Frost Bound (Entangled with Trickery #1)

Dahlia

Chapter Fourteen

Dahlia

Dahlia bolted upright, disoriented and groggy as thunder rumbled above. She rubbed her eyes and brushed a few hairs from her face. Her breath sawed in and out as she tried to calm her racing heart. It was only a storm. She pulled the covers up to her chin as a cold breeze drifted through the room. Glancing over her head, she glared at the open window. It was bloody storming. Why the devil was the window open?

Crazy giants .

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. A deep snore came from her right. Squinting, she spotted the mountain of a giant sleeping peacefully on the floor, his chest rising and lowering with his powerful breaths. Olwen was his name. He snorted in his sleep again, the loud snuffling seeming to rattle the rafters. How could anyone sleep with all that racket?

Lia shifted slightly and winced. Her body ached something fierce. While she knew how to ride, it had been quite some time since she’d ridden a horse—let alone the fuzzy, giant ones. Straddling the great beast made her feel like a contortionist. The inside of her thighs were raw and aching.

She inhaled deeply through her nose and frowned.

Rosemary and cedar.

Dahlia lifted the blankets to her nose. Not those. She dropped the covers and sniffed the collar of the massive night dress. There it was. Her muscles loosened as she took another whiff. The scent was pure comfort. Whatever soap the giants used, Lia couldn’t wait to get her hands on some. It made her mouth water.

Rolling onto her left side, she stared at the fireplace. The flames were long gone, the coals glowing softly in the hearth. Another spasm of pain shot through her, and she glanced once again at the window. It was still dark out. It was possible she’d only slept a few hours, if dawn hadn’t broken yet. Rain pattered on the roof, and she stifled a groan. She prayed they wouldn’t make her travel in the rain again. Even now, she could feel the stiffness in her fingers from the cold of the day’s ride.

Olwen’s snores somehow got louder, and Lia rolled her eyes. Despite how gritty they were, and how much she needed to sleep, she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with all that noise.

Quietly, she rolled toward the fire onto her hands and knees. Her back twinged as she began rolling up her pallet. She tied the thin cord around the bedroll and sat back on her knees before hauling herself to her feet. Goosebumps rose along her arms, and she smoothed her hands along her biceps to ward off the chill. Light flashed from the window, followed by another crack of thunder.

Lia stared at the king sound asleep on the bed. She spun the emerald ring on her finger. All she had to do was creep to the bed, poison the king for ten second, and then flee. Her stomach churned. Maybe she could beat Cosmos to the maple harvests.

What of the Haunts?

Sweeping the three giants slumbering on the floor, Dahlia knew she couldn’t do it. She’d never make it out alive.

And it’s wrong.

She crept to her cloak and slung it over her shoulders. It wasn’t completely dry, but it wasn’t soaking wet like it had been. Dahla tiptoed to the door, turned the handle, and pulled. The hinges creaked and she froze, glancing at the giantess sleeping behind the door.

Dahlia’s pulse leapt as she stared down into pitch eyes, narrowed with suspicion.

A good thing you didn’t approach the king.

She blew out a heavy breath and jerked her head toward the hallway. “Going for something to eat,” she whispered. “I’ll be by the fire.”

Flyka nodded once.

Lia edged into the hallway and closed the door. It was highly inappropriate to go into a public space dressed in one’s sleeping garments, but Dahlia was too hungry and tired to care. Plus, they were in Umberje—it was as rustic as it got in Astera. Surely, no one would begrudge her comfort.

You’re a princess now.

With a grumble, she buttoned the front of her decorative cloak. It covered enough that no one would know the difference.

Following the scent of bread and bacon, she descended the stairs into the main area of the inn. A simple wooden bar stood to the right, and table and chairs to her left. Three large chairs surrounded the fireplace, their faded fabric looking more inviting than shabby.

A man slept at one of the far tables, his feet propped up on top, a hat over his face. Dahlia eyed him and wove her way through the furniture before standing in front of the fireplace. The flames danced merrily, and finally some of the chill fled her bones.

Dahlia turned her back to the fireplace when a woman bustled out of a swinging door to the left of the bar. The buxom woman paused, blinking her gray eyes at Lia.

“What are you doing up, love?” She placed her hand on her round hips. “Me husband said you only just arrived.”

Lia smiled at her. “Couldn’t sleep.”

The innkeeper’s wife shook her head. “I suppose not with the way the storm is carrying on.” She held up a finger. “I have just the thing. You wait there.”

