Page 2 of Midwinter Wiles & Valerian Dreams
Beron waits, stone-faced.
“Wait, why are you taking commands from Her Royal Meanness at this hour? Oh no, my sweet Beron, was someone being naughty last night? Did you finally make a move and end up in her bedchambers?”
“Less talking, more moving.”
“Let me guess; she was ice cold.” I flex my hands to conjure ice crystals over my fingertips.
Beron pushes my shoulder toward the door. I don’t even have proper shoes!
We both know Beron’s legendary loyalty to my father—even beyond the grave—means he would never make a pass at Queen Taynia. But normally he plays along with my teasing. Once last year, I even got him to crack a smile. My proudest day!
Today, he’s made of ice. Just like our world.
As he steers me through the quiet corridors in silence, the back of my neck prickles. “You’re being very gruff, even for you.” I peer up at him. “You’re not letting Taynia rub off on you, are you? All that brooding and glowering?”
He just grunts, eyes fixed ahead. His hair is almost black in the early gloom as he ushers us inexorably onward, never looking my way. My stomach sinks.
Beron always looks at me, even when I’m pushing his buttons. He never treated me like a child growing up, and he never ignores me the way Taynia does now. But his jaw is set while he stares straight ahead.
Something’s wrong.
I stop, crossing my arms. “What’s going on, Beron? You’ve got that look.”
“The only look I’ve got right now says, ‘Keep moving, princess.’” He doesn’t miss a beat as he shoves me toward the door.
Outside, the formal carriage waits. Reindeer stamp against the frozen ground, steam curling from their nostrils in the half-light. A dusting of snow across their backs blends with their dazzling white fur. The morning air bites.
Dark sky stretches overhead, barely a hint of dawn on the horizon. Lumi, my moon companion (and basically my only friend), glows softly as she floats by. She pauses just long enough to reassure me she’ll be following from above, illuminating shades of dark plum in Beron’s duskwine hair as she passes.
I shiver, pulling the cloak tighter around me as Beron boosts me over the sled runners and practically deposits me inside the carriage. I scramble up onto the lush velvet bench seat.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
He doesn’t answer, just clambers in behind me and shuts the door with a firm click. “Sit tight.”
“Wait. Taynia is not coming? Just me?”
Beron nods a curt affirmation.
Not ominous at all.
It makes no sense. If the queen’s not coming, then why are we traveling in thefancyroyal carriage with the queen’s prized reindeer out front? They’re the ones with silver-tipped antlers she only trots out for official outings.
The road to the summer palace is long, through wild lands where threats lurk in every shadow. It’s lawless, dangerous territory full of Wilder Fae. This carriage might as well have a beacon mounted on its roof that flashesOy, please rob us. But Beron is here, and Beron wouldn’t let anything bad happen.
…Right?
As the carriage lurches into motion, unease coils in my stomach, gnawing with each swish of the skis over snow. Myjaw clenches, causing the high points of my ears to push higher through my hair. I grab a white lock to twirl anxiously between my fingers, watching the iridescence shimmer. Blues and golds reflected from the carriage interior dance across the strands.
For a long time, I focus on the contrast of my dark fingers and light hair, tilting it to-and-fro to make the colours shift. I must look like a pampered princess, distracted by beauty, but my mind races.
The prickling awareness on my skin continues as the city passes by the frosty windows.
Nothing makes sense.
Why did we leave so early? Why Beron and his huntsmen instead of regular palace guards? Why the royal carriage, all gilded and ostentatious?
I cast a sidelong look at Beron. “Are you sure we’re going to the summer palace?”
