Page 9 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
“When I have the upper hand,” she said.
Her father roared. “Well done, little dove,” he said, coming over to pat her back.
Cole climbed to his feet, scowling. “That’s not fair,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Which is why you lost,” said Eirwen.
“This was a dumb idea. It’s stupid to fight against a girl. They’re not strong enough so they have to employ crafty tricks.”
“What’s your point, lad?” said Olwen, stroking his beard sagely. “Wouldn’t you like to learn those crafty tricks too?”
Cole pouted. “Yes,” he said, “but not fromher.”
Olwen laughed again. “Very well. Eirwen, you’re dismissed.”
“But–”
“We’ll talk later, dove. Be on your way now.”
Eirwen threw down her sword and huffed back into the castle. Her foul mood remained all through the evening, amplifying when Cole smirked at her at the dinner table, his bandaged hands telling a tale of a long day of training withherfather.
Olwen came to see her before she went to bed.
“Why did you do that?” she stomped.
The king lowered himself to her side, and sighed when she jerked away from him. “The boy was embarrassed. I felt bad for him.”
“Heshouldbe embarrassed.”
“He wanted to be better.”
“I could have taught him that.”
“You could, maybe. If he was willing. But he wouldn’t have been. He’d have been unhappy. I want him to be at home here. And… the boy didn’t have much of a relationship with his father, and... I felt bad for him.”
“I never knew my mother,” Eirwen stropped, “I’m not mean to people because of it.”
“That is because you have a kind heart, Eirwen, and not everyone is so blessed. People feel things differently, act differently because of it. People with kind hearts need to show them another way.”
“Kind hearts don’t sound very useful,” said Eirwen, burying herself in her pillow. “It sounds like kind hearts were meant to be broken.”
“They are a little easier to hurt, perhaps. But I still think it’s better to feel.”
“I don’t want a kind heart.”
“Then wrap it in steel,” he said, stroking her back. “But only to keep it safe.”
∞∞∞
Eirwen tried to be nice to Cole. She let him have his private lessons with her father, let the two of them go on private hunting trips, walk together about the grounds. It wasn’t like Olwen never made time for her. He still asked over her lessons daily. He still oversaw her training. He still sat with her, late into the evenings, telling her old stories as he stroked her head. It changed nothing between the two of them.
But nothing between her and Cole really changed either, and Queen Bianca remained distant and aloof, descending on Eirwen only when a ball was arranged and she wanted the opportunity to dress her up.
Eirwen could not get a read on Bianca. She didn’t understand her. She had always been quitegoodwith people. Most, she knew, were good at heart. If they were bad, it was because they were upset, or in pain, or angry, or had something going on beneath the surface. Only a precious few were truly black-hearted, and thankfully Eirwen didn’t have much experience with them.
Bianca was different. Eirwen had seen her go from praising the cook to snapping at the serving staff in the same breath, like a dark cloud had swept away her kindness. She’d see her yelling at the maids and then crooning over Cole. Two different people, neither quite who she was. There was something false in her voice, something brittle and strange, like a clockwork doll in need of winding. Shehadto be human, but sometimes Eirwen wondered if she was composed of cogs and gears.
She could not tell her father. That would be rude, insulting his new bride. And she didn’t want him to think she was upset. But she asked Niamh about her once or twice.
