Page 42 of Frost Bound

He hadn’t asked a question, but he was probing her. Apparently, some habits were hard to break, and playing princess wouldn’t be easy.

Tell the truth. Mix it with a lie. The lie is the truth.

She brushed the crumbs from her lap. “In my culture, thin women are exulted above all else. You’ve met the queen. She has high standards.”Truth. “She expects that in her daughter as well.” She would let them draw their own conclusions from there.

Olwen crossed his thick, muscular arms across his wide chest and frowned. “What a stupid ideal. Everyvallesis different, and should be appreciated for her uniqueness, not punished for it.”

His sentiment warmed Dahlia. He still frightened her, but she softened toward Olwen. Just a bit. “My beliefs exactly.”

He smiled, flashing his fangs, and Lia swallowed, shoving down her fear, and returned his smile. The giant had shown her understanding. That wasn’t something she had expected.

A bundle of clothes was tossed roughly into her lap. “Get dressed. We’re already late.”

Arun’s deep, dark voice washed over her, and Dahlia just barely managed to hide her shudder. She clutched the parcel to her chest and stood, making sure to lay the blanket over the back of the seat with care.

She dipped her chin at Arun, not meeting his gaze. Not that it really mattered. She couldn’t tell where he was looking anyway. His eyes were completely black.

Lia hustled away from the fireplace, waving at Birdie, who was still folding laundry. The innkeeper’s wife returned the greeting and went back to her chores. The Frost King reached the bottom of the stairs and Dahlia curtsied.

He nodded to her and smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good morning, princess. I trust you slept well?”

“As well as I could, my lord.”

“Excellent.” He walked by her to the group, standing out in his black regalia, murmuring a low hello to his guards.

Lia watched them for a moment. Arun’s face turned in her direction and she fled up the stairs to ready herself for the soggy day.

Hopefully, the rain wouldn’t be so horrid.

Hope was a cruel mistress.

Despite the rough-spun, sturdy dress and heavy cloak she’d been given, the water eventually soaked through. The weather had only gotten worse throughout the day. At one point, Lia had lain on the top of her horse, Anwen, and held on for dear life. The wind howled as they passed one of the biggest lakes she’d ever laid her eyes on, tearing at her cloak. White-capped waves crashed onto the pink sands, leaving foam behind.

She ducked her face into Anwen’s mane to avoid the stinging pelt of the rain that seemed to be falling sideways. Her palms and fingers had stopped stinging hours ago. Dahlia didn’t know how long they’d been riding, but they’d eaten the noon meal hours ago. All she wanted was a fire and her bed.

You can do this. You’ve been through worse. Just sing. Focus on the song.

Her fingers knotted in Anwen’s mane and she began humming, her voice rumbling in her throat while the storm did its best to tear her from the horse.

The stars will keep you safe, little one,

There’s no need to fear the dark.

The storm shrieked above; she clutched Anwen harder, her cheek pressed to the mount’s mane.

Rise to the sky and take flight,

Embrace the night and soar.

A bellow.

Dahlia blinked slowly and lifted her head, squinting. Arun was thundering toward her, destruction written across his face.She yanked on the reins and stopped. He yelled and gestured, but she didn’t make out his words. He was too far away.

The giant leaned over his horse and urged it faster, Olwen and the king behind him. The hair at the nape of her neck rose as she heard a huff. She straightened in the saddle and twisted slowly.

Her stomach dropped as she spotted a creature she had hoped never to cross paths with.

A dimedon.

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