Page 23 of The Prince and the Ice King

A scowl crossed Reardon’s face, like he knew of some not so well-meaning subjects, but he kept that story to himself. “I apologize if my naivete is a concern to you, but that is why I wish to learn. The banquet… I know it was not really meant for me, but it was still wonderful.”

“Yes, parlor tricks, wine, and amorous strangers.” Jack trailed the tips of his claws down the front of his throne, watching Reardon’s body language and the way he bit his lip. “I bet you thought you were right at home, like in the cellar of some sleazy tavern.”

“I have never frequented brothels, if that’s what you’re implying!” Even Reardon’s ears went red at that. “Your wizard said the same, but I am not like that.”

“It’s easy to pretend you like magic and mixed company when it’s a novelty instead of a way of life.”

“Knowing each other means putting aside assumptions, and you are making a lot about me.”

If that scarlet color was as real as it seemed, Jack wondered how naive Reardon truly was. “So, convince me you’re interesting enough not to simply banish you from my sight.”

Something seemed to spring to Reardon’s mind immediately, but he dismissed whatever it was and emboldened himself with something else. “I told you my mother died. I was ten years old.”

“And how old are you now?”

“Twenty-one.”

Maybe a rebel then. If his father was Prince Consort and only King as placeholder, then Reardon was meant to marry within a year and take the throne.

“Her death raised many suspicions,” Reardon continued. “No one could explain it, and so magic was blamed. But I never believed that. There was no evidence; people simply chose something they didn’t understand to be the scapegoat because they saw no other answer.”

“Your point?”

“I never jump to conclusions. Not about anyone or anything. I’m a scientist. I would have apprenticed as an alchemist right along with Barclay if I’d had the option. But I also believe that magic can’t be any eviler by default than alchemy. Nothing is evil by default, only by choice.”

A philosopher too, but that wouldn’t change anything.

Lurching up from his lounged position, Jack took great enjoyment in the way Reardon scrambled back as he began to lumber toward him. “You might be everything you claim to be, little prince. But your task here is also to convince me that releasing you won’t bring doom upon my kingdom.”

“When I am king—”

“You will still be at the mercy of your people.”

“I can sway them—”

“With what? What will your arguments be?”

Reardon floundered, starting and stopping again many times, before giving up with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know, but that was why I asked to see you each day. I can only discover the answers by learning. I appreciate all the time you are willing to give me.”

Jack could move upright like a man, but it was easiest on all fours with how large and changed his form had become. Regardless, he remained tall, looming over Reardon. “You get until I notice your potion has begun to wear off. No longer.

“Why don’t we start with a walk?”

“W-walk?”

“So you can see mygardenfor yourself.”

Turning around, Jack headed for the door to the right of his throne. When he reached it, he looked back to see that Reardon had not yet moved.

“Well?”

Clambering forward, Reardon showed commendable speed to catch up, long limbs flailing, yet he was still somehow graceful. He shivered asthey moved into the passageway, but there were no signs of ice crystals forming on his skin or clothes.

Jack had to hunch to traverse the corridors upright, knowing each path by heart as he led Reardon through halls and down several staircases, all paved in ice, toward the ground floor and a door to outside.

It was early morning and late in the year. The sacrifice arrived the first day of winter, and so today was the second, meaning that outside was just as cold as in Jack’s chamber as they stepped out into the sun.

Reardon was as impervious to this cold as to Jack’s with the potion in his veins, and he smiled as he tilted his head toward the light. “It was freezing following the caravan all those nights. How wonderful to be outdoors in winter in nothing but a doublet and be this warm.”

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