Page 11 of Frost and Death
Niko’s voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
I brush off his impending rejection, reassuring him with a gentle pat on his hand.
“Don’t worry, Niko, I know you don’t have any interest in me.” I chuckle, my head buzzing as a small truth slips through. “But I hope you understand, in my eyes, no one is like you. I enjoy your company immensely, but you are the one who told me I needed to find a husband, so you can’t have me all to yourself anymore.”
Niko blinks rapidly, stunned by this revelation. He latches on to my hand, all jokes set aside as he stammers through those adorably red cheeks. “You—You enjoy my company?”
A change in the air from his stutter has me inching closer, wanting to tell him yes. The lust and thought of him drown my senses.
But I swallow quickly, searching his eyes for any tells, any signs.
My mouth parts, trying to formulate words—
“Queen Tove!” a joyous voice booms from the ballroom.
I beam toward it.
Bernard Sylvaine, the King of Belmur, approaches the dais with the light of the room reflecting off him.
He is a kind man, reminding me so much of my father, except for his fading red hair and sun-kissed freckles. His beard is lighter, trimmed close to his jaw, moving, as his grandiose laugh echoes through the ballroom’s conversations. His height and bloated belly can be intimidating, and he uses it to his advantage, forcing guests to steer clear of him.
“King Bernard,” I say when he reaches the dais. “Thank you so much for coming this evening.”
It is hard to hide my enthusiasm around King Bernard. He makes everyone want to feel loved and carefree.
“Oh, come now,” he says through a genuine smile, offering me an overexaggerated bow before rising to his full height. “How many times must I tell you, Tove? Call me Bernie. We are well past that, don’t you think?”
Bernie’s kingdom was one of the first to reach out after my accession to the throne, offering visits and words of wisdom in every trade meeting I coordinated with him. His poor wife, Johanne, passed away a few years back, leaving his twin daughters without their mother.
Bernie’s glee is purely infectious, a cathartic lightness that consumes me as I reply, “Very well,Bernie. But only amongst each other. No need for others to hear us breaking protocol.”
I find enjoyment in the moments when he visits our kingdom because, in his presence, I don’t feel like a monster—I don’t believe I am the Snow Queen.
When inviting the other kingdoms in Draymenk, I knew Belmur and Unterkirch would be the only two in attendance this week. They are the ones I have the closest working relationship with.
I am on friendly terms with King Beauvais Rosselot of Torgem, but he always seems busy, given most letters I receive are from his advisors rather than him. Then there are Queen Zarina and King Vinzent Geissler of Northtry, who remain distant. But according to my parents, they have always been like that, only attending and joining meetings when all kingdoms call.
And the last kingdom, Palaena…
Stop it.Don’t dwell on them, Tove. Don’t sour your mood around watchful eyes.
One of Bernie’s daughters, Princess Vivienne, promenades from behind her father, dipping into a curtsy.
Her tall, lean frame nears her father’s height, with a heart-shaped face buried beneath long, wavy locks red as a rose. She does not have freckles, but her skin, too, is kissed by sunlight. She is polite and mindful, always keeping to herself while wearing the same inquisitive look I see now.
I dip my head. “Princess Vivienne, such a pleasure to have you here joining your father.”
Her emerald-green eyes meet mine as she rises to her full stature, assessing. “The pleasure is all mine, Queen Tove.” She beams.
Bernie’s pride shines through as he looks upon his daughter, and I can’t help but feel a tinge of pain at witnessing the love exchanged between the two.
She catches his stare, sheepishly pulling some hair around her face.
A cough from Niko at my side reminds me I am not as alone as I think. Shaking off the tug of pain and maintaining appearances, I smile back at my guests. “Is your sister in attendance?”
Vivienne is about to speak, but her father’s voice booms over hers. “Oh, come now, Tove. Someone needed to watch over our borders.”
“And you trust your daughter to do that for you?” Niko asks.
