Frost Bound (Entangled with Trickery #1)

Dahlia

Chapter Six

Dahlia

The trek to the palace was a somber affair. Well, it was on her side.

The bloody Giver hadn’t stopped spouting off random facts as they passed through the city. He’d even had the audacity to loop her arm through his like they were lovers out on a morning stroll. In a swirl of dread and fear, Dahlia had allowed it, not daring to prod the temperamental snake. She needed to keep her head. Cosmos’ life depended on it.

The slums gave way to family homes and then the markets. The circular maze-like cobbled streets looped over each other, gradually getting wider. Fancy inns and restaurants bracketed the road, all bustling with well-dressed workers off to do their masters’ bidding.

She tried not to stare too hard at the massive homes that held highborn men and women. Lia had only ever come this far into the capital city of Astera once—and it was at night. The architecture was stunning, almost enough to distract her from the task at hand.

Almost.

All too soon, the palace loomed before them, the soaring outer wall jutting from the ground like bleached white bone. Lush green vines hung over the edge of the wall, softening it a touch. She had the feeling that once she entered the walls of the royal palace, she’d forever be trapped in games she had no business playing.

Adder noticed her attention on the plants. “Did you know the plants are flesh eaters and poisonous?”

She blinked slowly. A drunk soldier had once told her as much, but Lia had never put any stock into it. She squinted at the top of the wall once again, noticing a few soldiers.

“How do they not get sick?” she mused to herself.

“Immunity. The crown puts them through a rigorous set of … well, let’s call them tests to make sure they’re fit.”

A shiver of foreboding swirled in her belly.

Torture. He meant torture.

Lia held her breath as they crossed the drawbridge, her gaze straying to the lotus flowers in the moat, and pausing on the golden eyes that glittered from the murky water below.

The Giver leaned down to whisper in her ear: “Did you know those beasties survive on live human flesh?”

Her stomach churned. “Live?”

He patted her hand. “Don’t feel sad, sweet flower. They were traitors. They deserved it.”

Her knees wobbled beneath her skirt, and it was all she could do not to tear her arm from Adder’s and run. She took slow, steady breaths as they entered the bailey. It bustled with servants, farm workers, and castellans. The air held the scent of iron, fresh bread, the stables, and exotic flowers.

It was almost enough to make her want to throw up.

A nondescript man approached them and exchanged words with Jekket ahead of them. The half-giant nodded to the Giver. They changed their direction, and instead of going through the gatehouse, they veered toward the brewery. No one spared them a glance as they entered the small, warm building smelling of hops.

“Where are we going?” she braved to ask, as they wove through copper stills.

“You’ll see soon enough.” Adder tightened his grip on her hand, his touch a bit too rough. She winced and nodded to the man they’d been following when he opened a plain wooden door, revealing a wide stone corridor. It looked like a gaping mouth ready to gobble them up. Her skin prickled as they walked into the enclosed space. Their party was silent, and time seemed to stretch out with each clack of their heeled boots against the marble floor.

Her pulse leapt when another simple door appeared at the end of the long hallway. Jekket opened it, and the Giver halted for a moment, his black gaze wandering over her face. “Be silent unless spoken to, and make sure you think before you speak. You’re smart, Dahlia. Don’t do something stupid that will get your brother—or yourself—killed, or I’ll be very put out.”

“Just what are we walking into?” she whispered.

“Victory, my flower. Sweet victory.”

That didn’t bode well.

Words fled her as they stepped through the door and moved through a curtain of lush ivy.

Pure opulence surrounded her.

She gaped open-mouthed as she took in the grand splendor of what appeared to be a solarium. White marble columns with copper streaks carved like trees stretched toward the arched ceiling that was studded with gold stars. Two mirror fountains ran down opposite walls and collected into crystal clear pools with pale sand bottoms and colorful fish. The air was scented with the lilies that grew in bright clusters around the room. Chaise lounges littered the solarium in intimate corners, like a warm invitation.

“Close your mouth, Lia. We don’t want our hosts to think us simpletons,” Adder commented, his tone teasing.

She snapped her mouth closed with a blush. “I didn’t think we were coming inside the actual palace.” How’d he even manage to get inside? Her gaze strayed to the door they had passed through, now hidden behind a wall of ivy. “I shouldn’t be here,” she muttered.

“Hush, and do compose yourself.” He released her arm, and she felt a thread of panic. What was he doing? “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

A footman peeled away from the door and nodded to them. He pressed on a vein of copper on the wall, and it slid to the side, revealing another secret doorway at the end of the room. Adder sauntered through the solarium like he owned the place and slipped through the doorway. She hustled after him, not willing to be left alone. She frowned and slowed next to the fountain as she spotted a serpent the color of blood coiled up at the edge of the water. It struck one of the fish and slithered away with its prey.

Godsteeth, Lia hoped she wasn’t the fish in this situation.

“Hurry up,” Jekket growled behind her. His hand brushed along the curve of her hips, making her jaw clench. He’d always been too touchy, with a violent temper on the side.

