Page 30 of Blood Beneath the Snow

Halvar shrugged, twisting the cigar in his hands. “You would know better than I would. How did Frode seem to take it when you asked him?”

My thoughts drifted back to the evening before and I rubbed my wrists. The burns there had healed, but it would take another day or so for the fresh scarring to fade with the rest. Father had been furious when I returned from the prison, not hesitating to take his punishment out on me the moment Volkan had returned to his rooms. I hadn’t had the chance to catch Frode alone before we were all assembled at dinner.

Frode, seated on my right side, had given me a strange look. I knew my thoughts were chaotic. I’d glanced at him, wondering how much to reveal about our plan in that moment, then decided to make things simple.

Can you meet me at Halvar’s tomorrow morning at dawn?

He’d replied with a raised eyebrow and a nod. The rest of dinner had continued without a hitch.

“Frode will be here,” I told Halvar. “I’m hoping Volkan hasn’t backed out.”

“He seemed the most motivated between the three of us, if we’re being honest,” Halvar said with a chuckle. “That boyreallydoes not want to marry you.”

I smacked him on the shoulder, then burst into laughter. “I wonder if he has someone waiting for him back home.”

The trapdoor squeaked on its hinges and another person descended into the space as Halvar griped about oiling the metal partsof the hatch again. When Frode stepped into the light, followed closely by Volkan, my shoulders sank with relief.

“Who’s going to tell me what’s happening here?” Frode asked without preamble. He sauntered through the room, hands in his pockets, observing the weaponry stacked carefully on all sides. He glanced at Halvar curiously. “Is this an assassination attempt?”

“What?” I asked as Halvar sputtered. “Why would I have asked you here to assassinate you?”

Frode shrugged and gestured to the weapons. “You’ve been incredibly vague about this, even in your thoughts, so I made an assumption based on all of these swords and knives.”

Volkan snorted and took a seat across from me on the other bench. “You seem to be the only decent member of your family besides Revna. I’d hate to kill you.”

“If you think I wouldn’t at least try to eliminate Björn first, then you clearly don’t know me as well as you thought you did,” I added.

Frode was examining the knife selection Halvar had displayed on the wall. My brother’s own long, curved knives were sheathed at either hip. “Excellent. Well, since we’ve established that no one is being murdered today, give me one moment.” Frode walked back to the ladder, clambering to the top and knocking three times on the hatch. The rest of us frowned.

Then the trapdoor opened again and Jac hopped down, boots sending a cloud of dust into the air from where they hit the ground.

Halvar stood. “Why is he here?”

Jac adjusted his cloak, pulling down the hood and moving to sit next to a surprised Volkan. “Because I followed a very suspicious-looking Frode.”

I glared at Frode, who shrugged. “I’ve never been good at secrecy; you know that. He demanded to know where I was going, so I told him.”

With a heavy sigh, I pressed two fingers to the bridge of my nose.Having Jac here complicated things. Frode could be trusted, but Jac—quiet, soft-spoken Jac—was far more of an enigma.

Frode put a hand on my shoulder. “Jac is trustworthy. Whatever you’re planning, he’ll keep your secrets from Father.”

I took a steadying breath. “Well, then…how do the two of you feel about having a godforsaken queen?”

Most girls would swoon overthe thought of attending their own engagement party. Instead, I stared at the wooden doors leading to the ballroom, dread and anxiety creating a noxious mix in my stomach.

My dress swept across the floor, silk the color of emeralds winding around my arms. It hugged my torso, flattering my curves, and fell straight along my sides to brush against my ankles. My dark hair was pulled into braids, loose curls from the long ends of the braids falling around my shoulders.

I never had reason to look this nice, and on the one night I did, I couldn’t enjoy it. I huffed at the inconvenience.

I chewed my red-painted lips and ignored the curious glances of the servants posted at each door. I’d arrived late on purpose, worried my anxiety about the plan Volkan and I had concocted would be utterly obvious on my face. Would Father sense it the instant I walked through the doors? Or would I be able to hide the deception beneath my made-over appearance?

Music drifted through the hall and I took a shuddering inhale. Was walking toward your engagement supposed to feel like walking toward inevitable death?

One of the doormen raised an eyebrow at me and reached for the door handle, but I held up a hand to stop him.

“Not yet,” I said. Someone tapped on my shoulder, pulling meback to the present, and I turned to see Jac standing just behind me. I was so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t heard him approach.

He looked impassive as ever, but the red of his formal military uniform added another level of stoicism to him.

---