His story was simple enough, but a shadow in his eyes suggested he was holding something back. I opened my mouth to ask what he was hiding, but his eyes flicked to his sisters. A crease appeared on his forehead as he watched the way they sat calmly on the seats, Emmeline watching the dark forest move past the window.
I shut my mouth again but determined I would find a chance to talk to the mysterious prince in private. Soon.
“And now it’s your turn,” he said, returning his attention to me. “I want to hear about this thirteen-year-old.”
I told the story as succinctly as I could. Oliver seemed as unconcerned with the news that our entourage was likely alive and relatively unharmed as his sisters had been, and my rapidly rising opinion of him dropped sharply. He seemed a little more interested in Lord Treestone and in his niece’s desperate assertions that something was very wrong in Eldon.
But he said nothing more than, “Hmmm…”, making no effort to discuss it with me. When his eyes again flicked over to his sisters, I refrained from pushing the matter. At least he didn’t seem intent on punishing Lord Treestone for the abduction. Despite being one of the main victims, I empathized with the noble’s desperation and had no desire to see him stripped of his land and titles, or executed, or something. Now that we were free, it was actually somewhat reassuring to me to know that at least one other person in this kingdom had an interest in finding out the truth of what was going on. And that person had access to at least some resources—even if he’d misused them in this instance.
The exchange of stories had distracted me, but I now found myself straining to hear any sound of pursuit. But I could hear nothing beyond the sound of our own progress through the forest. We just needed to get far enough away before the new shift arrived at dawn for the change of guards. I checked the sky for any signs of lightening, but everything looked black outside the windows.
Giselle was the first to fall asleep, tipping slowly sideways until she rested on the shoulder of her brother beside her. When Emmeline began to nod off, I resigned myself to the same fate. And, sure enough, I soon had the weight of her head pressing against me. I remained upright, too alert to sleep, as did Oliver across from me. We refrained from talking in deference to the sleepers, but the prince watched me, off and on, as the night stretched out.
I tried to read the messages in his eyes, but his contradictions foiled me. I could have sworn he regarded me as curiously as I regarded him. But he had never shown much interest in me before. And I kept remembering the disregard he’d shown for the fate of his own people, left bound on the cold road. And even his lack of interest in the crimes of Lord Treestone—against his own sisters, too. Was I fooling myself to imagine that something had changed in this cold prince?
A whisper of warmth stirred inside me and crept down my arms to warm my fingertips. And was it even greater foolishness to think that the change could have had anything to do with me?
The puzzle of Prince Oliver occupied my mind until we reached the royal palace of Eldon. And then I could think of nothing else.
Chapter 6
I’d seen plenty of royal palaces before—I had grown up in one, after all. But I had never seen anything like this one. At first glance it seemed to be made entirely of towers, rising in sleek shards of differing heights. It nestled against gray rock at the base of a mountain, crafted from a sleek marble that shone almost blue-green in the rising sun. I had never seen that exact color of rock before, and for a heart-stopping moment, I wondered if the entire building was carved from ice.
“Welcome to Eldon,” said Oliver, his voice a quiet rumble.
I looked across to find his eyes fixed on me. I snapped my mouth shut.
“It’s incredible.”
His smile looked a little twisted as he turned his head to regard his home. “One of a kind—or so they say.”
“Well, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Emmeline stirred and pulled herself upright, mumbling sleepily, and I immediately scooted over to peer out the window. Where was the city? I had expected to reach the capital before I saw the palace. But I could see no city wall, other than the wall of the palace itself, crafted from the same stone as the building. Something on the mountain behind the palace sparked, reflecting a ray of sunlight. I blinked and then blinked again.
Instead of spreading out around the palace, like in other capitals, the buildings all sheltered behind it, climbing up the face of the mountain. As I looked closer I made out steep roads, and in some places even steps, carving various paths up the slope.
