Page 9 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

“You’re sure I shouldn’t display my magic?” Naia asked. She knew the answer, but all she wanted was to get her father’s attention away from her brother.

It worked, as her father turned to her and sighed. “How many times have I explained it? First, you’re not looking for a husband. Second, I won’t have my daughter on display like cattle.”

She looked away. Cattle, what an exaggeration. To be honest, she wouldn’t mind showing off, wouldn’t mind impressing everyone with her own, unique talent: fire magic—like nobody else in the kingdom.

It had started about a year before, but she’d been practicing it as much as she could. She was sure it was a manifestation of her deathbringer magic, which was powerful and complex, and still not completely understood. Her father’s magic, and he should be proud that at least one of his children had it, but no. Every time she showed any fire magic, it was as if she’d grown a second head or something. She had wondered if maybe… She had asked and read about fae magic, and never found anything associating them with fire, so she couldn’t have gotten it from River. It was deathbringer magic, she was sure of it, even if this specific manifestation was unheard of.

And she wouldn’t mind astonishing a bunch of condescending royals. Naia lit a flame on the palm of her hand. “I bet my fire would make quite an impression.”

Her father frowned. “Stop it. Do you want to burn down the carriage?”

Naia did quench her flame, even if it was unfair. Fel had been playing with his hands a good chunk of the way, and had gotten no scolding.

Her father then added, “Don’t give anyone an excuse to start whispers, to wonder why you have that magic.”

“It’s deathbringer magic, dad. What else could it be?”

“Irinaia. Don’t. Hide your power, especially something so exceptional.” At least he had a positive word about her magic. “It’s strategy; never show your full potential to your enemies. If you do want to be part of the young ladies’ introduction, use some mild ironbringing, but I would rather you didn’t participate in it, lest anyone think you’re looking for a husband.”

Naia looked down. It had been just a silly idea, but still, her father’s words bothered her.

Fel then asked, “And what if Naia wanted a husband?” He wasn’t mocking, but rather curious, voicing a question she hadn’t dared ask.

Her heart sped up as her father turned to him. “Why would she, if she doesn’t have to?” He chuckled, his expression amused, as if hearing the most ridiculous idea ever, then asked her, “Do you want to get married?”

The question surprised her. “I… I don’t know.” She had no idea if she’d find someone. All she knew was that she definitely didn’t want to watch her brother become king while she remained cast aside, watching, as a mere advisor, without a life of her own, but she didn’t want to say that because it sounded as if she envied Fel, and it wasn’t really that.

Her father waved a hand. “Nonsense. You’ll help your brother, make sure Umbraar is in good hands. That way you can be free, a master of your own destiny. You can be much more than a wife. I raised you two equally, so that you wouldn’t succumb to feminine fancies and vanity.”

Her father always insisted that she and Fel were equal. But they weren’t, were they? He was going to inherit the throne, not her. Naia looked down, as she never knew what to say, and didn’t want to sound as if she didn’t wish the best for her brother.

Her father seemed satisfied, and turned back to Fel. “And you, sir, next year you’ll find a wife: a healthy, honest commoner from Umbraar.”

Fel smirked. “How are you going to choose? Line them up, measure them, and examine their teeth?”

“How else would you have it?” He matched his son’s smirk. “Pick the one who best pretends to fall in love with you?”

Naia’s twin looked out the window. “Obviously not. Who’s gonna love a cripple?”

“Fel!” she protested. “Who wouldn’t love you?”

He looked at her, his green eyes definitely looking like cold, hard gems.

“Stop saying that word,” her father told Fel. “You’re perfect. But romantic love is a silly illusion.”

Her brother cocked his head, staring straight into his father’s eyes. “Is it that you regret eloping with our mother?”

Oh, no. Fel was stepping into forbidden territory.

Her father stared at him for a few seconds, then, in a slow, threatening voice, said, “I have no regrets, but I don’t want another word about it.”

Naia looked at her brother, pleading with her eyes for him to remain silent. Fel exhaled, bit his lip, then looked out the window. Talk of their mother was absolutely forbidden in their family. Perhaps it caused their father a lot of pain. He still wore the two interconnected wedding rings, and had vowed never to marry again. But it was odd to have only emptiness and silence where her mother’s memory should be. So much emptiness.

Naia looked outside and noticed that they were approaching the Frostlake castle. It was all white, with tall spires. Weird. She’d rather imagined that the castle of the necromancer king would be black with huge skulls or something. But then, even the kingdom’s name didn’t allude to their magic, and the white looked like frost. Frostlake, right? Not Necrokingdom, Deathland, Grimhold, or anything like that. Such a wasted opportunity.

The castle was beautiful. Being under the dome, it had no snow or ice around it, but its whiteness felt like it brought some of that dreamy white landscape to the heart of the kingdom, into that beautiful, majestic building.

Her father always said that a castle was pointless ostentation and a big target for their enemies, but it was also an imposing symbol of power, which Naia found fascinating. This would be her first time in a real castle, her first time wearing a fine dress, her first time attending a ball. So many firsts. And yet the first that mattered most had been in the past; her first kiss. A part of her feared it would be her last. For now, all she wanted was to understand what had happened, and maybe… She even feared to think it, afraid of wanting too much, but maybe there was a chance she’d meet River again. Not in Frostlake, of course. How would a fae reach a city surrounded by a metal dome?

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