Frost Bound (Entangled with Trickery #1)

Dahlia

Chapter Thirty-Two

Dahlia

She’d put on a brave face when her new ladies swept into the room to help her ready for the day. They’d arrived in a flurry of silk, fur, and lace.

Luckily, she’d managed to find a pair of black leather leggings and put them on beforehand. Old habits died hard. Plus, the dress the king had chosen wasn’t warm. Who the devil wore lace in the dead of winter? Or sleeveless robes with no shirt beneath it?

Loriians, that’s who.

Over the course of the following two hours, she’d been lotioned and polished to perfection by Freya, Bothi, Alda, and Birgit. They’d tittered over the king’s shirt, and admired Lia’s strawberry-blonde hair, gently weaving the locks into a feminine masterpiece. They’d laced her into an off-the-shoulder dress, and fluffed her skirt before turning her toward the ornate silver standing mirror next to the bed.

Dahlia just stared.

She’d lost a little weight in the last few weeks, her waist nipping in more than usual. The black lace cut across her chest, dipping into a heart shape, showing a hint of her cleavage. The lace sleeves clung to her arms and ended in a point on the back of each hand. A pale nude silk lay beneath the bodice, making it seem as if she had nothing on underneath. The lace skirt faded into airy onyx fur that almost appeared as frills. While she liked rich colors with lots of vibrance, for once in her life the color didn’t wash her out.

Lia smoothed her hands over her hips. It was a lovely contrast. The Loriian black, tempered with the nude color of her skin. She couldn’t help but think it made a statement.

I’m human, but your reilleve.

She’d chosen a simple black teardrop pearl necklace with a gold chain and left it at that. Other than the poison ring on her finger that seemed to weigh a ton.

That’s just your conscience.

She focused on the four ladies standing behind her, their varied shades of cyan skin forming a wall of giants. Dahlia spun around, lifting the voluminous skirt out of the way.

“I have a question for you all, if it’s not inappropriate.”

“Nothing you could ask us would be inappropriate,” Birgit, the tallest of her ladies said. “You are reilleve .”

“I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful the color of your complexion is. Are you all related?”

Brigit smiled, dainty fangs peeking out. “Yes, my lady. These are my cousins.”

“How fortuitous for you all to be chosen together as my ladies-in-waiting.”

“It is an honor, but it also comes with our title,” Freya interjected with a shy smile. “We are second cousins to the king.”

Lia nodded slowly. So, he’d stationed his family to spy on her. “Truly? How blessed am I to have gained so much family.”

Alda—the one with almost white hair—stood with her lips pressed together. This one didn’t like her. She could feel it.

“I know it must be difficult to accept a saloes in your home,” Lia said, staring Alda down. “But I will do my best to honor your king. Your culture is very different than mine, but I will accept it as my own.”

Alda’s lips eased the tiniest bit. Lia counted it as a victory. Centuries of bad blood would not be erased in a day, but perhaps she could befriend these women and learn more about this place—and then escape.

“Then if I may, reilleve ,” Bothi added. “I must advise you to reconsider your jewelry.”

“My jewelry?” She thumbed her ring.

The ladies began to nod. Bothi gestured to her long, pointed ears, that were covered in studded gems. “Piercings and jewels are an important part of our culture. You are queen, and yet you only wear one necklace and ring.”

“You think that’s a mistake?” Dahlia thought back to all the Loriians she’d come across. All had their ears pierced multiple times, wore silver rings on their fingers or in their hair. She gestured to the wardrobe. “Please show me what you’d choose.”

All four ladies lit up. Even Alda smiled.

Perhaps she’d made new friends already.

The palace was cold; she was bloody thankful she’d worn leggings beneath her dress. Two warriors she’d never seen before had led her from her room down a labyrinth of hallways and down many flights of stairs until they’d reached a black stone corridor with no windows.

She shivered, and her pace slowed. Why did they bring her here?