Oliver was still watching me. “It’s a bigger city than it looks. Most of what you can see are the fronts of buildings, with the bulk of the rooms carved back into the mountain.”
I shook my head and repeated myself. “It’s incredible.”
A slow smile spread across his face, and for the first time his expression looked truly warm. “I’m glad you like it.”
The coachman slowed as we approached the gate but didn’t actually come to a stop. To my surprise, the gate was open with a small trickle of early morning activity. I had expected the palace to be on lock down after the attack on our party. Instead we were waved through without the coachman even needing to identify his passengers.
I glanced at Oliver, my brows lowered, and caught a look of faint concern on his face. Emmeline and Giselle, on the other hand, showed no response to the manner of our arrival. Both were still waking up and had begun to murmur about hot baths.
I examined the stone as we passed through the palace walls. The impression of ice hardly abated with closer inspection—it was truly an incredible material. The courtyard was one of the largest I had ever seen. I supposed any carriages or wagons which couldn’t make it up the steep mountain roads would have to be unloaded here, their burdens transferred into smaller loads.
Oliver jumped out first, turning to offer each of us a hand. I ignored his offered help, jumping down on my own and turning to take it all in. A small stir rippled out around us among the various grooms, guards, and palace messengers who were outside at this early hour. But the response was nothing to the commotion I would have normally anticipated. Except I was fast learning to expect nothing normal in this strange kingdom.
The other three had already begun to mount the steps to the front doors, so I hurried after them. The grand entrance had been carved with a series of intricate scenes, but the doors were swinging open before I had time to take any of them in. The servants in the entrance hall paused to bow and curtsy but seemed otherwise unaffected by our sudden arrival.
I did notice one scurry off up a broad staircase carpeted in deep red velvet. And, sure enough, a small flood of newcomers soon began to fill the large space. By far the loudest of these new arrivals were my own people. The guards looked grim but relieved, and two of my maids even had tears on their cheeks as they exclaimed and swirled around me.
I could barely make my own questions about their safety heard and ended up doing a head count just to reassure myself they were all there. Thankfully my maids and guards were all accounted for, including the two who had accompanied the initial group and been left bound on the road. One of the maids heard me over the hubbub and assured me that the second party with the baggage had found them before anyone suffered any serious harm.
A quick conversation with the captain of the guard reassured him of my safety, and he promised to obey my directive to send a new message hard on the heels of his previous one to let my family know I was unharmed and safely arrived at the palace. He apologized for failing to protect me on the road, and for failing to find me subsequently, but I brushed his words aside.
He shifted uneasily, though, clearly unwilling to let it drop.
“I must confess to grave concerns, Your Highness,” he said, dropping his voice low, and glancing at the Eldonians around us. “I’m no longer confident I can assure your safety here. The attack and your disappearance did not—”
I cut him off, my voice equally low.
“Let me guess, no one seemed sufficiently concerned about our abduction, and your attempts to organize some sort of search and rescue attempt met with little enthusiasm?”
His lips flattened into a grim line, and he gave a reluctant nod.
I shrugged. “I understand your concerns, Captain, but I came here to find out what is wrong with this kingdom, and I don’t intend to turn tail now. I’ll write a full accounting of the situation to my family at the earliest opportunity absolving you of all responsibility if anything further should occur.”
He grimaced but made no further protest. With no other Lanoverian royal to turn to, he couldn’t gainsay my orders.
My maids informed me that I had been assigned a large suite and that my luggage had already been delivered to it. They were clearly determined to carry me off immediately for a hot bath and some sleep, and my own enthusiasm for that plan was strong. But first I wanted to speak to Oliver.
When I turned to find him, however, I saw that King Leopold and Queen Camille had arrived. I had seen them from afar at the royal wedding in Palinar, but we hadn’t been formally introduced. They smiled and embraced their children, but I read no undue anxiety or relief on their faces. When Oliver looked up and caught my eye, he broke away from the others to gesture me over. When I stepped close enough, he introduced me.
