Page 98 of Blood Beneath the Snow

I turned around. Frode was gone, on his way back to the royal family tent. Tentatively, I walked toward the fire, where a familiar silhouette sat on a fallen tree. “Arne?”

He turned and peered at me through the dim light. When he recognized me, his face paled. “Revna? What are you doing here?”

I didn’t answer, too busy taking in his new appearance. The boy I’d cared about was gone, replaced by a hardened soldier. He wore an oversized uniform and armor. The side of his throat sported a crawling tattoo wrapping around the back of his neck like long fingers.

He ran over and pulled me into an embrace. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I disentangled myself from his arms like they were weapons. No one had told him.Ihadn’t told him. “I turned down the proposal. I’m competing in the Bloodshed Trials.”

Utter silence.

Horror twisted Arne’s mouth. “What?” he whispered. “No, no,Revna. Why? I’d never want you to do that for me. Please marry the prince. You may not love him, but at least you will be alive and happy and”—he clutched my hand while I stared—“and don’t be an idiot. Don’t. Björn will laugh while he kills you in an instant. I can’t stand to lose you—not like this. Please.” His voice cracked.

An astonished laugh huffed out of me, my breath crystallizing in the air before falling away in the breeze. After all this time, after all we’d been through, after six years of friendship and two of something more, Arne still didn’t know me. He thought he motivated my every action.

I gently pulled my hand from his. “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. I did it for the godforsaken. For myself. Arne, I don’t know when you fell in love with me, but”—I swallowed, steeling myself to deliver the blow—“it wasn’t for you. I don’t feel the same. You’re one of my best friends. But I don’t think of you that way.”

He ran a hand through his hair, unease settling into his posture. The set of his jaw revealed his realization. “You’re not here for me.” He looked at our feet. “You didn’t reject him for me.”

I shook my head.

He grimaced. “I’m an idiot,” he muttered. “I should have known.”

I took a deep breath. “Arne, I’m sorry, but when you said you loved me…I couldn’t say it back. I didn’t mean to imply I loved you.”

“So because you don’t love me, you’re going to get yourself killed?” he snapped. “Is it because you love Freja?”

I was trying so desperately to be patient as I explained it all to him, but my annoyance began to seep through every word. “I love her as a sister but nothing more. And if I did love her, wouldn’t I be justified? She’s been there for me through everything.”

“So have I!” he bellowed, his face turning red.

I flinched and stepped backward, startled by his fury.

“Who was there when you broke your leg falling down the castle stairs when you were little?” Arne demanded. His voice was a harsh whisper now, like he’d realized yelling would wake the other soldiers. “Who came to you when you would cry yourself to sleep at night after your father beat you? Who encouraged you to marry the prince, to find the good in what you’d been given, only for you to reject it in favor of death?Who?”

“You,” I said quietly. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Iloveyou, Revna,” he said. “And you can’t do me the decency of loving me back.”

“Thedecency?” Gods, had he always been this frustrating? Or was it a symptom of being a soldier? “It isn’t my job to give myself to you, Arne. You knew from the beginning this would never last. I’ve always been engaged to marry the prince. You chose to love me despite knowing it was impossible for us to be together.”

“But it wasn’t impossible,” he retorted. “If it truly was never going to happen, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have refused the prince. Why did you change your mind?” He reached out, faster than I could have prepared for, and grabbed my chin, pulling my face close to his. “Is there someone else?”

I tried to pull out of his grasp, panic flooding me. Where was the gentle man I knew? Where was the boy I’d laughed with growing up, who lay in the grassy clearing with me and held me while I slept? “Let me go.”

“I asked you a question.”

“It doesn’t matter whether there’s someone else,” I exclaimed, wrenching my face from his hand. “I’m here to save my fucking people—here to saveeveryone, including you, who’s treated like trash by the godtouched. Is that not enough for you?”

He kicked at a dirty clump of snow, scowling. “No. It’s not enough. When will you look around and realize you’re not the onlyone trying to save the people they care about? I was saving you when I let you go. When I let them drag my ass out here and force a dull blade into my hands. When I killed my first godtouched. And you know what? Saving you made it all worth it.” Arne shook his head. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, which smarted with unshed tears. “Now I learn you took what I offered and threw it back in my face.”

“Don’t act like you’re somehow the only victim here,” I snarled, my own anger bubbling just below the surface, threatening to escape. “I’m under no obligation to accept your shittyoffering.”

“My love is worth so little to you?”

“Stop it, Arne. I tried to love you. But we kept each other at arm’s length for too long and missed our chance. I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’m here to save our people.” At this, I took a step closer to him, forcing his eyes—hardened now, not soft and searching like they’d once been—to meet mine. “And anyone who gets in my way will see the sharp end of my sword. Including you.”

Silence stretched out between us, taut as a bowstring ready to release. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Pick a tent and hope the occupants don’t hate you. It’s the best part of being godforsaken out here.”

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