She brushed off his hand and slipped into another dark corridor, but this one led to a spiral staircase. Dahlia trudged up behind the Giver, her gaze latching on to his right hand. His fingers clenched into a fist, and then released over and over as they ascended the staircase.

A nervous tic. That didn’t bode well.

She studied Adder from the back. Lia had visited him every week for over a year to pay off their debt. Never once had she seen him this formally dressed. Every inch of him was covered from neck to boot. She frowned. It was as if he was trying to hide his lineage—which was odd considering it was part of the reason he had such a fearsome reputation. Everyone knew Loriians were monsters, and Adder played it up.

Her thighs burned as they climbed four stories of stairs. They reached a platform where an older man awaited them, dressed in so much white lace it made his red face look like a tomato set on a doily.

“Basil,” Adder commented.

“Giver,” Basil replied with a short bow, one the Giver did not return. “They are ready for you.” The man’s keen eyes swept her from head to toe. “I see you have brought them a gift.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened. They’d better not be talking about her.

“I have.”

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

Basil tsk ed. “Let’s hope it is enough.” He opened yet another plain door and swept inside. “Your Majesties, may I present the Giver.”

Dahlia gasped, and Adder shot her a frown before stepping out of sight. Jekket nudged her forward, and she pressed backward, not wanting to move. Why would he bring her before the monarchs? What could they want from her?

He was going to get her killed.

“Move it, or I will drag you in there myself,” Jekket growled, his hot breath washing over her.

On wooden legs, Lia stepped into the room, keeping her eyes on the floor. She’d heard of people being executed for less. Her mind conjured up the image of the creatures in the moat. That would not be her fate today.

Carefully, she shuffled farther into the room, studying her surroundings from the corner of her eye. A blush tinged her cheeks as she spotted the provocative paddles and strangling contraptions along the walls. She’d glimpsed some of the devices at the Giver’s brothel before.

He’d brought her to the royals’ pleasure room.

“Kneel,” the guard behind her hissed.

Lia dropped to her knees, attempting to make herself the smallest she could. Maybe if she held still, she could blend in with the floor.

Stop gawking, breathe, and listen.

“What a delight it is to see you again, Allium,” the Giver purred to Lia’s left.

Dahlia’s eyes rounded as she stared at the plush colorful rug depicting writhing bodies. It was racy to be sure, but Adder had used the queen’s first name. No one did that and lived. The queen’s last lover had been strung up outside the palace walls for calling out her name just once, or so the stories had gone.

He was going to get her killed before she could save her brother.

“It’s Your Highness to you,” the queen snapped.

Lia winced, and bowed lower, her neck aching with the movement.

The king chuckled, the sound grating on her already raw nerves. “Come now, darling, don’t be so hard on my son.”

My son.

The words rang in her ears, even as her jaw dropped. Had she heard that right?

“He may be your son, but he is not mine,” the queen hissed.

Sweet stars, Adder was one of the king’s many bastards.

Lia’s mind spun.

No wonder he’d never been arrested or executed for his many crimes. Bloody curses, the royals could have given him the slums. Just what was she tangled up in?

Nothing good, that was for sure.

“Come now,” the Giver cajoled. “You know I view you as the mother I never had.”

Dahlia schooled her expression and tried to blend into the floor. There was definitely too much sarcasm in his tone.

“I tire of this trivial conversation,” the king drawled. “He’s only here for one reason. Have you managed to procure what we asked for?”

“I believe I have, Your Highness. Has Basil apprised you of the situation?”

“He has,” the king replied. “Bring her to us. I’d like to get a good look at the creature.”

The Giver’s boots entered Dahlia’s vision. “Time to shine, my flower.”

He took her trembling hand, and she stood, still keeping her gaze on the ground, loose hair falling along her cheeks. Adder guided Lia forward until she could just make out the edge of a rose-colored gown shot through with gold to her right, and shiny black boots with sparkly gold buckles to her left.

“She’s well trained, I’ll give you that much,” the queen commented begrudgingly. “The mousy little thing hasn’t lifted her gaze from the floor since she entered the room.”

“Only the best for my lady stepmother.”

“Not on your life, mongrel.”

“Enough!” the king’s voice cut, sharp as a knife. Dahlia flinched, and the Giver’s fingers tightened painfully around hers for a moment. A warning. “I can barely hear my own thoughts listening to you two bicker. Let me get a proper look at this girl.” A pause. “You may rise.”

The Giver squeezed her hand again, this time much more gently. Lia gritted her teeth and forced herself not to yank her hand from his. The situation was precarious as it was. Slowly, she straightened, eyes lifting to take in Astera’s monarchs. Her first impression was that the queen was stunning in a cruel, sharp sort of way, while the king was a pompous windbag. The monarchs looked like two primped peacocks. Lia took in the finery of their outfits and had to swallow her disgust. Their jewelry alone could feed the city for years.

