Page 65 of Frost and Death
I am not going to die. Even if I beg the Makers to let me reunite with my family, I cannot leave Niko and my home at risk from this monster.
The frigid winter is better for my kingdom than being left in the hands of Palaena.
If playing along with his whims allows me to live and get to the bottom of what he meant, then so be it. I clench my fists, everything in me trying to not spew a remark that could make him truly leave me to die.
“Pleasetake me with you,” I grind out.
He leans back, laughing in feigned joy, and jumping off the horse to approach. “Oh, I am so glad you chose right, Frostbite!” He extends his hands yet again.
I wiggle and grunt through each breath. “Stop calling me that,” I snarl, torturously rising with Jerrick’s help.
I haven’t been standing for a full minute as the world falls out from under me. Swaying side to side, my weight slips enough for even Jerrick to scramble to help me remain upright.
You can’t die when he hasn’t answered your questions, Tove!
My brain runs in circles despite sleeping through the night. Trying to push myself and be coherent, I grunt through the entire painful experience, pulling in my shoulder as Jerrick and I make it to the horse.
But as exhaustion sweeps over me again, I swear there are two Jerricks holding onto my leg. I huff a laugh at both of them.
“There are two of you,” I remark faintly.
“Fuck,” Jerrick mutters as my head lolls.
The person before me blurs and disappears, and suddenly, I am on the horse, a force guiding me to lean into Jerrick’s embrace.
My mind is spent, the few steps of walking disintegrating my emotions and feelings toward my captor.
Or were there two?
I can’t remember anymore.
“I feel cold,” I warn the two blobs.
Jerrick puts his hand on my forehead—it is so warm. Relief tugs at my lips over the heat coming off him.
“You’re burning up,” one of the two blurry people comments.
“Jer—” I try to say, but I am freezing, and my body is so heavy.
I blink as everything grows darker.
Warm cologne and leather mixes into the air. I lean into a solid cushion, faintly aware of the memory from a few days ago. That was such a different time, filled with dresses, wine, and dancing.
And a handsome man that rubbed my hand in circles in the same way my sister once did.
A glimmer of a smile twinkles against my lips at the thought as I settle, eyes closing and black dots pulling my consciousness away.
A melody played with the soft, tentative touch of keys on my piano dwindles in the back of my mind.
“Mmmm. Home,” I hum, rubbing my nose into the warm pillow, hearing a low, rich chuckle repeating in my mind.
13
Is this Home?
Basking in the infinite abyss of slumber is, for once, peaceful to my dreams. It isn’t often when I am deep in sleep that the darkness swallows me whole, protecting me from my past and from my night terrors. It is freeing to be in this harmonious pit of nothingness.
Yet there is a rustling to my right.
