Page 40 of Fated to the Frost King

The whiskey sat heavy in my throat. I hated the way my stomach turned, not just at the mention of the monsters, but also the way the bond rebelled at the idea of my cruel, ice-blooded husband being the last line of defense.

Nevara broke the quiet first. “He’ll hold the line. He always does.”

Always?

How many times had this court come close to the edge of ruin, only to be dragged back by their Frostgrave King?

She chose her words carefully, every time, which meant she was letting me know on purpose that this issue wasn’t new. Tocomfort me that he had it under control? Or so that I understood the gravity of the situation?

Lunch was served before anyone could respond to her. Not that I knew what to say, or even what to think about what this meant for all of us.

Conversation eventually resumed around the table, but it all passed in a low, muffled hum I barely heard. I nodded when expected, said the occasional word, even laughed once or twice when Soren aimed a particularly sharp barb at the Summer Court’s taste in art. But I was just barely here.

Even the promised soufflè turned to ash in my mouth. My mind was too full, of Tharnoks, of villages razed to the ground.

And of the bitter realization that the same power that had killed my family was the only thing keeping my sister safe.

Chapter 15

Everly

Over the next few days, I fell into something like routine.

I slept fitfully, dragged from slumber more than once by dreams I couldn’t remember and didn’t want to. My new wolf guardian remained ever-watchful, a silent shadow at my heels, as I made my way around the palace.

There were more documents to sign. More portrait sittings. More attempts to pretend I wasn’t unraveling, thread by careful thread. Eventually I stopped hiding Batty in my sleeve. I had plenty of secrets to keep. The court could busy themselves gossiping about this innocuous one if it made them so happy.

Nevara and Soren met me for lunch each day, their presence oddly grounding, like I’d slipped into someone else’s life and they were helping me hold the shape of it.

Our conversations grew lighter, easier. We drifted from palace gossip to strange court customs, from Autumn Court legends to the occasional vision Nevara refused to explain. Sometimes I thought she softened. Other times, it was like she disappeared entirely, lost to something only she could see.

But beneath it all, a quiet truth curled around every word like frost.

The king was still gone. Which meant the monsters were not.

On the fifth day, Soren insisted we finally visit the palace gardens.

“Fresh air,” he said, as if it were a novel concept. “A change of scenery. And more opportunities for you to meet venomous new friends—how can you possibly resist?”

Batty let out an indignant squeak followed abruptly by a hiss before Soren assured her he was teasing.

He wasn’t wrong, though. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d breathed air that didn’t taste like frostbitten stone and stale court perfume. Even the handful of times I’d ventured out to the balcony felt a little more like an extension of the room than the actual outdoors.

Nevara didn’t argue either, simply fell into step beside him as he led us to the East Gardens.

At first, the cold wind bit sharply against my skin. Instead of flinching away, I took a deep breath, allowing the icy air to burn my lungs. It was laced with the scent of pine trees and distant storms, and I drank it all down, inhaling deeply.

Gardens felt like too simple of a word to describe the veritable oasis we were standing in.

Hedgemazes stretched in perfect symmetry, their walls rimmed with silver frost and snow that glittered like crushed stars. Vines twisted up their sides, pulsing with pale light, their blooms impossibly vibrant and alive. Like something out of the Unseelie Wilds.

We weren’t the only ones who had chosen to take a stroll, either. Courtiers and palace staff taking their breaks walked along the winding paths, the low murmur of their conversations a gentle backdrop to the glistening scenery.

Others sat on benches with books in hand, poring over the pages the way I longed to do. My lips parted to ask Soren orNevara if we could visit the library later when the word ‘Hollow’ caught my attention.

I froze, scanning the gardens for where the voices were coming from.

“—said they took him to the mages. But they already knew there was nothing to be done.” A brief pause. A rustle of silk.

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