by Everly Frost
“Fate plays tricks,” he says, his voice breaking in a way that claws at my heart. “If you can heal them… No.” He shakes his head. “Even fate isn’t that cruel.”
I don’t understand him. I don’t understand the source of his pain or what he means by cruelty. Maybe it’s because I’m the champion he has sworn to kill.
That has to be it.
He’s regretting making the challenge because if he wins, he’ll give his King control of fae lands, but he’ll doom his people to a disease without a cure.
Except that… he chose to invoke the Law after he saw what I did.
I swallow a moan of frustration. He is a deep mystery to me and I’m afraid that the deeper I dig into his motives, the more I’ll drown.
Chapter 8
“Aura!” Talsa sweeps toward us along the platform, rushing to my side as she turns a warning glare on Nathaniel, but her worry is for me. “Are you okay?’
My voice wobbles, but I calm myself quickly. “Yes.”
“Then you need to get ready. The fight for your position is in two hours. You need to rest and prepare.”
“I can’t let Nathaniel out of my sight,” I say, unable to keep the strain from my voice. “Until the Queen makes a public announcement, his life is in danger.”
Her assessment of him changes. “He could get rid of that pelt. Then he would pass for a fae.”
“Except to those who already know who he is,” I say, but she’s not wrong. If he’s willing to give up the fur, then he won’t draw as much attention.
I give his perfect form a cursory glance.
Or perhaps he will. But at least, it will be the kind of attention that Mia wants to give him and not the kind that could kill him.
Nathaniel’s emotions are hidden again. He’s frustratingly blank. Without me asking, he unclasps the fur and hands it to Talsa.
She recoils from it. “I can’t touch that! We don’t kill animals.” She shudders. “You may as well ask me to bathe in their blood.”
Without a word, he holds the fur out to me instead. Goosebumps rise along his skin as he waits for me to take it. Undoubtedly, the pelt was keeping him warm. My armor is designed to stave off the cold wind—especially at heights like this. He’s only wearing long pants now, which were perfectly fine for the dank, humid woods at the border, but he’ll suffer from frost sickness if I don’t get him something warmer—and quickly.
I drag the fur into my arms. “Talsa, will you please find Nathaniel a fleece? Preferably one that a Harvest fae would wear, since the color of his hair and eyes most closely matches that class.”
“Only if you promise to come down from this tower and prepare for your fight,” she says pointedly.
I give her a quick nod, deciding that it’s up to Nathaniel whether he chooses to follow me or go on his own way. If he hurts anyone, he’ll die. He healed Evander already, so my reason for trying to keep Nathaniel alive is over.
In fact, it might be better if he takes off for the next three days…
No such luck. His heavy footsteps follow me down the staircase and back toward the Inner Sanctuary.
Talsa quickly deviates in search of a fleece, returning to my side just as we approach the Sanctuary. She hands Nathaniel a warm coat fashioned from sheep’s wool, which he takes, again without speaking. In fact, he hasn’t said a word since he spoke about fate, and his silence is beginning to worry me. He’s not exactly the talkative type, but he usually has something to say.
The fleece is the color of clay and brings out the darkness in his hair and eyes when he pulls it across his shoulders. The thickness of the material makes his shoulders appear wider and his chest broader. Now he looks like a Harvest fae—or rather, a larger-than-normal Harvest fae.
When he stops shivering, I wonder if his silence was simply an effort to conserve energy.
Shaking off my uncertainty, I veer sharply right to a set of steps beside the Inner Sanctuary, ascending them to the Queen’s private tower. The Day Guards step aside at the top of the stairs to let me pass, but they don’t look happy about Nathaniel’s presence.
They’ll just have to live with it.
Many of the rooms in the palace are public spaces. Some are open to the outdoors. One wing of the palace leads down to the Spinning Lake where Frost fae gather to lend their power to those who want to skate across the lake’s icy surface for fun.
But the Queen’s Tower is off-limits except to the rare few: me, her guard, and the men she invites to her bed.
Despite its name, the Queen’s Tower is wide and squat, making up for its shorter height with three levels of sprawling bedrooms interconnected with stairs.
Passing the guard’s barracks on the lower two levels, we ascend onto the upper floor. Here the corridor is wide and beautifully decorated with living plants and intricate tapestries.
I pass multiple rooms before I pause at the first closed door, pushing it open to reveal a small room with a bed, closet, chest of drawers, and small mirror. All of the furniture is the color of gray pebbles.
Nathaniel looms beside me, looking unimpressed, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “You keep a room ready for prisoners. I’m honored.”
I cast him a cold, hard stare. “This is my room. Yours is the one we just passed.”
His eyebrows rise as he takes a second look at my room.
Sure, to an outsider, it probably looks bleak. If he opens the closet and drawers, he’ll find more of the same colorless existence. The closet contains indigo armor and weapons. The small chest of drawers contains my underwear and training clothes—mostly black. I don’t indulge in frills and trinkets like other fae.
Most fae think it’s because I’m cold.
