Page 23 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

5

Music and Magic

That was definitely River. Naia would never forget his sharp eyes or his jaw with those delicate lips. And here he was talking to one of the Ironhold princes. Unless she was seeing things. She closed her eyes and looked again. Same hair, same face, except that he had no horns, and she couldn’t see the shape of his ears.

Naia decided to walk to where Fel was dancing, just so she could get closer to the Ironholds. Her eyes—or mind—could be playing tricks on her. As she passed them, her eyes met River’s, which were normal brown, not reddish brown like before. And they didn’t show a hint of recognition.

She almost bumped into Fel, who held her shoulders. “Where were you going?”

Her mind was elsewhere, wondering if that was really River and if he’d forgotten her. If it was him, it meant he was alive, it meant she had never caused anyone’s death. But then, what was he doing there? With the Ironholds, of all people?

Fel was staring at her, expecting a reply, so she mumbled, “Uh. Circulating. We should circulate in a ball, right?”

Her brother glanced at their father and chuckled. “I think you’re supposed to sit in a corner and mope.” Then he got serious. “I know it’s not funny.”

Naia was having trouble getting her thoughts together. “It’s tragic, I suppose.” She then noticed the glint in her brother’s eyes. “At least one of us is happy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say so?” Naia thought he was going to deny the obvious, but then a huge smile appeared on his face. “Don’t say it. Perhaps I am happy, so let me be and not worry or wonder.”

“Then don’t worry.” Naia was happy for her brother, but her mind was still worried about what she’d seen. She glanced at the Ironholds, and again saw River talking to one of the princes.

Fel must have noticed where she was looking, as he asked, “Wishing to say ‘hi’ to our cousins?”

“Sure. They look so friendly.” She sighed, then whispered, “But I do wish our uncle would talk to us, tell us a little about our mother.” And also about who was in their entourage.

“Our father would be furious if we tried to speak with him.”

“I know. I’m not planning to. I just wish.”

And also wished so much more, most of it knowing whether that was really River. So many questions. But it just didn’t make sense for him to be with the Ironhold family. She doubted a fae could even step into their kingdom, as there was iron everywhere. Even their palace was supposed to have metal walls.

Perhaps it was just someone who looked like River—exactly like him, but human. Nothing made sense. The only way for her to figure out anything would be by trying to speak to him, but she had no idea how to do that, as she wasn’t allowed to initiate communication without being introduced first. She could try to break the rules, but not in front of the Ironholds. She’d need to be discreet. Right, with two huge purple sleeves.

As she and her twin walked back to their table, Fel said, “I’m glad you’re in the moping spirit of the celebration.”

“I hate my dress.”

“You look so beautiful, Naia, don’t say that. True that it does seem a little uncomfortable.”

“Very.”

Everything was strange and uncomfortable about this ball, this place, and seeing River. Human-looking River who glanced in her direction and yet didn’t seem to recognize her—or even see her. Perhaps there was something wrong with her mind.

They sat at the table with their father. She tried to find River again, and saw him leaving the ballroom. For a second, she almost ran after him, but that would be inappropriate—and pathetic. She wished she knew if it was really him and what he was doing there. Perhaps he’d come back.

Naia took the chance to observe the other people at the ball. The advisor who had taken them skating sat by the Frostlake king—Leah’s father. His face had scars, as if an animal had clawed him, and he looked a lot older than most kings. His skin was fair and he had light blue eyes, lighter than his daughter’s. That was the necromancer king—who had spoken to Naia’s dead mother. Perhaps eventually she could ask Leah if she could talk to him. But the Frostlake princess was no longer in the room, and now the orchestra stopped playing.

This probably meant that the introduction was about to happen. Naia still sort of wished she could go up there and show her fire, but her consolation was the idea that her magic had to be hidden because it was so amazing. That was what she told herself. That was what she hoped her father thought.

Her father, who sat as if this was the last place he’d like to be. She wondered why he didn’t use his deathbringer magic and disappear. In fact, he almost never used his magic, claiming it was too dangerous. As she watched him, she noticed that he drew a sharp breath and widened his eyes, looking at something as if it were a ghost. Naia followed his gaze and found just the stage. A young woman directed servants to bring a chair and a table. Not any woman. She was wearing a silver tiara contrasting to curly dark hair. With that tiara, and organizing the introduction, that had to be the Frostlake queen, even if she seemed a little young to be Leah’s mother.

The woman looked in their direction and her expression hardened. There was loathing there—and perhaps even disgust. She truly hated her father, and wasn’t pretending he didn’t exist, like the Ironholds or other families. But a second later, she turned around, her face serene again.

Naia’s father got up.

“Dad?” Naia asked.

“I’m going outside.”

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