Page 1 of Fractured
prologue
The Ice Queenhad guards she did not need to follow her every step. A few of her personal detail had been with her for over five decades now. She’d taken most to her bed as lovers one night or a few when she needed it, but she’d never before had toescapethem, trick them, get rid of them for a while, like she did this night.
It had excited her, the idea, the way flowers and books used to excite her before the prophecy. It excited her the way every first day of a month did, when suiters came to express their loyalty to her and their willingness to be tested.
None had ever come close to her standards, of course, but it had entertained her to watch countless noble men mold themselves into whichever shape they thought she would approve of.
Though nowadays she sometimes wondered if she’d just chosen.
Nowadays, she wondered if she’d have to do what she’d already done to herself the night before, if she’d chosen a king, and perhaps given birth to an heir.
Such anunroyalthing to not want children. She’d never admitted it to herself simply by claiming she would when she found the right partner, even if she knew that wasn’t true. It had always made her feel…less. Like she was committing an unforgivable sin by not wanting offspring.
And maybe with good reason.
Maybe things would have been different if she’d only accepted. If she’d only settled.
Maybe now, she, too, would have a son who almost reached her waist, though she was sure his hair would be white, not black. Maybe now, she, too, would have a son with wide eyes and small hands and tiny shoulders that were just waiting for the right time to triple in size, possibly within weeks—like those of the boy standing in front of her.
Or maybe, she’d have a daughter.
Wide teal eyes and long white hair and lips the color of pale winter roses.
She almost saw it—a younger, much softer version of her own self. A daughter who felt and thought andledthe way her people deserved.
If only the Ice Queen of the Frozen Court had settled.
But she hadn’t. And the boy in front of her now with messy black hair and wide, fearful eyes wasn’t hers, but hewasthe most important man in her life, nonetheless. He was the one who was going to end it all.
The fear, and the misery, and the wait.
Theweaknessthat had plagued the Ice Queen since the day she’d heard the prophecy.
No more.
“Tell me your name, boy.”
She knew the boy’s name well. He leaned back at thesound of her voice, but the fear in his eyes faded a bit, and it was replaced by what the queen was certain was curiosity.
She did so respect a curious mind, always had.
“Rune,” the boy said in a whisper, and it was the truth as the Ice Queen knew it.
“And I am Veyra.” She leaned down a bit, wanting to make him feel a little more comfortable. After all, she wasn’t here to hurt him—and she did feel bad for the boy.
No father. No mother.
He was all alone—just like her.
They were both alone now, too—she’d created the perfect illusion of herself for her guards, had shielded her body to perfection as she walked away from them, and it had been easy.
Here, in this corridor near the wing of the help in the Midnight Palace, she and the boy were truly alone.
“You…you called for me.”
The Ice Queen smiled. The boy looked at her lips stretching like he’d never before seen a more curious thing.
It pleased the queen greatly. “I did. You saw my bird,” she whispered and raised a fisted hand between them. When she opened her fingers, a small bird made out of white light glowed in the center of her palm.