Nathaniel disappears, stops at the open door we just passed, and stares into the room that’s going to be his for the next three nights. I pass it every day, so I know what it looks like inside: distinctly masculine, comfortably furnished, with a very large bed. Every now and then, the Queen’s bed partners stay longer than a night, but she has rules—she never falls asleep with them, and I sleep between them and her. Because their power is weaker than hers, she isn’t worried about being alone with them. It’s the women she needs protection from. Even so, she never keeps any man for long. She loves our people, but she has never committed to any particular one of them.
Leaving Nathaniel to ponder his room, I cross my own room to fold up his pelt and deposit it in the bottom of my closet. Then I proceed to the window at the end of my bed, preparing to pull shut the heavy shutters to block out the sun’s light.
I sigh when Nathaniel looms in my doorway again.
“Is this by choice?” he asks.
I tug the first shutter closed. “By this, I assume you mean my room.”
“It’s not what I expected.”
I shrug. “I don’t like clutter. I like simplicity.”
“Why?”
I turn to find him leaning up against the wall inside the open door. Coming inside my room is a liberty I wasn’t expecting him to take. I should probably be suspicious of every question he asks me—every move he makes. He’ll want to know as much about me as he can so he can defeat me.
“It’s the only way I can fall asleep.”
“Huh.” A slight crease appears in his forehead as he crosses to the window before I can shut it fully.
The Spinning Lake glistens far below us, its surface smoothed out and shining. The city sprawls beyond it, buildings made of earthy stone gleaming in the sunlight.
I’m surprised he hasn’t asked me more. My answer wasn’t exactly enlightening. The cold expanse that fills my mind when I try to remember my family also fills my mind when I try to sleep. I can’t sleep in places that are cluttered with color and objects. Even the cupboards in this room are nearly too much for me. If I could strip the room down to a soft surface and darkness…
“I can fall asleep anywhere,” Nathaniel says, peering through the glass at the frosty expanse outside. “It’s being awake that
’s hard.”
Before I can ask him more, he points downward. “What is that?”
“The Spinning Lake.”
He makes a face as if it’s the most idiotic thing he’s ever heard. “It’s not spinning.”
I roll my eyes. “You can’t see it in winter because it’s frozen. When it thaws, the water spins gently round and round in the same direction. There’s a diamond in the center, far beneath the surface.”
“The diamond is hidden, but you know it’s there,” he says with a smug smile. “A bit like the concealed door in your wall.”
Somehow, all of our conversations end with me glaring at him.
The wall between my bedroom and the Queen’s is thin enough that I can hear if anything’s wrong. There’s also a hidden door that allows me to access the Queen’s room if she’s ever threatened. Only the champion is supposed to know about it, but Nathaniel identified it in a heartbeat.
He’s perceptive, I’ll give him that.
Still, it would be nice if a glare could erase him from my life.
“I need to rest,” I say firmly. “That fleece you’re wearing will only protect you for so long. If you don’t want to die, I suggest you stay in your room.”
He shrugs his shoulders, reminding me of a careless bear as he lumbers away from me, but he pauses in the doorway. “Why a single arrow?”
I stare at him. “What?”
“You’ve chosen to fight Calida with a bow and a single arrow. Why?”
I inhale and exhale. The answer to this question could reveal more than I want about how I strategize when I fight. I opt for the truth, but only about Calida. “Because my opponent is lazy and unimaginative.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“That’s the best you’re getting.”
He shrugs and closes the door behind him.
Finally alone, I sink to my bed. I need a bath—would give anything to fill the small tub that sits inside the equally small bathroom at the end of my room—but I won’t be getting one anytime soon. Sleep is more important. I’ve been awake for nearly twenty-four hours and I have less than two hours until I need to get dressed again.
I finish shuttering the windows, dropping myself into darkness before I peel off my damaged armor, strip off my underwear, and slide under the cool sheets completely naked.
Curling my knees to my chest, I try to calm my mind, but the room isn’t dark enough. A glow at the edge of my vision forces my eyes open again. There must be a crack between the shutters…
The glow’s coming from my chest. Right above my heart.
Right where Nathaniel touched me.
Curse the stars.
I creep across to my drawers, pull out the thickest training shirt I own, wad it up, and press it over my chest, blocking out the light as best I can before I crawl back into bed.
I can’t breathe.
A weight presses against my chest and all I can see is darkness. Spinning darkness. A cold expanse presses in on me, crushing my chest, freezing my heart, and the more I flail and try to get away from it, the harder it squeezes until I’m frozen and falling. Falling through darkness like a stone. I can’t move my arms or legs. Can’t breathe. Can’t feel…
A scream pierces the air around me and consciousness rushes back in.
I open my eyes to find myself still in my room. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. The freezing pressure is gone. My heart is beating. I can breathe again.
Two new weights press against my shoulders, but these aren’t cold.
“Aura!” Nathaniel leans over me, one hand pressed to each of my shoulders. His eyes search mine as he whispers, “Wake up.”
I blink at him.
Light streams around us, but my shutters aren’t open. I’m glowing at my shoulders and my heart, casting light and shadow across his face.
