Page 13 of Frost Bound

“I believe I have, Your Highness. Has Basil apprised you of the situation?”

“He has,” the king replied. “Bring her to us. I’d like to get a good look at the creature.”

The Giver’s boots entered Dahlia’s vision. “Time to shine, my flower.”

He took her trembling hand, and she stood, still keeping her gaze on the ground, loose hair falling along her cheeks. Adder guided Lia forward until she could just make out the edge of a rose-colored gown shot through with gold to her right, and shiny black boots with sparkly gold buckles to her left.

“She’s well trained, I’ll give you that much,” the queen commented begrudgingly. “The mousy little thing hasn’t lifted her gaze from the floor since she entered the room.”

“Only the best for my lady stepmother.”

“Not on your life, mongrel.”

“Enough!” the king’s voice cut, sharp as a knife. Dahlia flinched, and the Giver’s fingers tightened painfully around hers for a moment. A warning. “I can barely hear my own thoughts listening to you two bicker. Let me get a proper look at this girl.” A pause. “You may rise.”

The Giver squeezed her hand again, this time much more gently. Lia gritted her teeth and forced herself not to yank her hand from his. The situation was precarious as it was. Slowly, she straightened, eyes lifting to take in Astera’s monarchs. Her first impression was that the queen was stunning in a cruel,sharp sort of way, while the king was a pompous windbag. The monarchs looked like two primped peacocks. Lia took in the finery of their outfits and had to swallow her disgust. Their jewelry alone could feed the city for years.

The king scooted forward in his seat, scrutinizing her. His dark gaze flicked to Adder. “It’s a fair likeness, I’ll give you that. Almost uncanny.” The way he smiled was a mirror of the Giver’s. Godsteeth, it was eerie. “The hair alone…” He brushed his hand over his thin mouth as if in thought. “You’ve done well, my son.”

Adder seemed to stand a little taller. Just what had he done well at? Why was she here?

“Not so fast, my dear,” the queen interjected. She pushed a black curl from her shoulder and lifted her chin, her honeyed eyes gleaming as she stared down at Dahlia. A shiver snaked down Lia’s spine at the malice and knowing that glinted in the queen’s gaze. “We have yet to see the markings.”

Lia blanched, and she tugged her hand from the Giver’s. She bit her bottom lip as it trembled. How did they know about her legs? She stared hard at Adder until he met her gaze.

“Show them,” Adder commanded softly with a nod toward her skirts.

Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of showing them her greatest shame, but there was no other option. Lia wouldn’t even make it out of the room if she bolted. There was a much bigger game afoot, and she was just a pawn.

With shaking hands and heated cheeks, she grabbed handfuls of her rough-spun skirt and lifted it inch by inch. She forced herself not to curl in on herself as she exposed her legs to their scrutiny.

The king whistled, drawing her attention. His lip was curled in disgust that made her feel only a foot tall. “Blood and bones, it’s enough to turn your stomach. Hideous.”

Heat pressed at the back of her eyes, but she blinked it away. It was just skin. A condition she’d been born with. Not a disease. Then why did their words hurt so much?

Others have said worse. Don’t crumble. Just survive.

“We’ve seen enough,” the queen said. Lia quickly dropped her skirt. “What is your name?”

“Dahlia, Your Highness,” Lia replied, looking to the royal who watched Dahlia like she was a succulent fruit.

“No family name?”

“Only self-proclaimed. My mother was from one of the traveling bard clans, so it’s Skysinger.”

“I see.” The queen smiled, but it seemed almost mocking. “So floral. How plebian. And yet fortuitous. I was once enamored with flowers myself. Well, dear Dahlia, I have a proposition for you. It seems your brother is in a bit of trouble with the crown.”

So the Giver hadn’t kept his word. She swallowed down her bitter words and kept her focus on the queen. An outburst would do no one any good.

“He’s a good boy,” Dahlia said softly. “Made the wrong friends.”

“I’m sure he is, but the law is the law,” the queen crooned. “You know stealing has never been tolerated in Astera. It’s a serious crime. Your brother’s life is in the balance.”

Lia’s stomach dropped to her feet. “His life?”

“Indeed. While execution is too harsh, serving a few years in the Asterium fields is well within the rights of sentencing.”

No.To serve as a harvester in the hallucinogen fields was a death sentence. The pollen of the flowers burned the lungs, eyes, and skin. Most of the workers went blind first, then numb, and eventually drowned in their own blood. It was a gruesome, painful death for the rare jewel-like dye. With her brother’s health in the state it was, he wouldn’t make it more than a fortnight.

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