Page 68 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

“Because of your human?” Uanna’s expression hardens, warmth crystallizing into ice. “Fine. Keep your little pet. But when Prince Jonyk arrives, do try to remember your position.” Her lips curve into a cruel smile—nothing like the way they’d yielded under mine. “After all, His Highness does so enjoy collecting exotic creatures.”

Her words hang in the air between us. My hands clench at my sides, frost forming around my feet as I remember how she’d once promised to keep my secrets. To stand beside me no matter what.

“Was that a threat, Lady Uanna?”

“Of course not, darling.” She pops her fan open again, a barrier between us as final as the death of trust. “Simply a warning. From one old friend to another.”

Friend. It means as little to Uanna asduty.

She glides away, leaving me standing in the frozen hallway.

Through an open door, I catch another glimpse of Lara in her new dress, and something in my chest tightens. The sight of her in properservant’s clothing should make this easier. Should help me remember my purpose.

Instead, it only reminds me of everything I’m destroying.

Let Uanna think the dress means I’m claiming Lara as belonging to me—as a servant, as a lover. Uanna’s right, of course—the dress does mark Lara as mine.

But the truth is far more dangerous.

Sure, I’ve clothed her to survive court politics, given her a dress to protect her from the machinations of the courtiers in my home. If only protecting her were as simple as changing her clothes. The new dress serves its purpose—but it won’t protect her from what I have to do next. New clothing was never going to protect her from the monster I’m becoming. And when her sister arrives, survival won’t be an option.

For now, though, the dress is perfect camouflage.

It hides her true nature...

And mine.

CHAPTER 20

LARA

It’s the morning of the day before Prince Jonyk and his entourage are scheduled to arrive, and Starfrost Manor is almost ready for the Ice Prince’s arrival.

The ballroom with the metallic wings on the wall has been cleaned and polished until it’s almost painfully clean, and we’re all spending the day putting the final touches on the decorations.

Fintan brings in armloads of alien flowers. Ice-white blooms that look like frozen roses, others with delicate petals that look like lacy fabric draped across the tabletops, stems with dangling heads like snowdrops, sprays of spiky white petals, clusters of tightly closed buds, and more, all exotic and cold, acclimated to this frozen realm. Clusters of red berries punctuate the white bouquets. If greenery draped the halls of the manor, the whole affair would have a Christmas holiday feel to it.

But not a single touch of green can be found anywhere in Starfrost Manor—as if even the evergreen color would detract from the purity of the iciness.

Adefina, Kila and I are in the kitchen rolling out cinnamon-scented dough for the non-Ice Court’s food.

Outside, Fintan is slaughtering a moose, slicing the meat into thin red filets. Later, Adefina and I will go out to spice the raw meat, preparing it for the Ice Court’s consumption, along with other icy concoctions.

The door to the main house swings open, and two Icecaix housemaids enter—Ramira to fetch Ivrael’s breakfast tray, Oriana there to watch in case she can glean any good gossip about the deviant behaviors of the Starcaix working in the kitchen with the human. And possibly to provoke us into a response that will anger the duke enough to… I’m not sure what, actually. Punish us, maybe? Have us hanged in the courtyard?

I curl my forefinger around Kila’s waist as she hovers in the air before me. She’s the most volatile of the Starcaix in the household, and I won’t allow her to do anything that might lead the two housemaids to harm her.

Oriana sees the motion and snickers, then falls back to let Ramira step forward, usually a sign they believe they have something to brag about.

Ramira preens, her nose tilting up in the air, and gives me a smug look. “I’ve heard none but His Lordship’s favorites have been assigned to serve Prince Jonyk’s entourage.”

“And the prettiest,” Oriana adds. “He doesn’t want His Highness offended by anything base or foul.”

“Like a filthy human kitchen drudge. After all, no Ice Prince would tolerate ashes in his food,” Ramira says, and the two of them cover their mouths with their hands and titter.

Adefina passes the morning tray to Ramira, giving it an extra shove as she hands it off so it hits the Icecaix housemaid hard in the stomach, and Ramira staggers back a step.

“Oops. Excuse me,” Adefina sings out. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention to where you were standing.”

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