“Mother, Father, this is Princess Celine of Lanover.”
I gritted my teeth and thrust the state of my dress and my overall appearance firmly from my mind as I gave a curtsy, hitting the exact depth required from a younger princess to a reigning monarch. I was used to looking my best on such occasions, but I would salvage what I could from the situation.
When I rose back up, I found them both smiling somewhat vacantly at me.
“Welcome Princess Celine,” said King Leopold. “We are honored by your visit.”
“And sorry for the unpleasantness around your arrival.” Queen Camille’s soft words carried no depth of emotion.
“But I see it has all worked out in the end,” said the king, “as I felt sure it would.”
Emmeline nodded and declared her intention to retire, Giselle trailing behind her. I waited for the king or queen to go on, but silence fell. Should I speak in defense of Lord Treestone? I looked over at Oliver for some sort of clue. Nothing had been said of their intentions from here. King Leopold followed the direction of my gaze.
“My son has informed me of the circumstances, and I am glad that no one was harmed. Clearly no true ill-will was meant.” He nodded his head once and clapped his son on the back. “Tonight we shall have a banquet to welcome our new guest.” He gave a half-bow in my direction, while I just blinked at him stupidly.
Surely that couldn’t be it? I looked at Oliver again, and he gave me a slight shrug, his eyes clouded. I bit my lip. I hadn’t wanted any great harm to befall Lord Treestone or his people, and had even considered speaking in their defense, so I could hardly complain now…
Still, this went beyond even what I had expected.
My maids swarmed me, and I could no longer resist following them in the direction of a bath and fresh clothing. And the sight of the large and comfortable bed in my beautiful room drove other thoughts from my mind. As soon as I was clean, I sank into the soft mattress and let the icy blue velvet of the room and the warm, flickering fire fade from view as I sank into unconsciousness.
I woke in the afternoon to a quiet room. The fire still burned, driving back the cold that had plagued me in this kingdom so far, and I spent an enjoyable half hour looking through my gowns which had already been unpacked into an expansive wardrobe. After my dismal appearance that morning—I had unfortunately caught sight of myself in a mirror before my bath—I wanted to take extra care on my presentation for the evening banquet.
I ran my hand along the various materials and sighed with pleasure. I didn’t love gowns or materials with quite the passion of my sister-in-law Evie—a talented ex-seamstress—but I loved the effect they could produce. I had learned that from my unnaturally beautiful sister Celeste—the master spy. Looks were simply another tool in the arsenal of a princess. And if wielded well, they could be effective indeed. As a royal, the way you dressed sent a message—and I had always loved making a strong impression.
I grinned to myself as I remembered the fights I used to have with my mother over some of my more daring ensembles. She had never understood the burden of being the youngest. The Lanoverian princesses were famed for their beauty, but I had to work to make mine stand out among so many sisters. At least once I hit eighteen she stopped trying to interfere in my clothing choices.
In the end, I settled on a deep-red, long-sleeved evening gown that exposed my shoulders and tapered down into a point part way down my back. Daring, but not too daring. And the rich color showed off my golden skin and dark hair and eyes. I laid it out on the bed so my maids would know what I had chosen. I could trust them to choose accessories to match.
I smiled. I was sure to stand out among all these pasty-skinned, pale northerners. Unbidden, the warm blue of Oliver’s eyes flashed through my mind. How would he react to my appearance? We would be a striking couple standing side-by-side—his fair hair the perfect foil to my dark looks.
But thought of the prince drove my mind into more serious topics. I still needed to find the chance to talk to him privately. I had questions that wouldn’t wait.
I slipped into a simpler gown that I could fasten without assistance and crossed to the door. Pausing, I reminded myself that unlike in Lord Treestone’s castle, I wasn’t a prisoner here. There was no reason for me to feel guilty about going exploring.
