Page 44 of Frost Like Night
The Rania Plains. Sir standing over me in the meeting tent, his disappointment a palpable tang on the air. He holds the locket box in his hands.
“I never should have trusted you with that mission. Because of you, Angra found our camp. Because of you, we had to resort to an alliance with Cordell, and it is that alliance that led them to overtake our kingdom.” He sighs. “I always knew you were a failure.”
NO!I scream at Sir before the image vanishes, and that scream warps into a frantic plea to Rares.No, stop!
I can’t breathe. Sir’s image hangs all too real in my head, unraveling me as I roll to my feet. Oana closes in, but I can’t draw a breath to fuel myself on, choking underthe words I’ve feared for so long.
Block me!Rares shouts.
I launch at Oana. The training ring is a swamp by now, the deluge continuing to flood the area, so when I reach her, I slide to a stop by falling onto my backside. I catch her legs and she goes down too, mud splashing when she drops.
“I always knew you were a failure.”
But it’s just me. It isn’t Sir saying that—Sir has never said that. I’m the one who says it, who keeps that phrase pressed to my heart even as it undoes every seam in my body.
I’m keeping myself restrained. It’s only ever beenme. And I know that—I’ve known that I’m the one to blame for months. But something about recognizing it now fills me with clarity.
If I’m the only one to blame, nothing else has power over me. Not memories of Sir; not memories of Hannah; not memories of anyone. It’s all part of me—mistakes and horror and regrets, but also beauty and peace and love. Like the memory of sitting at the fire with Crystalla and Sir—that was glorious and calm. I can’t pick or choose which to keep and which to ignore—it’s all of them or none of them, and Iwill notgive up my happiness.
I wobble to my feet, legs trembling, arms aching, face stinging with rain and gashes from the ice shards. Oana looks up at me, her smile no less dim though she remains in a helpless, defenseless position. But this isn’t truly a fight—shewantsme to win.
One last chance,Rares’s voice comes again.This next memory will not be so pleasant.
No, it won’t be. It will probably be crippling, dredging up every last one of my insecurities.
But I don’t care. It’s all a part of me, every horrific, squirming shadow—it’s allme, and I will not hide from it anymore.I do not deserve to be crippled by it; I do not deserve to harbor this guilt, because yes, I messed up, but I learned from every mistake.
That was how I blocked Hannah. I outgrew her, because I am all of this. I am mistakes and victories and death and life. I am competent and powerful andstrong, and whatever this war brings my way—even death—I will face it like the queen I am.
I shout at Rares.I DON’T CARE.
My magic beats with each breath, but I don’t fear losing control. Iammy magic, and it is me, and it will obey me as much as snow and ice.
I flick my wrist and a blade snaps into my hand from the storage bin, glinting as rain bounces off it. Oana’s serenity drops into an amused glower and she rises to her feet.
When I fling my body at Oana, sword slashing, I let my body move, years of Sir’s training rising from my memory; I let my magic flow, years of stifling it broken.
Oana pulls down small crackling bolts that dance between us as I stab at her, forcing her back. I’m too close to her foranother large lightning strike, unless she wants to be fried herself. As I dance around each bolt, her smile widens, true effort showing in the way her eyes tighten and her breath comes in gasps.
She backs into the storage bins and teeters off-balance for one beat, two—then her hands go up. Not a call for another lightning bolt.
Surrender.
Because my blade is pressed to her throat.
Oana smiles, and in that smile, I feel what I did.
I didn’t lose control of my magic. I didn’t need to fuel myself with anger or negativity. I let everything happen, trusting in myself—and I won.
My arms fall limp and the sword thumps into the mud. At that moment the sky responds. The rain abates, the thunder stills, and all threat of lightning disappears as the clouds roll back on themselves in a ripple of blinding blue sky.
A slow, heavy applause starts off to my left, and I turn. Every muscle aches, stiffness spiraling through me in pain I’ll feel for days. But it was worth it. Every bruise and cut—I’d take them a hundred times over to feel how I feel right now. And it didn’t come through seeking gratification from Sir or Hannah or even Rares.
Imade me whole.Iam enough for me.
I face Rares on the stairs in front of the castle’s maindoor, my grin relentless. Mather and Phil stand next to him, Phil looking completely horrified yet amazed, and Mather . . .
Awed, stunned, bewildered—there is no word to describe how he looks at me. His eyes dart over me, from my soaked hair to my mud-stained robe, absorbing me in jerky motions as if he can’t catch all of me at once. When he meets my gaze, his shock ebbs away in favor of a look I’ve never seen on him. One I always dreamed of seeing.
