Page 71 of Frost Bound

Thenonnaetteran her fingers over her neck. “I was born near the border of Astera, between Kallere and Nieves. My parents gathered syrup for the cities. They used to tell me to sing to the trees and the syrup would be sweeter.” Her smile faded. “One day, Papa got sick. He told us he was fine and went to harvest. That night he stumbled home running a fever, a strange rash all over his body. By the morning, his breathing was labored and wet. Mama did everything she could for him, and three days later he died, but not before the dots showed up on her body.”

Loshika sucked in a shuddering breath. “She sent me away to my aunt’s home and died alone.” A pause. “My cousins got sick first. They blamed me, but I didn’t have the marks. People all over our village got sick and began dying. That’s when they found it.”

“Found what?” Lia whispered, dread in the pit of her stomach.

“The diseasedsaloes’ body in our well.”

Bile burned the back of Dahlia’s throat. “Was it the human from your village?”

“No.” Loshika’s mouth thinned, bitterness written across her face. “Humans were not allowed in our village. In fact, we’d been fighting with the human lord right over the border of Astera about who the trees belonged to. They sabotaged us, we sabotaged them. It was constant. But this … was something altogether different. This was a battle we could not fight.”

“Eventually, I got sick, but almost all of my village was gone.” Tears filled her black eyes. “Then thesaloescame. They tossed all the sick into the well and left us to die. There were threevallesand onevallos. I was the only child. I only survived because they managed to toss me up high enough to climb out.”

Tears tracked down Dahlia’s face.

“I promised to get help, but I was sick. I climbed into a neighbor’s home and managed to get a fire going. It’s one of the first things we’re taught—how to make a fire. I passed out and slept for some time.” Loshika’s voice thickened. “When I woke, my rash was fading. I ran to the well to tell them I was getting help, but they were already dead when I got there.” The tears spilled over. “I was all that was left. An entire village gone.”

“I’msosorry.” The words didn’t mean enough.

Loshika shrugged and wiped her tears away. “It was a long time ago. We cannot live in the past.”

Lia’s stomach churned, feeling sick. “How can you even look at me without disgust? Without hate?”

The giantess held her gaze. “Because I won’t villainize a whole race for the actions of a few. Myreillovhas chosen you as hisreilleve. In our short time together, you’ve shown me that all humans aren’t bad just because I experienced horrors at their hands.”

That struck Dahliahard.

Wasn’t that what she’d been doing for years? Judging a whole race based on one experience? Forgetting all of the good childhood memories of Loriian friends? Only focusing on the fear?

She swallowed hard. She needed to make some changes.

“You honor me with your story,” she replied. “I won’t forget the lesson you’ve taught me.”

Loshika nodded. “I’ve seen you try to mask your fear since you’ve been with us. I can imagine we look like monsters to you, but despite your fear, you’ve treated all of us with kindness. You’re just thereillevewe need.”

She was no queen. Dahlia was a bard masquerading as a princess. An imposter.

The door opened, letting in a burst of cold air. In stepped the king, his imposing presence filling up the space.

“Leave us.” His voice was like chips of ice.

Her blood went cold.

He knew.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Neve

Neve nodded to thenonnaettes,who bowed to him before filing out the door behind him. It closed with a soft click, leaving him and thevallesalone. Maybe for the first time ever. She slowly stood from the chair and faced him, her expression serene.

She dipped her chin and did a small curtsy before rising. “My lord.”

He watched as she seemed to focus on his chest, not looking up into his eyes. Perhaps his gaze unnerved her as much as Dahlia’s unnerved him.

Silence stretched awkwardly between them, and Neve found himself wanting to shift from foot to foot—something hispovvarhad trained out of him years ago.

Never let the enemy see you sweat.

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