Page 29 of Fated to the Frost King

It was just one more drop of madness in an ocean of insanity.

No one dared to move or speak, let alone speak out in the courtier’s defense. Even the emissary was unnaturally still. King Draven raised his glass to drink as if nothing had happened.

Slowly, the frost began to withdraw. The courtier wouldn’t become another statue to shatter across the Winter King’s floor, but the damage was done, all the same.

His skin remained cracked with frostbite, his breath shallow, face paler than death, but he would live. Because I had asked the king to stop? Or would that have always been the extent of the punishment?

The room remained frozen until the servants returned to the dining hall with silver trays laden with the first course for tonight’s meal.

Whatever appetite I’d had before completely disappeared after that raw display of power.

I sat rigid in my chair, doing my best not to clench my fists too tightly around my shivering stowaway. The skathryn was trembling. She hadn’t seen the king use his mana, but I had no doubt she felt it.

This time it was the Autumn emissary who braved the silence first, all lazy grace and calculated charm.

“Queen Everly, I realize I have failed to introduce myself properly. My name is Soren Redthorne, emissary to the Autumn Crown, but please, call me Soren.”

The king didn’t outwardly react, but his mana pulled taut.

I gave him a nod that was equal parts grace and gratitude. “I’m pleased to make your official acquaintance.”

The silence at my opposite side was abruptly potent, curling around my spine like a leash. I pretended not to notice, and Lord Redthorne—Soren, joined me in our feigned ignorance.

There was no way a male as cunning as he was had actually failed to notice the tension seeping from the head of the table like poison, but he nodded easily in return, taking a sip from his goblet.

“I haven’t noticed you on the palace grounds much, but I’m sure your duties have kept you quite busy.” It was more than idle chatter, it was a direct retort to the speculations about where I had been.

I finally gave him the smile he had more than earned. “Indeed, they have.”

“Well.” He casually swirled the wine in his glass. “If that should change in the coming days, I would be more than happy to serve as a guide.The palacecan be...unforgiving to those of us still learning its moods. But the gardens alone are worth the frostbite.”

He stressed the wordsthe palace. Was he referring to the court, the semi-sentient structure itself, or was he bold enough to be referring to the tempestuous brute at my side? The same one who had just nearly taken a male’s life for the sin of second-hand insulting him.

My lips parted, then closed again. The emissary was more than brave, he had a death wish.

Apparently, he had finally pushed the king too far. “Unfortunately, Lord Redthorne, my wife will have to decline your generous offer, as her duties will continue to keep her occupied for the foreseeable future.”

I would have happily informed the king what I thought of him speaking on my behalf, if I could think at all past the wordsmy wifeechoing in my head.

It was technically accurate, but it still thrummed through me like an unexpected chord in a symphony I should have known by heart.

Rather than look offended, Soren smiled like a mischievous child who had just successfully pilfered a cookie.

“Indeed.” He straightened in his chair. “Well, the offer stands.”

I spoke before the king could do it for me again. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,whenmy schedule clears.”

Just because my entire existence hinged on the king’s whims didn’t mean I would spend what was left of it being cowed by him.

I felt the frost-twat in question stiffen at my side. Soren gave another gracious nod like he didn’t notice, and conversation blessedly picked up again. The courtiers were noticeably more respectful of me now, something I tried to be grateful for instead of despising their shallow, two-faced natures.

Between the tedium of conversation and the glowering presence next to me, I was more than ready to go back to my rooms, prison or not.

The walk back to our wing was heavy with a silence so thick, it was beginning to suffocate. Even the wolves padded on eerily quiet steps, trailing several feet behind us. I had too many thoughts, too many questions, and no good answers.

And still… my eyes kept drifting to him.

My husband.

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