Page 89 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

“What we leave behind lasts,” she said. “Our lineage, our legacy, things we do that are bigger than our lives.” Those were her father’s words, explaining to her and Fel what being a ruler entailed.

“We can hope it lasts. We don’t know if it does.” His chest rose and fell in a deep breath. “But this, this is real. For me, at least.”

“Despite all your secrets?”

He ran his hand through her hair. “They don’t belong to this moment. Don’t belong to us. Let me believe that we’re bigger than all that, that nothing can shake us, that this is forever. Let tomorrow worry about itself, take care of itself. Worrying now won’t change anything.”

Naia closed her eyes, taking in his scent, the feeling of being there. “I want this to last, River.” She couldn’t believe she was opening up that much.

“Then maybe we have a chance.”

Perhaps he was right that worrying wouldn’t change the future. She was going to check the woods tomorrow, she was going to find out whatever nefarious secret he was keeping. For now, she could enjoy his warmth, his presence, the close sound of his heart beating. For now, she could pretend this moment would last forever.

* * *

The ideaof being threatening amused Leah. If only it were true. But apparently Ironhold wasn’t sure about it, as they had six guards following her. Her request to visit a mortuary had been granted—quite quickly. Too quickly for her taste. Perhaps they wanted to test her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to attack anyone or do anything impressive. All she was after was some information, a clue, a lead, something… Her only magic was necromancy, so that was what she had to use.

They had walked through long corridors at the base of the castle, arriving to a room where two bodies were being prepared to be buried. Castle workers or guards, she wasn’t sure.

There wasn’t any smell of decay yet, but the scent of death lingered in the dark room. That smell didn’t bother her, instead it brought her memories of holding her father’s hand and learning about his magic, of trying to listen to the dead, seeing how he helped poor or rich, noble or servants, anyone who required his assistance. She missed her father, and couldn’t believe he had sent her here, had given her to these monsters. But he didn’t know. Her own thoughts defended him. No time for regrets or resentment. She looked at the two forms under white sheets.

“Who are they?” she asked the female soldier next to her.

“We’re not supposed to answer you.”

Leah could insist, but in truth it didn’t matter that much. Talk to me, she thought, directing it to the bodies. If you have something to say, talk to me. Nothing. Perhaps it had been foolish to think anyone would help her. The dead rarely had any business with the living.

And there was another problem: Leah wasn’t that great in necromancy. Sometimes she had lied to her father that she had heard the dead, when she hadn’t, just because he was always so satisfied when she performed any necromancy. Perhaps she’d wasted her chance to learn while she could. Still, she kept trying to ask, to plead, to see if any spirit, either of the people on the tables or anyone who’d been there could help her.

“Your highness.” A male soldier said. “Your time is over.”

Leah sighed. At least it had been worth trying. Then, right when they were walking out of the room, she heard a voice, and it wasn’t her imagination. “At night, child. In your dreams.”

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