Page 91 of Frost and Death
She waves off my concern, remaining unbothered. “Jonas tells his partner Viggo everything, and Viggo tells me everything.”
I laugh. “Deities, I never thought I would hear castle gossip.”
Dorit’s eyes twinkle with excitement, opening her mouth to tell me more.
I lift my hand to stop her. “I don’t want to know anything else.”
“Not even what they say aboutyou?” she teases, thinking I want to know what people here think of me.
“Please, no. I can only imagine the worst.”
The mood shifts around the four of us as I grip the stem of my goblet, bristling at the wretched nicknameSnow Queenringingin my ears and following me from Axidoria. There is no doubt word of my arrival in Palaena has already reached the entire kingdom, despite the king’s threat.
Scornful, hateful gazes of people will follow me everywhere I go.
My powers and the dreaded winter threatening my kingdom as well as other kingdoms put everyone’s lives at risk. I hate that the fate of controlling my abilities lies in the hands of my enemy.
Ophelia breaks my dark thoughts, seeking to raise my spirits. “Dorit has told us of your kindness, and we have seen it firsthand, Your Majesty. Along with your beauty.”
I inwardly cringe at her compliment, turning from the compassion she offers.
The harsh truth of beauty is all but a lie. There is no beauty inside of me.
Only a monster.
I force out my thanks. “I appreciate your sweet words, Ophelia.”
Cordelia adds, “I have no doubt in my mind everyone would love to celebrate your and the king’s union.”
I bristle at the wordunion,my failure of not seeing it through last night hitting me thicker than Dorit’s perfume. Smiling tight and nodding, I try to hide how close I am to breaking.
I already lost it with Dorit, but she has been the only constant here.
I can’t lose it with these two women right now.
Sweet Makers, I need to do something.
Glancing out the window, I feel as if time itself is slipping. I sag with exhaustion, my head partially swimming from the wine I’ve consumed.
Dorit picks up on my mood. “I think it might be time for Tove to return to her chambers. She has a lot to do since recovering.” Dorit rests a hand on my arm, the touch warm and comforting,and I meet her gaze, grateful for her awareness of my demeanor in such a short time.
Ophelia and Cordelia push away from the table, taking the cups and basket of bread back toward their workstations.
“We should do this again, Tove.” Cordelia lingers on the use of my name rather than my title, and my cheeks perk up.
Ophelia says, “We would love to get to know our queen more if she will allow us.”
Dorit beams at her friends, a blanket of comfort wrapping itself around me in their presence.
While the Mikkelsons are the enemy, their people are not, and the ease of conversation between these women has me wishfully thinking I can make acquaintances here.
I rise, inclining my head to the women who have been themselves in my presence, save for when they first saw me. I hope their authenticity may continue with and without Dorit, should I ever be allowed a chance to visit without a chaperone.
“Thank you for allowing me into your work area, and thank you for the wine and rolls,” I tell them.
Dorit and I head for the archway, but I peer back. “Rolls are my favorite, and the ones you’ve made each day, somehow, are better than the last day’s.”
Ophelia pats her partner’s shoulder, Cordelia looking as if she could cry at my words.
