by Everly Frost
“What’s wrong?” I murmur.
He leans down toward me, a slow lean, his lips close to my cheek, as if he’s about to tell me a secret.
“Nothing,” he whispers, the timber of his voice making me shiver. “But right now, every woman in this room wants to kill you and every man wants to take my place.”
His thumb grazes the back of my arm again and the air around us glows as my magic shimmers at his touch. I’m suddenly aware of a lull around me. The men and women closest to me have turned in my direction, already focused on me. Just like Nathaniel said, the three women closest to me shoot death stares at me while their male partners look me up and down. One of the men has the nerve to lick his lips.
The Queen herself half-turns, as if she’s not sure what the matter is. Her forehead pinches, her sharp gaze quickly taking in the scene behind her. She definitely won’t like losing everyone’s attention.
Nathaniel’s command is lazy and soft. “Remember, Aura: a weapon, not a weakness.”
My eyelids lower as I inhale and allow a smile to settle onto my lips before I raise my hand and curl my fingers around his bicep. I sway into him for a second. “Come with me.”
He focuses entirely on me as I lead him past the Queen toward the slightly elevated platform where couples are already dancing. The heavy beat thuds through me and the floor lights up under my feet as I move, starlight playing across my feet and casting up across the surrounding dancers’ bodies.
I check out the other fae beneath my eyelashes. I don’t see Evander or Talsa anywhere—they must still be at the border—but Serena tips her glass at me as we pass by. She’s wearing a black dress that covers her body from neck to toe. I guess she’s no longer angry at me about my decision to let Calida live.
Unlike Nadina, who is standing guard next to the Queen, Mia—the head of the Night Guard—is dressed in a cobalt blue evening gown and is already hugging both a drink and a man. She’s too engrossed in tangling tongues with him to pay any attention to me.
I pull Nathaniel close as the music continues. A group of Eventide fae are gathered at one side of the dance floor strumming instruments and creating a deep beat.
Ignoring the stares from the dancers around us, I whisper into Nathaniel’s ear, “I don’t know how to dance. I’m just pretending right now.”
I must have lost my senses. There’s no way I can sustain any attention in an environment like this. Give me a combat arena—I know what I’m supposed to do in a fight. Here, I’m destined to botch the steps and ruin my sultry illusion in two seconds flat.
The light in his eyes grows brighter. “It’s just like fighting,” he says, immediately catching me around my waist before spinning me around. “Moves and countermoves.”
I guess I can do that then.
I catch my breath as he clasps my waist and my right hand, moving me in a slow beat before spinning me again—leisurely this time. As he pulls me close to his chest, an intent expression grows on his face. I may not know how to dance, but he seems very certain which way he wants me to move—even how he wants me to move—communicating using the press and pull of his hands and arms in a way that feels like a building storm.
Moving me backward, he glides his hand down the back of my thigh before he pulls me so close to his chest that I tilt my head back. Drawing us to a standstill, he hooks my leg around his hips in time with the music, every movement paced and rhythmic. He bends me backward at the waist, causing my back to arch in a way that feels intensely freeing, before he pulls me up again. It was an intimate move, and… damn, it felt good.
I’ve never partied before. Despite the fact that the ball is a celebration for everyone who succeeds during the Winter Ascending—which technically includes me—I’ve always spent the evening remaining dutifully at the Queen’s side. My job was always to deflect any unwanted attempts to gain her attention while encouraging the chosen few. This is the first time I’m free to do what I want.
As Nathaniel leads me around the dance floor, I draw closer to him, matching his steps, my heart growing impossibly light. His steps follow a pattern that I soon pick up, a rhythmic series of moves and countermoves, just like he said, all of them keeping us close. Even when he spins me away from him, it’s like he only does it so that he can reel me back in, the gaps between our bodies as intense as the nearness.
We remain on the dance floor for so long that the other fae fade into the background and I forget their intermittent stares in my direction. Even the Queen’s sharp glances stop having an impact. I’m spilling starlight everywhere, but it’s soft, not dangerous to anyone, and the more I glow, the lighter I feel.
Nathaniel’s steps grow slower, even though the music speeds up. He finally stops moving and brushes a strand of hair from my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
“For dancing with you like that.”
I smile, puzzled by the sincerity of his apology. “It’s just a dance. Why would it be a problem?”
His mouth hitches up into a smile that makes my heart do an odd flip. “My people don’t have many traditions left, but that dance is reserved for a particular purpose.”
Despite the fact that he’s keeping me in the dark, his smile is contagious. I find myself smiling back at him. “Then… enlighten me.”
“Hmm.” He shakes his head, his hands warm and strong around my waist. “No.”
I’m not giving up so easily. I run my fingers across his jaw to tuck my hand behind his neck. “It must be an important dance, then.”
“Maybe.”
I throw out the most outrageous possibility I can think of. “Don’t tell me… you just declared your love with that dance.”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
My smile falls. Dear stars…
The lightness in my heart evaporates. My demand is sharp. “Why did you dance like that with me then?”
He shrugs again, a careful rise and fall of his shoulders. “It’s the only dance I know.”