I’m not lying in my bed, but beside it on the floor. The sheets are tangled around me. He’s kneeling beside me, his fleece coat draping across my frame as he leans over me. The most shocking part isn’t that I’m naked beneath the sheets but that I don’t feel a shred of fear that he found me like this.
I try to clear my head. “What happened?”
“You must have fallen out of bed. I heard the thump from the corridor,” he says.
I stare up at him, wishing I could see beyond the strands of his hair that fall across his face and obscure his expression. “I’ve never fallen out of bed before.”
He shrugs, a hint of a smile playing with his mouth. “It’s not something anyone plans to do.”
“Right.” I tug at the sheets, checking to make sure they’re covering all my important bits. Luckily, they’re charcoal gray. White sheets wouldn’t hide much at all.
He releases my shoulders and the light recedes, fading from my skin. “You don’t have to tell me why this happens,” he says, leaning forward again and running his finger across the top of my shoulder, making light play across his hand. “But I know it shouldn’t.”
I shiver, suddenly focused on his lips. They make such perfect sounds. Like his chest. When he speaks it’s a rumbling sound that reminds me of a dragon that’s carefully controlling its strength and power.
His entire palm presses against the side of my neck beneath my left ear. His fingers curl into my loose hair while his thumb strokes across my jawline, his gaze following the soft white glow that forms and fades as he moves.
“Don’t die today,” he whispers.
I blink at him in surprise. Why would he care? “Calida isn’t strong enough to kill me.”
He presses his lips together in a firm line as his eyes meet mine. “Desperation makes people dangerous.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “She’s ambitious, not desperate—”
“I know darkness when I see it.”
My lips part. A stubborn denial rises inside me, but I push it away. The coliseum is the only place where fae are allowed to fight to the death. In any other circumstance, killing is only permitted by order of the Queen.
I challenge him. “Do you see darkness in me?”
A suddenly broad smile breaks across his face. He shakes his head at me, a slow side-to-side motion, a laugh in his voice. “None at all.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was teasing me.
His smile fades, becoming serious, as if he were suddenly reminded of something. Or as if he’d given himself a mental slap. His eyes are deadly serious as he says, “Even at your worst, there’s no darkness in you.”
At my worst? What does he know of my worst? He must be thinking about how we fought each other this morning. After all, I did hold a knife to his neck and would have slit his throat if he hadn’t spoken about his mother.
I want to ask him about her, but he straightens and leans back on his heels. “The Day Guards will gather outside at any minute,” he says, rising to his feet. “I heard Talsa say she was getting armor for your fight and then she’d wake you up. That’s why I came out of my room. I’ll open the windows.”
Sitting up, I press the sheet to my chest, watching him as he strides to the window and opens the shutters.
“It’s better if I’m not here when she gets here,” he says.
He’s gone within seconds.
I rise to my feet, still pressing the sheet across my body.
Before I can process our interaction, Talsa slips inside the room. She stops when she sees the open window.
“You’re awake. Just as well. I let you sleep as long as possible, so you’ll need to hurry.”
Her hands are laden with clothing and she’s also juggling a flask of sugar water, which she slides onto the top of the drawers before she lays out the clothing on the bed.
There’s not much to the armor. Straps to cover my breasts. A pair of very tight, very short shorts to cover my pelvis. I won’t be able to wear any sort of heavy armor in the desert environment that Calida has chosen or heat sickness will knock me out. What takes up the most space in Talsa’s arms is a snowy-white fl
eece that will keep me warm on the walk to the coliseum.
“Thank you,” I murmur. She doesn’t have to take care of me. I usually do all of this by myself.
She pauses in the middle of my room. “I know that one day… I might want to challenge you. But that doesn’t mean we have to be enemies.” She smooths down the front of her indigo dress. She’s been awake as long as I have and the strain is starting to show around her eyes. “I sure as stars don’t want Calida to win today.”
She gives me a smile and I return it, saying, “You should be asleep already. Nadina and the Day Guards will take care of the Queen now. I appreciate all you’ve done for me this morning, but it’s time for you to get some rest.”
She shakes her head. “There’s no way I’m going to miss the fight. I’ll be standing behind the Queen’s podium. Evander will be there too.”
He should be resting, but he’s never missed any of my challenges.
“How is he?” I ask.
She smiles. “Much better. All of the affected Border Guards are recovering well in the infirmary.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” I clear my throat. “Okay, well, please keep an eye out for Nathaniel then. I won’t be able to watch him while I’m fighting.”
“You don’t have to worry about drama. The Queen made an announcement while you slept,” she says. “Nathaniel is not to be harmed. She’s seating him alongside her on her podium.”
“Really? That’s unexpected.”
“Nadina doesn’t like it, either,” she says.
I try to shake off my misgivings. It’s not my place to question the Queen’s decisions. “Thank you, Talsa. I’ll look for you in the crowd.”
After she leaves, I dress quickly, braid my hair, drink as much water as I can, and cast a critical eye over myself in the mirror. My hair is such a pale shade of blonde that it looks white. I’m not sure if it was ever lustrous. The ends are so dull these days that I try to keep it tied into tight braids to hide it. Dark rings have formed beneath my eyes, stealing away the deep forest green of my irises and leaving them hollow-looking.