The corridors didn’t have the same cozy warmth as my room, but they were still warmer than they had any right to be based on the appearance of the palace. I wandered through what turned out to be something of a labyrinth, full of staircases and long, echoing corridors. The furniture I saw was all dark wood, with simple elegant lines, and the occasional touch of velvet kept the overall impression from one of icy inaccessibility. To my surprise, I found that I liked it. It took the best of this icy climate and made it beautiful and somehow welcoming.
As I explored, I lost track a little of my original goal. After so many hours on a ship, carriage, or locked in a room, I was enjoying the sense of freedom. And the décor fascinated me. It seemed far richer and deeper than the people themselves, none of whom had given me so much as a curious look.
A concentration of the blue velvet I had seen elsewhere made me pause, my attention drawn to an elegant alcove. It contained a large portrait of a young woman wearing a gown that appeared to match the velvet hung around her picture. Had she been the one originally responsible for the soft touch in the palace?
The style of her dress told me she had likely lived some time ago, and the crown on her brow suggested she must have had the authority to redecorate in her day. I examined her face for a long minute. The artist had done a good job with her expression, capturing a strange mix of sweetness and determination. Was it an accurate reflection of how she had looked in life?
But what made me even more curious than her face was the small pedestal resting in the alcove alongside the portrait. An empty glass dome stood on top of it, holding nothing but empty air. Clearly it had been designed to display something. But what? And why was it no longer there? It gave the whole alcove an unfinished look I hadn’t seen anywhere else in the palace.
A passing footman startled me from my reverie, my mind suddenly flashing to the time. How much had passed while I lost myself in the palace? I stopped him and asked for directions. His assumption that I wished to return to my rooms to dress for the banquet confirmed my fears about the late hour, so I didn’t demur. I would have to find a chance to talk to Oliver at the meal.
As I followed behind the well-dressed servant, I watched the other people we passed curiously, looking for any who showed signs of greater animation than the others. Only one man caught my eye.
His nondescript clothes made it hard to gue
ss his profession, but he had stepped back against the wall to clear our path. Some sort of servant, then. Unlike the others, however, he watched me with a gleam in his eyes I found hard to decipher. It sent a small shiver down my back even as I frowned, something tugging at my memory. It was almost as if the man were familiar. I was good with people and faces, but I couldn’t place this one. And I could think of no reason I would recognize an Eldonian palace servant. Unless he had accompanied his monarchs to the wedding?
We reached my suite shortly after, and I tucked the thought away for later examination. Most likely it meant nothing. But my spy-sister Celeste had taught me never to ignore my instincts. And that the smallest details sometimes turn out to be the most important.
Chapter 7
Back in my room, my attention was swept up into preparations for the upcoming welcome event. I had lost even more time than I realized, and my maids pounced on me as soon as I appeared. Before long, they had my hair elaborately arranged, and my gown and jewelry in place. I surveyed myself in my full-length mirror with a satisfied smile. I twisted to see the glowing skin of my upper bare back. If I wanted to make an impression—and I did—I was confident of my success. Again, a certain face dropped into my thoughts, but I pushed it away. Prince Oliver was an intriguing mystery, to be sure, but it was the Eldonian court as a whole that I wished to sweep off its feet.
When I entered the receiving hall where the dinner guests gathered, a herald announced my arrival. All talk hushed, and everyone turned to regard me. I paused, allowing everyone to look their fill, and then swept into the room. Heading straight for the king and queen, I dropped into the curtsy I would have liked to give that morning.
Everything went perfectly, and it should have been a triumphant moment. But the expressions around me hadn’t shifted much from their previous polite disinterest. The king and queen both smiled a distant welcome, and my gaze moved to the prince standing at his father’s side. He looked frozen, but not in the way he used to do when I first met him in Marin, and later Palinar. More like he had been immobilized by shock. And there was no mistaking the gleam of admiration in his eyes.
A Crown of Snow and Ice: A Retelling of The Snow Queen (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 3) Page 5
