Page 27 of The Snow Queen

They’d started with Jereena, obviously; they were quite close to Belle’s due date, so it had been a question of killing two birds with one stone.

“Elves. Seriously,” the Dowager King Armand said. Then, turning to Kai, he smirked. “I thought you were funny little people of three feet or so, who helped prepare the Winter Cheers.”

“Would my punching your father be considered a diplomatic issue, Aiden?”

“No, by all means, be my guest.”

Kai punched Armand, who didn’t stop smirking.

“I’m quite happy to sign this acknowledgement of your domain, of course. Technically, this land didn’t exist until last month, anyway.”

Eira had left the wards down, and lifted those on her city, too. It turned out, the chain of mountains he’d never fully explored were larger than Jereena and Ferren put together, almost three quarter of the size of Alenia.

Now she’d stopped freezing everything, they were an explotable land, too. They could plan, and herd their animals.

If they had still less than four hundred subjects, Kai wouldn’t have let Fyn and Eira convince him to rebuild his kingdom, but other elves had made it within days of the attack on their village.

It turns out, by binding him to her, Eira had claimed his people, too. No human could hope to retain any hold over the subjects of a god.

Well, two gods. It was difficult to get used to the idea, but it seemed he was now one, too.

“So, how are you dealing with all that diety shit?” Aiden asked him. “The other day, I got my guard to break my shoulder to see how long it took to heal. Five freaking minutes.”

“Yeah, dear Eira didn’t bother to mention that fact, until her friend threw me right down a precipice, for a laugh.”

Some day, he was going to get his revenge, and Persephone would beg for mercy.

“Shit. That didn’t kill you either?”

“Only beheading works,” Eira clarified. “And some of us can reform a head; it’s best to burn the remains. Unless you deal with a fire-whelding fiend. Then, you’ve probably just help him heal quicker.”

The two guys were smiling from ear to ear.

“Wanna crash a car and see who comes out first?”

Eira rolled her eyes.

“Boys,” Belle summarized. “Anyway, what’s the next stop, Alenia?”

“We considered it, but I thought of starting with Denker, actually. We heard something about a conflict between Alenia and the Woodlands; the de Luzes might have their hands full.”

“Yes,” Aiden nodded, his face instantly somber. “The Woodland Queen has been accused of murdering the rightful heir to the throne by a huntsman, before he mysteriously disappeared. Alenia demands an investigation, and she’s dragging her heels. There’s a story there.”

Twelve months ago,

The Woodlands

Virtue, understanding and patience were all well and good, but sometimes a girl just needed a break.

Blanche ran out of the door right after her twelve hour shift, without even bothering to get out of the sweaty clothes. She needed fresh air, freedom; but more than anything, she needed control right now, and that was what the forest at the foot of Nordeen Castle represented for her.

If Queen Ilda had any idea, she would have each tree plucked out to ensure she was left no respite – and no power.

Blanche didn’t stop until she’d reached the river, a good mile into the forest; some Woodlanders might venture out – they were, after all, a country of huntsmen and foragers – but those who would weren’t loyal to Queen Ilda. Her pawns knew better than to try and enter Blanche’s domain.

In the rest of the continent, people might have forgotten or stopped believing in the tales, but the Woodlands was a small country, and their rulers had always been generous with their magic.

Each year, there was a festival where the royal family had given their thanks to nature, a pageant affair involving barefoot dances and other embarrassing stuff; their magic had shined through for all to see, pouring into their lands.

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