Page 74 of Of Rime and Ruin
“I’m afraid, Your Majesty. If we can’t find a solution, my comrades will continue to face tragedy.” Cyrene shifts her weight, furs rustling.
With renewed determination, I meet her gaze. What is a king if not a symbol of leadership? A pageantry of hope—even if he has none?
I form my words carefully. “If their king would join them on the plains, would that boost morale?”
Her eyes widen. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty. It’d be an honor.”
My nerves clench at the instant approval. Was I rash to suggest it? Can I do this safely?
This curse requires I touch water before the Beast fully emerges. The Frosted Plains are a vast stretch of glacial ice, far from the reach of the sea. If I can’t complete the transformation, maybe it will keep the Beast at bay.
A bud of hope unfurls in my stomach, sweet and reckless. What if this has been the answer all along?
I don’t need Lucas’s research or routines. I just need to disappear in the vast, white north.
Cyrene awaits my response. “I will join you, then,” I grunt. “Ready a mount for me.”
Chapter thirty-two
Aethan
It’slatebythetime I leave the throne room and make my way to the parlor. The castle is quiet and dark, the loudest sound the soft crackling of torches and the distant creaking of ice floes on the Rime. I massage the tension from my jaw. My throat is parched from speaking all day, and my body aches for the soft relief of my furs.
How do I expect to fare on a hunt? Sitting in a saddle in the cold wind, or giving speeches to boost morale? Fuck. What if the ice cracks and I fall in—my secret exposed by beastly rampage? A chill runs up my spine.
It’s not possible. The Frosted Plains stretch across a meters-thick crust of ice that never melts, even in the warm season. The hunters will be safe from me. I’ll ride my own mount away from the others, so that way if…
My thoughts scramble as I reach the stairway, my scales rising with intuition—I’m no longer alone. A shadowed female figure stands at the top of the steps, the white of her night-robeshimmering in the darkness. Silk, likely. She tiptoes, peering over the railing in the other direction from me. Her dark curls hang loosely down her back and brush the top of her shapely rear end, which the hem barely covers.
I pause.
She takes a few steps down, then leans over the rail, as if straining to see something in the near-darkness. The hem lifts. Black lace clings to the curves of her ass cheeks, delicate and much too scant. My breath catches and warmth floods my face. Who gave her such things to wear in public?
A quick scan of the parlor proves we’re alone, to my twisted satisfaction. There are no watchful eyes on her. Only mine.
I clear my throat, and the princess whirls around, letting out a muffled gasp.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say.
Her startled expression changes swiftly into annoyance. “And why not?”
“It’s late.” I step onto the bottom stair and grasp the railing. “You don’t know what could be lurking in the shadows.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” She glances over the railing again, and I track her gaze. The door to the servant quarters is closed, and it’s past the time Deirdre and Lucas turn in for the night. What could she want down there?
“If you need a cup of tea, I’m sure Deirdre would be more than happy to serve you. In yourroom.”
“No, thank you.”
“You expect me to believe Your Highness is wandering the halls at night, not in search of tea, after you’ve already had a tour of the castle grounds. How curious.” I step up again, closing the gap between us. “You see why I must assume you’re up to no good.”
“Certainly not.” She lifts her chin defiantly.Cute.But if she wants to intimidate me, she should try being less adorable.
“Then what are you up to?”
Her fingers trail along the banister as she steps down. I catch a whiff of her scent on the air, sweet vanilla and sunlight. For a moment, my eyelids flutter closed, and when I catch her eye again, she smirks. Looks at me from beneath her lashes.
“Nothing good,” she says. She takes a few more steps, and she glances around me, as if meaning to pass. A bold choice.