I was the one who pulled him onto the dance floor—only to promptly tell him that I didn’t know how to dance. I can’t be confused or emotional or even angry about his decision to dance the only steps he knows.
I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. “I think we should take a break from dancing.”
Tugging him from the dance floor, I navigate through the press of bodies to an empty couch on the far side of the room beside the open wall looking out over the city. The couch is conveniently located beside a table laden with food and drinks—cakes and pastries on tiny plates made of edible leaves, and sweet alcoholic drinks in bluebell cups. I scoop up two oversized flower cups filled with water and hand one to Nathaniel as we sink into the couch.
Fae come and go, snatching up new drinks and food as we sit with silence between us.
Our peace doesn’t last long before Mia sashays over to us and slides onto the couch beside me. Her tongue-wrestling companion isn’t anywhere to be seen. She pats my knee in an overly familiar gesture, her breath sweetly intoxicated. “You’re having fun with your prey.”
She fixates on Nathaniel as she speaks, reminding me of how much interest she showed in him when she first saw him.
Inwardly, I sigh. Maintaining my aggressive guard persona is draining.
Still, I give her the answer she expects.
“I’m stuck with him for the next two days. Just because I’m going to kill him doesn’t mean I don’t get to play with him first.”
“Can I play too?” she asks. Her hungry gaze openly devours Nathaniel. “I could do with a little bit of wickedness in my life.”
From the corner of my eye, I discern Nathaniel’s dark aggression growing—except that I’m not sure whether his anger is directed at her or me.
There’s a fine line between pretending to put Nathaniel in danger and actually putting him in danger. I’m suddenly teetering on the edge of a situation of my own making—a situation I really don’t like or want.
I force a laugh. Luckily, Mia seems too drunk to notice how fake it sounds. “Only if you don’t mind me watching,” I say. “He can’t leave my sight.”
“Ugh.” She makes a face and throws herself into the back of the couch. “I don’t like to share.”
I take a breath of relief, hiding it behind my cup as I take another sip from it.
Recovering quickly, Mia edges up to me again, dropping her chin onto my shoulder, a conspiratorial whisper on her lips. “You know… I’m not convinced that the Fell are all that bad. Just look at him. He’s not monstrous. Imagine the beautiful babies we could make.”
“Hush,” I say. “You’ve clearly had too much to drink.”
Mia isn’t my friend, but to speak like that is treason. Even with the loud music, there are too many fae within hearing distance—not to mention many Frost fae who can pluck our conversation out of the air if they choose. My senses stretch to a screaming point as I try to tell if we’re already being listened to. It’s hard to know when the breeze wafts past us through the wide-open wall.
She persists. “You’ve killed plenty of Fell, Aura. But I’ve never fought a single one. Are the others like him?”
Nathaniel is so tense beside me now that I can feel the muscles of his thigh and arm pressing against my side. I’m afraid of what I’ll see if I look him in the eye. For nearly a day, I’ve been able to forget that I killed his people—and that I did it without question or hesitation.
I grit my teeth against the deep regret and guilt I will never atone for. “If you mean are they brave? Yes, they are. Now, how about a drink of water?”
She waves away my suggestion, sinking back into the couch and rubbing her forehead. “I really thought I could beat you. The Queen told me I could.”
I’m confused. “What are you talking about?”
“She told me to challenge you. She said I could win. Just like she convinced Calida to fight you. Poor, wretched Calida. Her family have locked her away. They won’t let her out until the memory of her shame fades.” Mia rolls her eyes. “As if that will happen any time soon.”
I’m stiff beside Mia as she leans closer, her breathy whispers so thickly intoxicated that she clearly has no filter, a dangerous verbal stream slipping from her mouth. “The Queen told Calida that she wouldn’t heal Calida’s niece unless Calida beat you today.”
I stare at Mia, confused. “But… I healed that girl.”
“It doesn’t matter. The Queen controls who sees you. Nobody gets your help without giving something to the Queen in return. As soon as you healed her niece, Calida was doomed. She was supposed to hold up her end of the bargain but she failed to beat you. Now her family is terrified that the little girl will get sick again. Children are dying, Aura. Children whose parents won’t do what the Queen wants…”
The sudden breeze across my mouth can’t be a good thing.
I slap my hand over Mia’s lips to stop her speaking, leaning over her as far as I can to hide what I’m doing. Only the stars know what my gesture looks like. I slip one arm around her shoulders as if I’m hugging her.
“Hush now,” I hiss.
Her pale blue eyes widen—a moment of sobriety. She groans when I remove my hand. “I’ve had too many bluebells.”
“You’re spouting complete nonsense,” I say, loudly this time. “It’s time to go find your man and finish the evening with him.”
She pats my leg, her overly bright eyes searching the room as she wobbles to her feet. “Good idea. Where did he go…?”
Her sparkling dress drags behind her as she meanders through the thinning crowd. By now, many couples are starting to disappear together.
As reluctant as I am to face Nathaniel, I half-twist toward him. “We need to get out of here. Will you come outside with me?”
“It’s freezing out there,” he says.
I shake my head. “Trust me.”
It’s a bad choice of words. I swallow and try again. “There are coats hanging along the wall for us to take.”
