Page 106 of A Frozen Pyre
“Suley is gone.” Zita swallowed.
“She’s on my land,” Ceneth said. “She’s very safe among my people, and I’m certain she’s fine. I’ll send word and a tracker will find her within the hour of our arrival.”
She nearly protested, given Suley’s wishes for a solitary life, but was warmed by a thought. The young fae had sought asylum to be free of the noise. Now, thanks to the blood magic of the fae called Dwyn, Suley had gotten her wish. Maybe between the two of them, Zita and Suley wouldn’t need to spend the rest of their days alone. Perhaps they couldshare the years that remained, free from the curses that had plagued them.
For the first time in a long time, Zita felt an unfamiliar ember of hope.
Her happily ever after awaited her, and at last, it took the shape of peace.
Zita shivered against the chill that crept through her poisoned blood. “I would like that very much. I believe Suley would, too. But we won’t be able to fly all the way back to Raascot without provisions, and I’m too sick to contribute.”
“It’s all taken care of, Queen Zita. It’s over, and we’ve won. The rest of my party is awaiting us,” Ceneth said. “They were instructed not to attend the wedding. They’re waiting near Farehold’s Temple of the All Mother. It seemed a safe rallying point away from prying eyes. They have food, water, and the warm clothes we’ll need for travel. Are you well? We can carry on.”
She confirmed that she was fine but wasn’t certain it was true. The chill she felt wasn’t solely the result of the weather. Her blood cooled, cold sweat clinging to her forehead. She’d sustained her frenzy for a long, long time. She’d only used it twice in her life, and both times had nearly resulted in her demise. The first time, her tutors and peers in the palace had been the ones to pay the price as she’d discovered her power for chaos. After six days in bed carefully watched over by healers and a crying mother, two things had been determined. The first was that her power was extremely dangerous to everyone around her. The second was that she would also suffer the cost of its usage.
Perhaps it was fitting. All magic came at a price. If a kingdom toppled, so should she.
She began to relax onto the ground when a bolt of lightning shot through her. Her mouth dropped open in panic as she grabbed for Ceneth’s arm.
“The rings!” She gasped at their oversight. She’d meant to swipe them from the bishop and his attendants, but she’dsuccumbed to her secondary power before she’d had the chance. The rings had been the pivotal piece of information that had swayed Ophir’s decision. The manufactured objects were far too dangerous to remain in the world.
“I grabbed them,” Galena said. “The moment you fell and dropped your frenzy, I dove for the box as Ceneth rushed for you.”
Relief washed over her.
“I’m so glad you’re with us now, child. I was worried we’d lost you. Now, give me the rings.”
The fae tucked her wings behind her back. Her body was present, but her mind still appeared absent, fighting her demons just like the fae who’d seen war and couldn’t leave the battle on the field. Eyes glazed, she began to hand Zita the box, then hesitated.
Ceneth nodded his approval, and the fae woman gave Zita the rings.
She would have been offended, but Galena was not her subject and had no fealty to her.
Zita took the box and allowed relief to soothe her, massaging the tension from her muscles and easing her worry as the final key to Farehold’s manipulative power was securely in her hands. She popped the box open…and frowned. Zita looked up at Ceneth, who matched her expression.
“This isn’t right.”
“What is it?” Galena asked.
Zita shook her head slowly, denial joining her exhaustion as the miserable sickness threatened to pull her under.
It was Ceneth who spoke, his whisper joining the rustling of branches around him as he said, “This isn’t right. These aren’t the rings.”
Thirty-Eight
Two Hours and Fifteen Minutes After the Wedding
The Frozen Straits
It was tits to asses in the galley, but if Dwyn threw the right combination of glares and elbows, she would get back to the ship’s belly without a man touching her. She bared her teeth, hissing at the only sailor who dared to make direct eye contact as she shoved into the main interior.
“Firi, the food—”
Dwyn’s grip around the plate went slack. The meal she’d sourced from the galley was little more than brown rolls and a cut of warm ham. She’d prepared a grumbling speech about how if they were already denied sweets and vegetables on the first day of their voyage, it was going to be a terribly uncomfortable crossing. Now, she frowned as she looked up and down the belly of the ship, scanning the arctic sailors who were too busy to be bothered by her presence. A few of them cast her curious glances, but they weren’t foolish enough to speak disrespectfully to the princess’s companion.
“You there,” she said to a passing sailor. He swallowed audibly as he skidded to a stop. “Did you see where the princess went?”
He blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry, m’lady. I would assume she’s in her quarters.”
