Page 65 of Of Rime and Ruin
“Your report, Captain,” I say. My voice croaks, and I clear it as my cheeks flush.
He massages the ridge of his nose, shaking his head. “No luck, Sire.”
My heart sinks. That’s it, then. She’s gone. At least they didn’t find half of her. Either I consumed her entirely, and my secret is safe, or she got away.
Either way, I’m fucked.
I thank the Frost Guard for their service tonight, unable to meet the captain’s inquisitive gaze. They shiver, standing tall as they try to hide their chattering teeth. They’re good soldiers, all of them. It’s too bad their king is a monster.
I grunt, turn toward the gate, and shuffle inside without another word.
As I approach the dining hall, Deirdre’s voice floats through the night, cheerful and wide-awake. I quiet my footsteps and pause outside the door.
There’s someone in the room with my housekeeper. Deirdre offers them tea, followed by the sound of splashing water. A clinking spoon.
Another voice answers the housekeeper—familiar and warm—and my heart trips.
“This is the last one, though. Any more tea and I think I might burst,” the princess says with a giggle.
She’s alive.
Chills spread over my body, lifting every scale. I stagger, gripping the doorframe. My forehead thumps against the wood.
Inside the room, footsteps approach.
She’s alive.
Goddess, it makes me want to scream. Though for joy or annoyance, I can’t say.
She’s alive, and my secret lives with her.
Alive and giggling.
I couldn’t have harmed herthatmuch then. If she’s feeling well enough to laugh?
The doorknob turns, and the door dips away from me. I exhale sharply and scramble to find my composure.
Light spills into the hallway, revealing the round face of my housekeeper. Her eyes are bleary and sleep-deprived but cheerful. Shock spreads over her features like a guppy caught stealing cookies.
“Your Majesty! I wasn’t expecting you at this hour.” She drops into a quick curtsy, rearranging her expression. “Did someone let you out, love? Are you okay?” she whispers.
“Do you ever sleep, Deirdre?”
“About as much as you do, Sire.”
I peek into the candlelit room. Deirdre’s silhouette blocks my view of the princess. I make out only her smooth, brown ankle tucked daintily around the leg of a chair.
If I could invoke her to turn with just a glare, I would. I stare at that small expanse of skin, willing it to move, for her foot to flatten on the floor, to stand and face me. I need to see her. All of her. Whole.
“Would you like some tea, Sire?” Deirdre hedges. I shift my gaze, locating the concern in her eyes. “I can bring it to your room.”
“No, I’ll take it in here.”
“Are you sure, Sire? I’ve got… company.”
The housekeeper opens the door wider, revealing the princess inside.
Her half-damp hair hangs behind her chair, catching the lamplight. She’s wrapped in furs, curling her hands around a steaming mug of tea. She turns, and I meet her large, brown eyes.
