Page 18 of A Kingdom of Frost and Malice

“Ye think I didn’t notice your markings?”

My heart stuttered as I stared down at the snow, packed tight from footsteps. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Where they took yer blood.”

I stiffened. Bloodletters, vampires of inferior status, drew blood from slaves by needle. It was one of the few inventions that King Vladistrica had borrowed from the human world. Even with my fae healing abilities, over time, a letter’s needle left marks. Small scars lined my forearms and the backs of my hands. I’d been so careful about my wings, but these scars? I hardly ever noticed them now.

I also wondered how Frode had recognized them for what they were, though? Surely, this fae had never been to the Blood Court.

“I can explain.”

“To the warden, ye can.” Frode entered the castle through a servant’s entrance. “I donno how you did it, but all ye told me was lies, and I won’t listen any longer.”

The backstabber! I gave him an awkward kick in the stomach, to which he only laughed.

“Lass, I’m as Winterborn and bred as they come. Try as you might, ye won’t harm me.”

I took that to mean that he was tougher than he looked, which was quite tough indeed. After a few more kicks and punches to his back, which earned only more chuckles and shakes of his head, I decided to save my energy for when I could run.

Aside from being strong, Frode also seemed to know his way around the warden’s castle, for the fae stomped down the corridors without asking for directions. Finally, though, he stopped walking. “I’m here to see Warden Lisika.”

“Your business?” a sharp female voice asked.

Frode’s shoulders tightened. “What’s it to ye? These are the hours that he hears his people’s concerns.”

The guard sighed. “You’re not on the list, Frode.”

“Bugger yer list! I found an escaped blood slave!”

A pause echoed in my ears before the guard asked, “a new one?”

New one? What did it matter if I was old or new?

“Judgin’ by the markings, she’s been there a while.”

A quill scratched paper, and a door creaked open. “Very well, you may see him but only because he’s free now. Next time, get on the list.”

Frode grumbled beneath his breath about where she could stick her list and took a few lumbering steps into a room. Immediately, I noticed that the echo of his steps became louder, so I twisted as best I could and looked up.

Above me, gilded buttresses joined in the center of a soaring ceiling. To the sides of the crimson double doors, two large golden leopards leapt toward the middle of the room at the person daring to walk down the aisle to speak with their lord.

I swallowed. This castle might not be as intimidating or dark as Palais Immortael, but something told me the Warden of the West was not a fae to mess with.

“My good fae, Frode, what brings you in today?” A male voice, smooth and deep, rang through me.

“Found this faerie on the side of the road leadin’ into Guldtown, my lord. She was wet, had no cloak, and has markings all over her arms, clearly an escaped blood slave, my lord.” Frode yanked me forward by the legs. My hands went back to break my fall as he dumped me on the hard ground.

I groaned, rubbing my rear, trying to erase the shooting pains radiating from it.

“She lied about where she came from, though,” Frode added. “Not sure how.”

“The Blood use witchcraft to dim the powers of their slaves who possess magic,” the lord said with certainty. “They gave you a potion, girl?”

“I’m no girl,” I spat back, twisting to take in the warden for the first time.

Copper-red hair flowed past his shoulders, and the bright hue made his emerald-green eyes pop. He was pale, with not a single mark on his skin, and even though he sat, I could tell he was tall and well-muscled. Though his tunic was red, a color I would have thought would not go with his hair, it suited him. Just as he seemed to have been born sprawling in the gold throne he lounged upon.

The warden’s wings were his only imperfect features. They curled backward and were shorter than they should have been. Unfortunate. The golden color was exquisite.

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