Page 144 of Frost and Death
With my slippers free, I turn to Jerrick in appreciation, wiping the sides of my gown and eying the market. A soft brush of his hand has me reaching to interlock it, earning a small chuckle.
“Nervous there, Frostbite?” he teases as we walk toward the busy streets.
I shrink inwardly, not wishing to draw any more attention, especially when I already was on the brink of a breakdown before arriving.
We make our break into the sunlit street. The cobblestones are smooth and different from some of the villages in Axidoria.
But as we walk down the street where more townspeople stop and greet us, I remain tense and alert, bracing for the whispers and the scorn when others think I am out of earshot.
Through it all, Jerrick’s hand remains fastened to mine, squeezing as we pass each person.
We stroll through the vendors and merchants, and I remain silent, waiting for Jerrick to approach and interact with each vendor helping with the upcoming masquerade ball.
I introduce myself and greet the people of Palaena as I would my own, understanding they probably know of the marriage by now, although I do not wish to feed them gossip regarding the events surrounding it. However, I am shocked that many I have conversed with are kind and responsive.
Jerrick addresses everyone with a quiet stoicism while still showing gratitude. And each person we speak with is engaged, lively, and excited to be talking to us.
Our conversations ease the tension in my jaw and shoulders. I even smile brighter with each person, hopeful somehow that my Snow Queen nickname and the cursed winter will not ruin their lives, too.
But my luck runs out when we approach an elderly merchant, a vendor with baskets full of crafted metals which might decorate the ballroom in the castle.
The hunched-over man is sun kissed with grayed hair. He is finalizing a trade when his brown eyes catch mine, recognition hardening his expression.
Fear locks up my spine as his gaze shifts into pure hatred. As much as I want to shy away, I brace myself for an unhappy resident of Palaena.
The man spits at my feet, disgusted, before Jerrick or I can even greet him. “I know who you are,Snow Queen.”
I bristle at the nickname, my failures evident and exposed amongst the hushed silence transitioning throughout the market.
Eyes all around us burn into me, the back of my skull, drawing my magic forth. I have a death grip on Jerrick’s hand now, hoping he can sense my power awakening.
“Have you so tired of freezing your kingdom you sought to come here and ruin our lives as well?” the merchant challenges.
The glimmer of hope for these people seeing beyond my powers dies with his question.
Unsure of the customs, the dynamic of the people, I don’t know how to act. I am too petrified and caught off guard to do or say anything, terrified my magic could come out to play and hurt others. I remain silent and try to meditate away my powers, but the decision whether to let him finish his insults or react strains my concentration.
I cannot show frost and snow manifesting on my skin. It’ll only prove his accusations true.
Lips graze my cheek, a crackling jolt of heat descending from my face straight to my core.
It seeps over the winter threatening to climb up my chest, guiding my breathing into a steady calm.
I glance at Jerrick to extend my gratitude for the distraction, but his menacing glare is focused on the elderly merchant.
“That is my wife you spit at,” Jerrick says darkly, stalking toward the man till they are almost chest to chest.
The merchant steels his stance, a muscle ticking in his jaw, but it is nothing compared to Jerrick’s tall frame hovering over him.
“The Snow Queen will ruin us.” The merchant points at me. “Everyone should stay away from her. She is a merciless temptress! Fooling even you, Your Majesty, with her wretchedness!”
The villagers watch in silence, and the unfolding scene cracks my heart open, the joy of thriving snuffed away from the entire square.
All because of me.
I never thought hearing it spoken would hurt so much. Maybe it was because it was coming from a stranger and not my own people.
But when the man opens his mouth again, Jerrick grabs him. “You knownothingof that which you speak. You will apologize to My Queen this instant.”
