Page 73 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

15

The Woods

Strange dream. No deaths, blood, or any sinister creature, and it only increased Leah’s dread at what new horror she was about to face. She was in a green meadow by a river. Everything too green, too bright, too pretty. And no sign of her dragon in the sky. Agonizing absence.

She then heard a voice behind her, a girl, asking, “But why?”

Leah turned and thought she knew the speaker, and yet she couldn’t remember from where. She was with a young man she also knew, and yet somehow they didn’t fit anywhere in her memory.

They were sitting on the grass and he held her hand. “Serine, please. There are bigger things at play: politics, family. I’d rather not involve you in any of that.”

She looked down, but didn’t pull her hand. “With you it’s promises and promises. All idle words.”

He kissed her cheek. “What about this?” She had a small smile, but still looked displeased. He caressed her hair. “And I love you.”

“Words again.” She laughed bitterly.

“But I do. Still, love and marriage are not the same. Love is love, it’s us together. Marriage, when you’re a prince, it’s about power. It’s something else.”

“You said you’d marry me.”

“Maybe. One day. I don’t know. Not now. It can’t be now.”

She plucked some grass from the ground, then looked at him. “I’m not going to be your other woman, I won’t.”

“You’ll always be the only one. Can you trust me?” The girl looked down. He kissed her neck and asked again, this time in a whisper, “Can you trust me?”

Leah thought the girl would push him away, but instead she kissed him back, as if a kiss could quiet her fears, quench her worries, as if she kissed him long enough he would marry her. But then perhaps it was just that she wanted this moment, she wanted him.

The couple was now lying on the grass, his hands trailing down her body, then lifting her skirt. Would that count as “ruining” a woman? But Fel had told her the clothes had to come off. If he had been saying the truth.

Leah couldn’t look away, even if she knew she should, even if she knew it was an intimate moment, not for her eyes. Was this what happened when a marriage was consummated? But they were not married. And yet here they were, his hands caressing her legs, moving up, up. Leah swallowed as she realized that some of the girl’s clothes—and his—were now coming off. And yet she didn’t deem it scandalous or immoral. Instead, she wondered what it would be like to feel it, to be this close to someone, not for duty, not as part of a marriage. She wondered what it would be like to be that close to Isofel. Had she let him stay in her bedroom that night, had she been ruined, perhaps she wouldn’t be married now.

Married. The truth hit her like a rock—and then she recognized the young man—and the girl. He was Venard, and Serine was the girl he’d murdered. Heavy clouds appeared in the sky, and the scene changed. The girl was no longer living, but a corpse, pale and slightly bluish, her face purple.

Leah finally had to turn away. She didn’t even have time to catch her breath when Serine, or rather, her corpse, appeared in front of her.

“You. You killed me.” She wrapped her cold hands around Leah’s neck.

Leah wanted to scream, yell, knew this wasn’t real and yet couldn’t stop it. But she would suffocate if she remained there. She had to wake up. Wake up, wake up. If only she could explain to the girl, explain none of this was her fault, explain that this was a horrible mistake, a horrible situation, and if anything, they were both victims. No. Not victim. Leah wanted to be a survivor, wanted to see the Ironholds pay for that.

Hatred did it. Leah woke up, her own hands around her throat. She’d been strangling herself? It didn’t make sense. Her father had always told her that the dead could not harm the living, and that dreams couldn’t harm her.

She got up, adjusting her eyes to the light coming from the window and the extreme pinkness of the room. There was a full-body mirror on a wall, and she stared at herself. Her neck was already bruising. It had been real. Horrifyingly real. And this: this room, this life, was real too.

The first feeling that overwhelmed her was hunger. Incredible. Her life was falling apart, and here her stomach wanted something so basic, so normal. But she was starving. They hadn’t given her anything to eat, and Venard had left right after that fake beating that had been humiliating nonetheless. Were they planning on starving her? No. She knew the answer. Getting food would likely involve more humiliation.

Why had this happened? Her mother had told her it would be fine. Even her father had approved this. He’d been friends with King Harold. Hadn’t he noticed anything strange about the Ironhold family? Couldn’t he have investigated them some more?

Leah had trusted her parents, trusted their advice. For what? She sighed. Getting upset at her family wasn’t going to solve her problem. They likely had no idea about what was happening, and could not have predicted that the Ironholds would be sadistic monsters. If they had known, things would have been different.

That was what Leah had to do: tell her parents. But how? She was pretty sure that every step she took was being watched. Well, not really. She was alone now. And had to use her opportunity.

* * *

Naia was alonein her bed, unsure for how long she had slept, unsure even how she had gotten here. Her bed. That was an interesting way to call this bed in this strange house. Perhaps it meant she was ready to accept she belonged here.

Her first thought was to call River, but that would make him feel too important. She got up and went down the stairs, where she found food set on the table. Again there was bread, cakes, juice—but no River. The upside was that she wasn’t going to starve. The downside? She felt like a pet. Yes, Naia was hungry. But she was hungry for explanations, for information, which she hadn’t gotten much.

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