Page 44 of The War of Four Winters

As our ship slipped through the narrow channel between the mangroves toward open water, I touched the hilt of my sword and thought of Ruith. I hoped he was faring well back in Calibarra. Hopefully, the journey home would be less eventful.

Thecoldseepedintomy dreams, waking me with a gasp. My hand reached across the empty furs, finding only the memory of Elindir's warmth. It’d been nine days since he’d set sail for Homeshore, and I felt every one of them in my bones.

Our chambers were bitter cold despite the roaring fire. The pain in my ribs throbbed sharper in the cold.

Rising was a battle, responsibility settling on my shoulders before my feet touched the floor. At the window, my breath clouded the frosted glass. Beyond it, Calibarra lay buried beneath relentless snow. No ordinary winter, this. In thirty-two years, I'd never seen such fury descend so suddenly.

The servants had left water for washing, though it was no longer warm. I broke through the thin skin of ice with my knuckles, welcoming the sharp cold that cleared my mind.

I dressed in layers, choosing warmth over appearance though I knew a king who looked defeated would soon find his followers losing heart. The thought of Leif and Torsten waiting downstairs pulled me forward. Our morning meals had become a ritual in Elindir's absence. My presence reassured them, though perhaps I needed their company more than they needed mine. Those boys were the only link I had to him now.

The corridors were colder than yesterday. Servants hurried past with blankets and firewood, their breath visible as they bowed. I did my best to nod to each and every one of them. I wished I knew them all by name, but there were too many of them now. Once the war was over, perhaps there would be time to learn them.

In the small dining chamber, both boys huddled near the fire. Leif sat with a book while Torsten traced patterns in the frost-covered window.

"Torsten, come away from there," I said. "The stone will steal all your warmth."

He turned from his work. "I'm making a map. Look, this is Calibarra, and these are the mountains—"

"Show me by the fire," I interrupted. "Your fingers are blue."

He abandoned his frost map reluctantly, warming his hands at the flames. "Did you know ice makes different patterns depending on the temperature? Master Gracin says you can tell how cold it is by the crystals."

"Is that so?" I asked, taking my seat where breakfast waited. "What does today's ice tell you?"

"That it's really, really cold," he said, dropping into his chair. "Colder than yesterday, but maybe not as cold as tomorrow."

Leif closed his book. "The water pitcher froze solid overnight."

I nodded, uncovering porridge that barely steamed. "The storm grows stronger. We need to be careful about staying warm."

"Is that why people were sleeping in the great hall?" Leif asked. His perception always surprised me. "Because it's warmer together?"

"Yes. We're bringing everyone into the inner fortress where fires burn more efficiently."

Torsten reached for bread, taking a large portion. "Master Gracin says the forges are warmest. He let me help with the bellows when my feet got cold."

I watched him spread honey thickly. "The forges are warm but dangerous. Only go there with Master Gracin watching."

"I know," he said, offended. "I'm sorting metals. He says I have a good eye."

Leif pushed food around his plate. "When is Elindir coming back?"

"The storm makes sailing difficult," I said, choosing honesty without voicing my fears. "Captain Yisra is the best navigator in the land. She'll find a way when it's safe."

Leif watched my face. "You're worried."

I couldn't lie to him. "Yes. I worry about many things. It's what kings do."

"About Elindir most of all," Torsten added. "Because you love him."

The simple truth caught me off guard. Children cut through what adults dance around for years. "Yes. I worry for him most. But he's strong and clever. If anyone can return through this storm, it's Elindir."

Leif set down his spoon. "He promised he'd come back. Elindir doesn't break promises."

His faith made my throat tight. I couldn't match his certainty, not with my fears running so deep, but I nodded, accepting his comfort.

A sharp knock interrupted us. The boys tensed at the sudden noise. Katyr entered, snow dusting his golden curls, his expression grim.

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