Page 87 of A Court of Fire and Frost

My mother, shifting in front of the entire court and devouring a Were whole for stealing food from the kitchens to feed his children. In her eyes, he was selfish instead of a community member.

A whip of ice whistles in the air as cold air kisses my back. Agony ripples through my body as hundreds of eyes watch on in silence.

Bright red blood coats the throne room's floor as servants drag out the bodies of dead Faerie she considered a spy.

And… A funeral where tears were not permitted. Saying goodbye to my father.

I take a deep breath, leaning against the rough trunk of a large evergreen tree as I adjust my clothing and calm myself down. The smell of sap and pines soothes my soul as I shove away the ghosts of my past.

You can do this, Elva.

The wind blows past me, carrying an icy blast as I stare at the palace built in the city's heart. It's still early in the morning, and most of the citizens of Ice City are still in their beds. I can see the telltale helmets of the White Legion marching past as they patrol the streets, enforcing the strict curfew my mother has placed over her citizens.

I know from experience that members of the White Legion–guards, as she calls them–all carry two swords, one on their backs and another at their sides, along with various weapons hidden on their bodies. I’d spent enough time away from here that they acted less like protectors of the peace and more like sanctioned criminals.

Usually, I would avoid them at any cost. Not today. I pull the hood of my coat down low enough to cover my eyes.

The street is mostly empty today, meaning it is one of the cleansing days when everyone must stay inside while the ice shamans work. There must have been a visit from another species because Winter Fae do not allow other species to coexist in the same city walls. Down the street, I spot a tall, bulky Fae with long black hair and the insignia of the White Legion stitched across his chest. He looks about thirty, but he could be three thousand years old for all I know. I quickly look away from his dark grey eyes so he can’t see my face.

He arches one eyebrow. "Can I help you?" he growls at me, his gaze predatory as he sweeps his eyes over me. It takes everything in my body to remain still and not castrate him where he stands.

"You can take me to see the Queen," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the nerves flying through my body.

He arches a black brow and studies me. "What business do you have with Queen Ophelia?”

This is it."I’ve come to tell the Queen her heir has returned." The words barely leave my mouth when his large hand clamps down on my wrist. I bite my tongue, trying to keep from crying out.

"What do you know of Princess Elva?" the guard hisses, his voice low as his fingernails dig into my arm.

"It is not," I say before summoning shards of ice to pelt the guard's hand. His grip loosens before he grabs onto his wrist with his other hand, whimpering.

He snarls, those eyes darkening despite the rising sun. But the force of my movements causes the hood to slide back. Shit, I didn’t want anyone to know who I was until I arrived. Those grey eyes go wide as he looks at my face.

He immediately drops to the ground. “My lady, you are alive.”

"Yes. Now, take me to my mother," I say, holding my head high. "Or the ice won't just be on your fingers." Clenching my jaw, my gaze drops pointedly to his crotch.

He scrambles to his feet "That won't be necessary. Right this way, please."

* * *

When my escortbrings me to the massive front doors of the palace, The Shamans have gone outside to chant to the gods, which signals to the people that the city is free from the negative energy brought by Were or Vampires, and it is time for Ice City to wake up. The sounds of life fill the air as we march down icy streets, but the city is devoid of color. Life in Ice City is not kind.

I worry that the visiting group may have been the Ice Mer. If they have come to see my mother, then everything will be worse. That's why I had to leave Nathaniel behind. This city will eat him up and spit him out.

We get to the gates, which swing as if on their own accord. Holding my head high, I march into the icy palace, the white walls rising above me as I stare straight ahead. The weight of dozens of eyes falls on my shoulders as I march through the palace, ignoring the whispers and gasps that ring through the air in the wake of my arrival.

"The Princess," someone says.

Then the bowing starts. I openly show my disgust as I keep my gaze locked ahead of me, knowing exactly where I'm going. I turn left, then right, seeing the massive portrait of my grandfather Mikael hanging at the end of the hallway in front of me. The artist's rendering is both fierce and lifelike. As a youngling, I always ran past the frame, unwilling to let my gaze connect with my grandfather’s.

He looks down at everyone who passes by, his ice-blue eyes firm as a scowl remains etched on his lips for eternity. His pointy ears stick above his white hair, a crown of white diamonds resting on his head. The artist painted him wearing nothing but a cloak of white leopard fur, his dark skin peeking out from beneath the cloak.

Just another member of my family who ruled with ice spikes and iron fist. He kept thousands of humans as slaves, allowing the Winter Court Fae to grow to the size it is now just before starting the Third Great War. My mother is a benevolent ruler in comparison.

My tutors told me he had roamed the Winter Court for nearly ten thousand years before deciding to submit to the Eternal Sleep. Now he rests, undisturbed, in the crypts below the palace.

Hurrying past the reminder of my grandfather, I put my hands on the door handle and breathe deeply.Here we go.Pushing with all my might, I fling the double doors open. There is no resistance, and they swing wide, revealing the grand stateroom before me.

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