As if she would be leaving the fire anytime soon.

The woman pushed through the door once again, leaving Dahlia to her own thoughts and rumbling belly. When was the last time she’d eaten? Not yesterday. Was it really before she’d seen Cosmos? She placed a hand on her cramping stomach.

The innkeeper’s wife rushed back into the common room carrying a cup of steaming tea, a thick slice of bread with honey and butter, and a knitted blanket slung over the crook of her arm.

“Into the chair with you, missy,” the woman commanded. “From the looks of ya, it seems like a stiff wind could blow you over. That won’t do with the company you’re keeping.”

Lia plopped down in the nearest chair, sinking down into the worn cushions. The innkeeper’s wife handed her the cup of tea and she curled her fingers around the warmth with a happy sigh. There was nothing more pleasant than holding a cuppa on a cold day. The woman then set the bread on a small, dented side table beside the chair. She laid the blanket over Dahlia’s lap and then stepped back, surveying her handiwork.

“That’s better.”

Lia smiled at the older woman. “Thank you, madam.”

“Pssssh,” the woman said, waving a hand. “Call me Birdie.”

She took a sip of the milky tea and savored the cinnamon. “This is just what I needed.”

“Just so,” Birdie commented, nodding. “Well then, you eat your treat and try to get a little nap in that chair.” She patted Lia’s knee. “I’ll be behind the bar folding sheets, so you’ll be looked after.”

Warmth suffused Dahlia. She loved when women womened. It wasn’t a safe world for the female sex as a whole. Never would she sleep in a public place, but with Birdie around? Lia felt safe.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, dearie.”

Birdie bustled away in a rush of homespun skirts and began humming softly behind the bar. Lia tried to eat her bread slowly, but it was gone too soon, followed by her tea. Her eyelids felt heavy as she leaned her head against the wingback of the chair. Maybe she’d just close her eyes for a moment…

She always knew when someone was looking at her.

Dahlia’s eyes snapped open; blearily, she searched to her right and left. She stiffened when the giant to her right winked.

Olwen.

The Loriian had stuffed himself into the chair next to her. It groaned as he leaned forward, hands clasped between his splayed knees.

“So your tongue is pink,” he murmured.

Lia snapped her mouth closed and wiped her cheeks for saliva. “What of it?” She must have been sleeping deeply. Even now she felt a bit foggy.

The beast opened his mouth and flicked his long, pointed tongue out. Dahlia stared. His tongue was black, with ridges. Unbidden, a memory from her childhood surfaced of a giant boy sticking his tongue out at her. She’d forgotten Loriians had black tongues. Lia shrugged and pulled her blanket up to her chest. “ Shocking .”

Olwen grinned, making him seem less intimidating. “You don’t seem shocked, my lady. In fact, you look decidedly unimpressed.”

“What I was unimpressed with was your snoring last night,” she retorted.

Don’t let him get to you. Make friends. Collect information.

He looked affronted. “ Me ? I never snore.”

Flyka materialized at Lia’s right side. “You most assuredly do,” she replied dryly. “It’s a bloody miracle anyone got any rest.” The giantess held out a plate with a flat cake, bacon, eggs, and maple syrup. “Break your fast, my lady. We must be on the road soon.”

Dahlia took the food from Flyka without complaint and stared at the window past Olwen while she shoved the breakfast into her mouth.

It was still raining.

A shiver ran down her spine. She would need something heavier than the thin cloak she wore to survive the day. There was no way she’d be able to go through another trip like last night. She’d catch her death.

As if Olwen heard her thoughts, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. He scanned her from head to toe. “I think we need to outfit you with something more proper for the journey.”

She nodded, swallowing the fluffy eggs. “Are my things with my mount?”

He pursed his lips. “Most of your effects were either sent ahead or are behind us with the rest of the caravan.”

She mulled that over. Maybe she could trade her fine green dress for something sensible. Surely, Birdie would know of someone who would barter.

The door flew open and Arun ducked inside, looking angry as usual. The food congealed in her gut as she watched the menace approach with a bundle under his arm, the top of his head almost reaching the ceiling. Rain dripped down his cheeks and bare chest, but he seemed not to notice.

She forced herself to eat the last bit of meat despite her churning belly. One never knew when the next meal would arrive. Heat stained her cheeks once again as she caught Olwen studying her.

