheaval. He couldn’t allow Alder to struggle through the next winter with no provisions put in place to help against awful mountainside weather.

  When he heard a knock on the door Kilian flinched. “Who is it?”

  A pause. “You know who it is, brother.”

  Gritting his teeth against what was to come next, Kilian called out, “Come in, then.”

  Gabriel was completely soaked through and half-covered in ice. When Kilian indicated towards a chair deliberately placed by his bedside, Gabriel instead headed straight for the fire to warm up his hands.

  “I won’t apologise for what I did,” he said, back turned to Kilian as he basked in the heat from the flames.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. And yet you’re here because you have to ask me to let you leave, which stabbing me was supposed to prevent. Clearly you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

  Gabriel chuc
kled. “Or perhaps I underestimated how petty you are, Kilian.”

  “I wouldn’t call my reaction to being stabbed petty.”

  “…I guess not. Let me leave, little brother.”

  “And why should I?”

  Gabriel left the heat of the fireplace to sit down in the chair by Kilian’s bed. He locked his eyes on his brother, running a hand through his sodden, frozen hair to push it away from his face.

  “There’s a woman, Kilian,” he said very quietly. “I met her last year, at a ball. I never thought I’d see her again, but in summer she was travelling through our country. I spent some time with her, and fell completely in love with her. When the fighting broke out at the border I begged for her to go back to her home country, but she would not go. I wrote her so many letters before I was forced to travel down there myself.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “She’s so stubborn. I knew I couldn’t face never seeing her again, but I couldn’t ask her to give up her freedom and live in this forsaken castle just for me, either. That’s the main reason I passed the curse onto you, Kilian. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have been able to be with the woman I love.”

  Kilian said nothing. His hand was wrapped around the handle of the poison-soaked knife. All he had to do was reach out and nick Gabriel’s hand. But his brother’s words were keeping him from moving, for of course he understood exactly how Gabriel was feeling.

  “…did you not think I felt the same way, Gabriel?” Kilian asked, so softly his words were almost lost to the wind and the roar of the fire. “That I didn’t want to be stuck here all alone?”

  Gabriel eyed him awkwardly. “You – you’ve always been alone, Kilian. You never wanted to be with anyone, and that certainly didn’t seem to change when you reached adulthood. You never loved anybody.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it. Don’t try to deflect responsibility by believing me incapable of love.”

  “Our parents are dead, Kilian. Who is there left for you?”

  Kilian was overwhelmed by a wave of anger at such a remark. “You truly think I couldn’t meet somebody new to care for?” he accused, eyes blazing. “Do you believe nobody would be able to put up with me long enough to care about me back? Is that it?”