Perhaps they weren’t taking her to Neve but to the dungeons instead?

Don’t be stupid. Why dress you up?

That thought soothed Dahlia the tiniest bit, and relief filled her as Eyri stepped through the door with a smile on his face. Surely, he wouldn’t smile at her if he was to kill her? Olwen maybe, but not Eyri. The guards took their place on either side of the door as Eyri held his arm out to her.

“Are you ready?” he whispered softly.

“For what?”

“The wolves.”

She shrugged. “Can’t be much worse than home.”

He led her through a short hallway that opened to a chamber with rough-hewn stone walls. Her heeled boots clicked against the floor, and she kept her schooled expression in place as fifteen giants stood from the rectangular crystal table and bowed. She knew two at the table, Flyka and Olwen.

“ Reilleve ,” echoed in the room.

Eyri urged her forward around the largest chair until she faced the king. Her heart pounded as she met Neve’s pitch gaze. Long gone was the grumpy warrior of the road, an icy monarch in his place as hard as stone.

He sat in his carved wooden throne, regal chin held high. Chains and gems dripped from his ears, and shiny beads decorated his deep blue hair. A black brocade tunic with a row of neat silver buttons marched down his chest to his leathers. A multitude of silver rings gleamed on his fingers.

Dahlia curtsied, so thankful the ladies-in-waiting had changed her jewelry. She would have looked like a simple bumpkin beside this king. Slowly she rose, and the king held a hand out to her. Lia released Eyri and took a step closer, sliding her nerveless fingers against his. He gently tugged her between his thick, splayed thighs and urged her to sit.

Lia perched on his lap, battling a rising blush. Her back was ramrod straight as he ran his hand down the back of her neck, then spine, and eventually settled on her left hip. He scooted her farther into his lap.

Dahlia did blush this time, keeping her dismay and annoyance from showing. What in the blazes was happening? She didn’t want to be anywhere near his lap after this morning. Growing up in a troupe of bards meant not a lot of privacy, so she’d seen her fair share of male appendages, but she’d never seen anything like the king’s … it was as disturbing as it was intriguing .

Her blush burned hotter. Stop it.

“Let me introduce you all to my niliave , Princess Dahlia of Astera.”

The giants bowed again before sitting in their seats, their attention focused completely on her, assessing. Lia did the same. There were some warm smiles of familiar faces, a few thin-lipped, and then she spotted a positively stormy cloud of a giantess. She seemed to fume in place; hate seeped from her pores.

Dahlia blinked slowly. A jealous lover? A wronged Loriian?

“Lumi, aren’t you going to welcome your new sister?”

The angry giantess smiled, but it was mean. Neve’s sister . “Welcome, reilleve .” Her tone dripped false sweetness.

“ Jaiell vei ,” Lia returned with just as much sweetness. A family feud. How delightful.

An old woman with white hair arched a brow. “My lady speaks Loriian?”

“No, but I’ve picked up a few words recently. It’s my hope to be fluent in the future.” A lie . She’d be long gone before she was fluent. “What is your name?”

“Eira.”

“It’s lovely to meet you.”

The giantess quirked a smile when a giant built like a bull grinned at her. “We heard you’re quick with a slingshot, my lady.”

How did they know this already? “I wouldn’t say quick…”

“Have you been trained with other weapons?”

She pursed her lips at his question, and teetered her hand in the air. “I’m a straight shot with a bow, and have a hidden love for throwing knives, but that’s the extent of my education in the art of war.”

“You brought us back a little fighter,” a much younger giant commented, his lavender face pensive. “What a delightful surprise.”

Lia didn’t like him on sight. There was something oily about him, about the smirk as he scanned her from head to toe. He reminded her of the Giver.

The king squeezed her hip and murmured, “It seems I have.”

Dahlia almost broke when Olwen winked at her and wiggled his brows. He was a cretin, to be sure. It would be very unqueenly for her to break out into a fit of giggles at her very first meeting.