I can’t sit still. Surging to my feet, I catch his hand, grateful when he doesn’t fight me. Pushing through the increasingly intoxicated couples, I catch sight of the Queen sitting on her silver seat on the opposite side of the room. Several men and women lounge around her and Nadina stands guard at her back.
I don’t miss being there.
That thought nearly stops me in my tracks.
I’ve spent every waking moment for the last seven years at the Queen’s side, but within the space of a day, my life’s goal has been turned on its head. I don’t know whom I was protecting—who my Queen really is—and that uncertainty has brought me a strange new freedom.
My hand closes more tightly around Nathaniel’s, the simple act of pressing my palm to his making me shiver and glow.
Veering toward the coats, I snatch two of them and hand one to him. I also choose a pair of sturdy wool-lined boots to cover my bare feet. The boots are specially designed so I won’t slip on the ice. The shoes Nathaniel’s wearing are already safe to wear outside.
Pulling on the coat and tucking my hair into the hood, I step through the invisible barrier keeping the warmth inside.
As I step into the freezing air outside, I breathe out the prison bars I willingly accepted into my life—the Queen, my purpose, and all of her rules.
Chapter 20
Turning to Nathaniel, I find his expression shadowed, his emotions hidden. I can’t read his thoughts and… it scares me. I need to know what he’s thinking. He danced with me in a way that meant something to him… and then Mia reminded him that I’m a killer.
Lamplight spills around us. The palace extends onto an outdoor platform that leads to a wide marble staircase. It’s nearly fifty steps down to the frozen lake.
“You asked me about the Spinning Lake,” I say, needing to fill the silence. I hold out my hand, this time giving him a choice. “Would you like to stand on it?”
He gives me a silent nod, but it feels forced.
Halfway down the stairs, I can’t stand the tension between us anymore. I stop walking, trying to find the words as I stare across the sparkling city. All the glitter hides so much darkness.
“You said I have to mistreat you, but I won’t do that anymore,” I say. “My people will whisper about me no matter what I do. To some of them, I’m already a traitor. I was tainted the moment that I touched you. I betrayed them the moment that I brought you across the border. All I have for the next two days are my conscience and my heart. I won’t destroy who I am.”
He stands a pace away from me, a scarily strong man who has allowed me to abuse him when he could have snapped my neck with his bare hands. And yet… he’s taken every verbal and physical beating I’ve given him.
My voice clams up in my throat, but I force myself to keep speaking. “I’m sorry I never talked to your people. I never asked them why they came to the border. I killed them and I didn’t even—”
“Don’t.”
That single command, spoken with conviction, silences me.
Without another word, he strides ahead of me down the stairs. It only now dawns on me the number of times he’s seen my back and been forced to walk behind me. We’re supposed to remain within each other’s sight at all times, but it doesn’t seem to prevent one of us from turning our back on the other.
It’s my turn to follow him, all the way down to the quiet lake. Sunrise is only a few hours away and most of the celebrations across the city are winding down. We’re far enough away from the palace that the music is a faint murmur in the distance.
The lake stretches a hundred paces in each direction, surrounded by intricately designed gardens, but my favorite part—other than the water itself—is the thick copse of whisper willows situated on the righthand side of the lake beyond the garden.
Nathaniel stops at the edge of the lake, facing away from me.
I can’t breathe properly as I come up behind him.
The dress itches. My skin, my heart, my
mind—nothing is as it should be and the dress is the last straw.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I reach his side.
He looks at me as if he thinks I’m going to restart the conversation he shut down before, but I’m already shimmying around inside my coat as my breath frosts in the air. “I just have to…”
I wriggle around within the confines of the large fleece, unclasping the dress with great difficulty and a good dose of cursing, before I finally manage to rip the damn thing off.
I groan with relief.
Pulling the coat tight around myself to stay warm, I ball up the dress and pitch it into the bushes at the side of the lake. Someone else can have it.
“I don’t care how much that dress messed with everyone’s heads, it wasn’t me.”
“We all wear personas,” he says. “Sometimes we are what people think we are. Other times we are what we need to be. Rarely… we are ourselves.”
I shiver as I wonder: Who is he right now? Is he acting out a persona or is he actually being himself? How would I tell the difference?
“Tell me again about this lake,” he says. His voice is low. A hint of forgiveness.
I point toward the center. “A diamond sits deep down in the middle. The water spins around it in summer and stays frozen in winter. Imatra created both the diamond and the lake to commemorate the fae who lost their lives in the last attack.”
“It’s an unusual monument.”
“Sure, it’s strange, but it’s also beautiful.” On impulse, I step onto the ice. “You can see the diamond if you lie on the surface.”
“You’ll freeze.”
“You’ll keep me warm.” I pace out onto the middle of the lake, searching for the slightly brighter glow right in the center. When I find it, I wave him over. “Here.”
The coat is long enough for me to tuck my legs into it. Carefully, I curl my knees under myself, making sure the uncovered parts of my shins are lying on the inside of the fleece. Then I tuck my hands into the sleeves. I press them onto the lake’s surface while leaning my face close to it. “You won’t see the diamond unless you get up close,” I say.