“What?” she groused, setting her plate on the empty side table. Had Birdie cleaned up after Lia’s early-morning snack? She’d need to thank the woman.

“You eat like a warrior, my lady,” he stated bluntly.

“What does that mean?” she asked, keeping her attention on Olwen and ignoring the glowering presence behind her.

“Swift and efficiently. Like someone is going to take your food.”

He hadn’t asked a question, but he was probing her. Apparently, some habits were hard to break, and playing princess wouldn’t be easy.

Tell the truth. Mix it with a lie. The lie is the truth.

She brushed the crumbs from her lap. “In my culture, thin women are exulted above all else. You’ve met the queen. She has high standards.” Truth . “She expects that in her daughter as well.” She would let them draw their own conclusions from there.

Olwen crossed his thick, muscular arms across his wide chest and frowned. “What a stupid ideal. Every valles is different, and should be appreciated for her uniqueness, not punished for it.”

His sentiment warmed Dahlia. He still frightened her, but she softened toward Olwen. Just a bit. “My beliefs exactly.”

He smiled, flashing his fangs, and Lia swallowed, shoving down her fear, and returned his smile. The giant had shown her understanding. That wasn’t something she had expected.

A bundle of clothes was tossed roughly into her lap. “Get dressed. We’re already late.”

Arun’s deep, dark voice washed over her, and Dahlia just barely managed to hide her shudder. She clutched the parcel to her chest and stood, making sure to lay the blanket over the back of the seat with care.

She dipped her chin at Arun, not meeting his gaze. Not that it really mattered. She couldn’t tell where he was looking anyway. His eyes were completely black.

Lia hustled away from the fireplace, waving at Birdie, who was still folding laundry. The innkeeper’s wife returned the greeting and went back to her chores. The Frost King reached the bottom of the stairs and Dahlia curtsied.

He nodded to her and smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good morning, princess. I trust you slept well?”

“As well as I could, my lord.”

“Excellent.” He walked by her to the group, standing out in his black regalia, murmuring a low hello to his guards.

Lia watched them for a moment. Arun’s face turned in her direction and she fled up the stairs to ready herself for the soggy day.

Hopefully, the rain wouldn’t be so horrid.

Hope was a cruel mistress.

Despite the rough-spun, sturdy dress and heavy cloak she’d been given, the water eventually soaked through. The weather had only gotten worse throughout the day. At one point, Lia had lain on the top of her horse, Anwen, and held on for dear life. The wind howled as they passed one of the biggest lakes she’d ever laid her eyes on, tearing at her cloak. White-capped waves crashed onto the pink sands, leaving foam behind.

She ducked her face into Anwen’s mane to avoid the stinging pelt of the rain that seemed to be falling sideways. Her palms and fingers had stopped stinging hours ago. Dahlia didn’t know how long they’d been riding, but they’d eaten the noon meal hours ago. All she wanted was a fire and her bed.

You can do this. You’ve been through worse. Just sing. Focus on the song.

Her fingers knotted in Anwen’s mane and she began humming, her voice rumbling in her throat while the storm did its best to tear her from the horse.

The stars will keep you safe, little one,

There’s no need to fear the dark.

The storm shrieked above; she clutched Anwen harder, her cheek pressed to the mount’s mane.

Rise to the sky and take flight,

Embrace the night and soar.

A bellow.

Dahlia blinked slowly and lifted her head, squinting. Arun was thundering toward her, destruction written across his face. She yanked on the reins and stopped. He yelled and gestured, but she didn’t make out his words. He was too far away.

The giant leaned over his horse and urged it faster, Olwen and the king behind him. The hair at the nape of her neck rose as she heard a huff. She straightened in the saddle and twisted slowly.

Her stomach dropped as she spotted a creature she had hoped never to cross paths with.

A dimedon.

The height of her horse and twice as wide, the creature bore down on Flyka. Shiny black fur rippled over its robust body. Flyka’s mount kicked at the beast as it swiped its long claws at her. Despite its short legs, the creature moved quickly. It bared its long teeth that were nestled in a short snout.

There was no way the giantess would be able handle the beast alone, and the others were too far away. They wouldn’t make it in time.

It’s not your job to protect Flyka.

She’s a Haunt.

Dahlia swung Anwen around and urged him toward the giantess, her heart pounding.

She couldn’t just stand by and watch the giantess fight for her life, even if she was a Haunt. It was wrong to stand on the sidelines. Lia needed to help.