“What did you make of the astrylle ?” an older giant asked, his long gray beard quivering. He leaned his elbows onto the table, his excitement almost palpable.

She warmed to him immediately. “I’ve never been more awed and terrified at once.”

He smiled, all his teeth on display. “An apt description of an astrylle if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What do you know of the troops gathering near the border cities of Loriia?” a particularly angular giant asked, his eyes narrowed.

Dahlia lifted her chin. “I know nothing of that.”

The giant scoffed. “We’ve had reports?—”

“Enough,” the king commanded. His hard tone made Lia sit even straighter.

A volley of Loriian burst from Lumi, her anger palpable. Neve replied, the lilting words sounding firm and a touch threatening. Lia observed as the king’s sister stiffened and then shut her mouth. She shot a glare at Dahlia.

Definitely wasn’t making a friend there.

The discussions continued completely in Loriian.

She did her best to look like she was following, when nothing made sense. After about thirty minutes of Neve ignoring her and the council pretending she wasn’t in fact perching in their king’s lap, she wiggled. Her toes had long since gone numb, since they’d been hanging on his thigh.

Neve inhaled sharply and she peeked up at him from underneath her lashes. The king didn’t look down at her, but his jaw had tightened. His fingers squeezed her hip in warning. Lia inwardly smirked. She liked irritating him. He bothered her just as much.

The longer she watched the council, the more she noticed. Whatever they spoke of—Warrin the old warrior, Eira the wise woman, Beram the bearded, and Olwen the naughty as she named them in her head—agreed with king. Lumi the storm cloud, Glassiv the blade, Bacti the oily, and a burly giantess named Illa, all disagreed. The rest of the council was silent, observing the proceedings like Dahlia.

She caught Eyri’s eye when he lifted his head from his writings on the table. He smiled softly before going back to his scratching. He must be the scribe. Just what sort of things did he write down? Was it the highlights of the meeting? Or plans for the future? Either way … his notes could prove useful.

Next, she studied Flyka.

The Haunt never cracked a smile or showed any emotion. She could have been a statue, except for when someone turned a little heated. Then her penetrating gaze landed on them, and suddenly those giants changed their tune.

She was the muscle—the blade of the king.

She’d treated Dahlia with kindness on their journey, and Lia had lost some of her fear of the Haunt. But now watching the other giants’ reaction to Flyka was a gentle reminder that the Haunt wasn’t her friend. She was there to only serve the king.

“Are we boring you, reilleve ?” the king whispered in her ear in common tongue.

Goosebumps broke out along her arms, and she barely managed to keep from gasping. The whole room had gone silent.

“Not at all.”

He pressed his other hand to her navel. “Such a patient wife.”

Her stomach had the gall to growl.

Olwen snickered, and she blushed again. When was the last time she ate? Last night? After the mess of this morning, she’d totally forgone breakfast, and was now paying for it.

Neve gently slid her from his lap onto her feet. “Why don’t you meet your ladies-in-waiting for some luncheon.”

A clear command and dismissal. And a statement about her station. While she may have the title of queen, Lia was considered anything but.

“As you wish, lae reillov .” She curtsied and went to step away, when he reached out and caressed the black diamond choker at her throat.

“I like this.”

Her eyes widened at the heated smirk that lifted his deep navy lips. Why was she staring at his mouth?

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Keep that on for dinner, would you?”

She gave him a questioning look. Just what was he about? “As you say.”

Lia lifted the hem of her skirt and walked out of the room, confusion swirling inside her. Why the sudden change in attitude? It threw her off-kilter.

“I don’t think you’ll need to evoke the concubine edict, reillov ,” Bacti the oily said just loud enough in common tongue that she heard him. “Surely our kingdom will be blessed with heirs soon.”

Dahlia’s jaw dropped and her steps sped up.

There would be no heirs.

Even if part of her wanted to see how the king’s skin tasted.