The king scooted forward in his seat, scrutinizing her. His dark gaze flicked to Adder. “It’s a fair likeness, I’ll give you that. Almost uncanny.” The way he smiled was a mirror of the Giver’s. Godsteeth, it was eerie. “The hair alone…” He brushed his hand over his thin mouth as if in thought. “You’ve done well, my son.”

Adder seemed to stand a little taller. Just what had he done well at? Why was she here?

“Not so fast, my dear,” the queen interjected. She pushed a black curl from her shoulder and lifted her chin, her honeyed eyes gleaming as she stared down at Dahlia. A shiver snaked down Lia’s spine at the malice and knowing that glinted in the queen’s gaze. “We have yet to see the markings.”

Lia blanched, and she tugged her hand from the Giver’s. She bit her bottom lip as it trembled. How did they know about her legs? She stared hard at Adder until he met her gaze.

“Show them,” Adder commanded softly with a nod toward her skirts.

Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of showing them her greatest shame, but there was no other option. Lia wouldn’t even make it out of the room if she bolted. There was a much bigger game afoot, and she was just a pawn.

With shaking hands and heated cheeks, she grabbed handfuls of her rough-spun skirt and lifted it inch by inch. She forced herself not to curl in on herself as she exposed her legs to their scrutiny.

The king whistled, drawing her attention. His lip was curled in disgust that made her feel only a foot tall. “Blood and bones, it’s enough to turn your stomach. Hideous.”

Heat pressed at the back of her eyes, but she blinked it away. It was just skin. A condition she’d been born with. Not a disease. Then why did their words hurt so much?

Others have said worse. Don’t crumble. Just survive.

“We’ve seen enough,” the queen said. Lia quickly dropped her skirt. “What is your name?”

“Dahlia, Your Highness,” Lia replied, looking to the royal who watched Dahlia like she was a succulent fruit.

“No family name?”

“Only self-proclaimed. My mother was from one of the traveling bard clans, so it’s Skysinger.”

“I see.” The queen smiled, but it seemed almost mocking. “So floral. How plebian. And yet fortuitous. I was once enamored with flowers myself. Well, dear Dahlia, I have a proposition for you. It seems your brother is in a bit of trouble with the crown.”

So the Giver hadn’t kept his word. She swallowed down her bitter words and kept her focus on the queen. An outburst would do no one any good.

“He’s a good boy,” Dahlia said softly. “Made the wrong friends.”

“I’m sure he is, but the law is the law,” the queen crooned. “You know stealing has never been tolerated in Astera. It’s a serious crime. Your brother’s life is in the balance.”

Lia’s stomach dropped to her feet. “His life?”

“Indeed. While execution is too harsh, serving a few years in the Asterium fields is well within the rights of sentencing.”

No. To serve as a harvester in the hallucinogen fields was a death sentence. The pollen of the flowers burned the lungs, eyes, and skin. Most of the workers went blind first, then numb, and eventually drowned in their own blood. It was a gruesome, painful death for the rare jewel-like dye. With her brother’s health in the state it was, he wouldn’t make it more than a fortnight.

Lia darted a glance to Adder, but he was watching the queen. There was no one here to save her. She only had herself.

“It is, Your Highness,” Lia stated woodenly.

“But he is very young for the field, and sickly from what I hear,” the queen drawled. She smiled, and it cut right through Lia as if she could see every fear she had. “That does not have to be his fate. We could be lenient.”

And there was the bait. Dahlia held the queen’s gaze. “He’s my last living companion, Your Highness. His heart is my heart. What will you have of me?”

The queen laughed, and it grated Lia’s ears. “So very bright. You’ll do just fine.” Her blood-red lips curled. “We need a spy in the Loriian court.”

Loriian. The frost giants .

Lia blanched, her palms sweating. “Me?”

“You.”

“But I’m not a spy.”

The queen waved a hand. “We need you to watch, listen, and write to us. That’s not too difficult, is it?”

It sounded simple, yet it was anything but. When her troupe had traveled near Loriia’s border, she’d seen the traitors staked at the kingdom’s edge. A warning for any humans passing into their realm without permission.

She swallowed hard. “Why me?”

“You’re the perfect fit. Now, will you accept?”

“I will … if it spares my brother.” The words were difficult to get out past the fear. “And that is what my lady requires of me.” A tactful add-on.

“It is. I assume you’re learned?”

“I am.” The words felt wrong in her mouth. “My mother taught me well.”

“Perfect. Then your training will be short.” She looked to her husband, who’d stayed silent, observing the interaction. “What say you, my lord?”

The king grinned. “It seems we have it all in hand. Basil will handle your training. You will stay here until the envoy comes for you. You’re dismissed.”

Dahlia bowed low, hardly knowing what she’d agreed to. She shot a look at the Giver, who smiled lopsidedly at her and winked. Stars, she hated him.

With slow steps, she moved toward the man they called Basil. He held the hidden door open for her, a fake smile on his face.

“Oh, and, sweet Dahlia?” the queen called. “Behave and work hard, will you? Or your brother goes to the fields.”