Page 129 of Frost Like Night
Ceridwen grunts, unconvinced. “Well. There’s othernews to share in the meantime.”
We enter the palace. The warm polished wood of the walls wraps around us, a cozy contrast to the vibrancy outside. My eyes flit of their own volition to our right, where the paneled walls hide a doorway and an office beyond. Noam’s old office. Did Theron take it as his?
A servant appears and beckons us to our rooms.
“We received word from Ventralli,” Ceridwen starts as we trail the servant. “They’ve settled on a system of elections. The whole process is fascinating—they’re to run the kingdom completely under the leadership of someone selected by the people.”
I pull my voice low. “Jesse doesn’t regret ceding the kingdom to his advisers?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen him so happy. Knowing Ventralli will progress beyond what he could have done . . . we’re both pleased with what’s developing.”
“Thinking of instating such elections in Summer?” I tease, only because it does, in fact, sound like something both she and I would wholeheartedly support.
She grunts. “Maybe, once the kingdom is in a better state of mind. Speaking of—we’ve set up an honest trade with Yakim. It appears Giselle has given up her goal of overtaking Summer now that there’s no magic in the Klaryns. I’ve almost gone from loathing her to only hating her.”
“That’s wonderful!” My smile softens. “I’m happy for you.”
She nudges me. “The feeling is mutual, Winter queen.”
We follow a staircase up and pass into a hallway that looks familiar, crystal chandeliers and plush maroon carpet.
“I believe you enjoyed this room last time,” the servant says, stopping next to an open door.
I glance into the room and recognition flares—it’s the room I stayed in when I first came to Bithai, with the canopy bed and lavender rug and heavy white curtains.
“I’m so blind,” I say.“Mona?”
The servant who attended me when I was last here. She giggles. “You remember!”
“Of course!” I look around. “Where is—”
“Rose got married. Lives on the coast now. But it got me a promotion!” Mona sweeps into a curtsy. “If you need anything, let me know. I’m so happy you’re here,QueenMeira.” She winks, her emphasis on my title bringing up all those Cordellan etiquette classes.
I smile. “Me too.” And I mean it, more than I realized I would.
“The rest of your party has been given the rooms around yours,” Mona continues. “You’ve a few hours before the evening meal commences with music in the ballroom. Enjoy your stay.”
As she leaves, Jesse turns to Ceridwen. “We should let them rest. Tonight will most likely be long.”
Ceridwen agrees with a halfhearted groan and jabs a finger at me. “Find us when you’re done resting.” Her lipscurve into a sly grin as she nods at Mather. “Or whatever you’re planning to do.”
Mather laughs and dives forward, burying his face in my neck with a bearlike growl as he pushes us through the door. Poor Conall and Greer scramble for their rooms, and the reactions of Mather’s Thaw range from giggling to hiccup laughing.
Mather kicks the door shut as I manage to disentangle from him.
He catches my arm. “Wait—Ceridwen had a good idea. . . .”
I smile. “Torest. We’ll need all the strength we can get for tonight.”
Mather moves toward me again, but his playfulness is gone. “Are you all right?”
What a question. “Yes. No.” I wrap my arms around myself. A love of the cold still resonates in all Winterians, but it was a trait that sprouted after years of magical influence. Will it now slowly fade? All I know is that I think I’m uncomfortably chilly. Or maybe just overwhelmed.
Mather puts his hands on my shoulders, his forehead to mine. “You’re not alone.”
I curl in, tucking my arms around Mather’s waist. With my head bent along his chest, my eyes land on a painting beside the wardrobe.
Morning light catches banks of snow, the bending bows of snow-laden tree branches, the dripping daggers of icicles.This painting is as familiar as the city, as the palace.
