Page 115 of Of Rime and Ruin
Grief. Agony. Pain.
“ENOUGH!” I boom.
Lucas cuts his spell, and the tendrils of magic suck out of my body. I stagger, tripping on a broken piece of chair, and catch myself on his desk. My claws dig deep, puncturing the wood.
“That’s enough,” I pant. “We’re done here.” My head spins. My heart pounds out an angry beat, threatening to break my ribs. I inhale. Count to ten. Count to twenty. Count again. Picture her face. Her bright, warm face.
Lucas watches me from a distance. I peer sideways at him, loathing the way he folds his hands neatly in front of him. Like a goddessdamn saint. His mouth drops in a disappointed scowl.
“We will try again tomorrow,” he says. “If you want him gone, Your Majesty, you’ll have to let him go.”
Chapter forty-seven
Nahla
Dayfourandstillnot a peep from the Frost King. I have the urge to sprawl myself naked before the fire, tuck my hand between my legs, and sing a summoning song. Could he resist me then? I bet he’d be here in five seconds flat. Break through that door and grovel like a good boy.
But I don’t do that. Instead, I sink into the leather chair by the fireplace and pick yet another book. The stone tablet rests in my lap, humming quietly with activated magic, moving pictures in my mind. It’s another story about another couple falling desperately in love. Working against the odds to be together, and in the end, love wins. It always does. So why does it break my heart?
When the lovers fuck, I chuck the book into the fire. The flames lick at the stone, but it remains unharmed.Fucking useless magical artifacts.What good are they if I can’t burn them in my rage?
A short pattern of knocks sound on the door—one heavy, two quick, then two light taps. Perrin. I move to answer him, repeating the pattern on my side of the door. Then the lock turns and the door cracks open. Lamplight spills in from the bright hallway.
“Hey,” he says, sticking his head through the gap. “Got more books for you.”
I take the stack of tablets and hug them to my chest. Three, this time. Glancing at the titles, I guess they’re more romance.
“From the Royal Icicle?”
Perrin nods. “Who else?”
I roll my eyes. “Hey, do you think you could go to the library and find some different books for me?”
The young guard brightens. “Sounds like an adventure, I like it. I’ll have to find someone to take my place for a bit…”
I level him with a look. “I’m not escaping, Perrin. I’m just tired of the king’s taste in romantic comedy.”
“Right.”
“Think you could find me history books? I’m curious to learn more about the Frost Kingdom. Origin stories, royal lineage, famous battles. Know of anything like that?” Anything to help me figure out the mysterious king.
“Sure. I’ll look later today, when I’m on lunch.”
If it wasn’t weird, I’d pinch his cheeks. I give him my best, friendliest smile instead. “Thanks, Perrin.”
He shoots me a sheepish grin before he locks me in again. I add Aethan’s books to the growing stack by the fire, then pace the room.
Aethan is doing what he said he would. Piles and piles of romance books. Way too many to read in a few days. Is that his goal, then? To stuff me with romance fantasies so I can escape the reality ofhisfailures?
And when you run out. I’ll get you more.
Shit. I should have seen this coming. He said it, clear as day. That night he got drunk on the Frosted Plains and told me he wanted to keep me forever.
That way, you’ll never have reason to leave me.
I should take the books and shove them out the window. Drop them right into the snow. Refuse them when Perrin brings me romance. No books? No reason to stay. Maybe that’ll teach the king his lesson.
With a determined huff, I scoop a pile. Out the window it is. As I make my way to the curtain, I feel a mental tug. A wisp of feeling at the periphery of my conscience.
