Page 115 of Frost and Death
My entrance pulls him away from reading, those glacial blue eyes and his scar alive with intrigue. I lick my lips, preparing for an explanation, but Jerrick scans me from head to toe, stopping back on the food tray.
His full face comes into view as he lowers his book, lips ticking up. “What do you have there, Frostbite?”
Heat punctures my skin as I try to not react to the nickname. I swallow the tightness building, counting myself lucky he is asking that rather than pointing out my lateness.
I cough before gesturing to the food tray. “I notice you do not eat while you are in here, and I thought it could help.”
Jerrick’s features soften.
It catches me off guard, so I add in my regret. “Ialsobrought it as an apology for my lateness.”
He arches a brow just as my stomach growls.
I stiffen, mortification setting in as Jerrick’s and my own eyes widen at my hunger voicing its misery.
“Clearly, youalsobrought it because you were hungry,” he teases, and I relax when his dimple appears through his devastatingly beautiful smile.
Jerrick breaks into a fit of genuine laughter, a deep rumble that vibrates in my bones.
It draws a blush across my face at the pureness of it, and I let my own join his. The surprise fills him with something more humanizing, making me realize I am, no doubt, one of theveryfew his mask has slipped around.
The mask of a ruler, the mask of a killer—the mask of amonster.
My heart aches as I realize it’s me looking at myself through a mirror. The thought is laced with a sharp fracturing of ice, forcing me to pinch my eyes and shudder.
When Jerrick’s laugh eases, he catches me just as I gather myself. But when he stands, he places the book on his chair, approaching me.
The thoughts I had have me arching away when he nears.
The amusement in his features dissolves quickly, and he stops midstep at my movement.
Jerrick cocks his head, confusion furrowing his brows. From his softened gaze, he looks apologetic, and that pang of guilt from earlier slams against me as I look upon the King of Palaena, the two of us having so much to apologize for.
Him for deceiving me and kidnapping me.
Me for my tardiness, when it should have been an apology for being so mean—so rude.
Both our actions are justified in our own minds, and right now, seeing Jerrick, I can’t help but wish things were different.
While I have every intention of going home, I don’t want to hurt anyone. And maybe if I took myself beyond my own thoughts, I could have seen his perspective earlier.
He, too, is burdened by his gifts, and I should have been more understanding.
If I had, maybe we both would be inclined to help one another. Maybe we could have made the best of our situation and worked together instead of against each other. Maybe we could have struck true peace, and there would be no need for Niko’s plan.
Kindness might be something Jerrick does not experience with many, and I should have been offering that sooner. I should be offering pleasantries I already share with his brother, Dorit, Cordelia, and Ophelia.
And as I study Jerrick, the wordless thought of apology feels thick in the air.
“I’m sorry—”
We stop ourselves after speaking in unison.
I cinch my mouth shut as Jerrick’s eyes widen. But it vanishes quickly, replaced by the softness from earlier. My heart stutters at this man, who’s offering me more than he has with his mask lowered.
I could give him that too, at least.
I smile kindly, and he visibly relaxes.
