Page 2 of A Bond of Ice and Glass
“You spoke many things in your delirium, Princess, but try not to worry. The fever broke last night and you should be feeling a lot better soon.” She smooths her hands down the front of her black dress. “I’ll leave you to rest.”
She gives a quick curtsy and then shuffles out of the room. I watch the heavy wooden door close behind her. The silence that follows in her wake does nothing to settle my unease. I glance around the room, hoping to make sense of my surroundings, but everything is foreign to me.
The chamber is sparse yet elegant. Dark stone walls are dressed with faded tapestries, and a carved hearth crackles softly against the far wall. The four-poster bed I’m lying in dominates the space, its royal blue sheets tucked beneath a canopy of draped gold curtains. Even the dark wood furniture bears delicate gold inlays, as if trying to mask the cold with opulence.
A knock on the door startles me. Could this be one of the others the witch spoke of? My pulse soars and I wet my lips, getting ready to speak, but the handle turns and the doors open before I can.
Another woman enters the room. As she steps into the light streaming through the bay window, all I can think about is that she looks exactly how I imagined a witch to look like. Her long black hair hangs over a shoulder in one thick, complicated braid. Black leather boots poke out from her black dress as she makes her way over to the bed, the heels scraping against the light wooden floorboards. She’s completely dressed in black, with thin rose gold chains wrapped around her wrists that match the colour of my hair. The chains are twisted tightly around her tawny skin, and they go up her arms to her biceps. A fashion choice for witches, I assume.
Strange gold markings paint her face, decorating her features in a way that makes her dark eyes stand out. I can’t quite place the runes, but there’s something familiar about them. They twist around her cheeks and down her chin, all the way to the bottom of her neck. They glow softly in the light, pulsing with magic. I don’t stare for too long at them before meeting her eyes, which are the darkest black, only made to look brighter by her long goldeyelashes and her high cheekbones. A thin gold line is drawn across her eyelids. The woman is beautiful but equally terrifying at the same time. Two sharp canines flash from under full pink lips when she smiles at me.
“Good. You didn’t die.” The woman stops beside the bed and pulls something out from her dress pocket. It’s covered in a white napkin. “You must’ve swallowed a gallon of that old toad’s potions. I brought some cake to wash it down.” She sets the wrapped delicacy down on the bedside table, next to the vase of roses. “Figured it might help get rid of the taste.”
“Thanks…” I watch her lean against the bedpost. “Who are you?”
She tilts her head at me, her cat-like eyes taking me in. “You won’t die, that’s all that matters, but forget the man if you know what’s good for you.” She turns to the healer and waves a dismissive hand at her. “Get the fuck out.”
The healer flashes me a compassionate smile before rushing out of the room. The door slams in her wake, and for a moment the woman standing in front of me just looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“Who are you?” I ask again.
She doesn’t answer at first, her eyes still assessing me while she taps her gold-painted nails against the post. “A friend to some deserving souls. Enemy to most. But you… I reckon we could be friends if you play your cards right.” A gold tendril seeps out from her fingertips and curls around the bedpost. “You’ve already guessed correctly that I’m a witch.”
I nod, pursing my lips for a moment. “You look like one. Well, what I thought a witch might look like. The markings.”
She huffs a laugh and gestures to her face with her other hand. “Yeah, magic in your veins tends to do this sometimes. The more magic you use, the more appear.”
“They’re beautiful.”
The witch snorts at that. “You know, I’m already warming up to you, Princess.”
“Maelena,” I say, wincing. “I’ve always hated being called that. Princess.”
“Mmm, well, they say you’re the princess who’s going to save our asses. The whole kingdom, in fact.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re going to make alliances, fix everything with what’s between your legs and a pretty smile. So they say. Awfully kind of them, isn’t it?”
I narrow my eyes, my entire body tensing at her words.
“I’d rather fucking die.”
She laughs at that. Actually bursts into laughter, and I’m tempted to smile at her. It’s clear by her tone that she doesn’t approve of what’s being said about me, and that makes me like her. Her laugh tapers off into a sigh.
“Damn it. I really wanted to hate you, but you’re already proving to be less of a spoiled breeding mare than I was expecting… My name’s Nymala, and you better tell me what you remember, Your Majesty.”
Your Majesty? As in—queen? But I never married. I never became queen…
“First of all, please don’t call me that… And I was running away with my friend. We were hiding in the back of a cart, and then there was a dragon in the sky… That’s all I remember.” But there was more, wasn’t there? My stomach hurts the longer I think about it, my temples throbbing, and the room spins. Nymala just watches me as I briefly close my eyes against the wave of dizziness. Once it passes, I try again, wanting to know for myself what happened. “The dragon landed, and then I… we tried to… something happened. I don’t know what.”
The door opens as I struggle to grab the memory. Why can’t I seem to catch it? Why can’t I remember?
“The king took you,” a voice I know gently offers.
Lochlan stands in the doorway, and my shoulders instantly drop in relief. His dark eyes show me nothing but the same relief when he finds me awake. Lochlan, the boy who looked after me and healed me time and time again after all those horrific beatings. Lochan, my best friend, who promised to help me escape and build a new life together. I stare at him, and even though it’s only been a short while since the cart, he looks so different now. His light brown hair is longer, brushed back, and his brown eyes are not as soft as I remember. They’re nearly black. Were they always like that?
When Loch smiles, his cheeks dimple in the way Iamfamiliar with. And all my worries seem to fade away. This is the Loch I know. The one person who’s always been there for me. He risked everything to get me out of the convent.
I return the smile and lift my hand weakly to wave at him. I know Lochlan too well to be scared anymore, but there’s still that part of me that feels unsettled inside, as if this reality isn’t real. There are too many missing fragments. I remind myself, again, that this isLochan, and that he’s safe. I’m safe. Right?
I hold my hand out to him. He doesn’t hesitate. He strides over and takes my hand in his gloved one, sitting on the edge of the bed. The minute his hand touches mine and he presses his lips against my knuckles, it feels strange. Wrong, somehow. A chill runs down my spine despite my body still being flushed from the fever. I pull my hand out of his, leaving him hanging in the air for a moment before he touches my forehead.
