Chapter 10
Dinner was extravagant: roasted fish; greens and root vegetables from the courtyard garden with tart, unusual undertones; fresh bread; hearty soups that warmed Dalla from the inside out.
But the room was utterly silent. Kolfrosta chose to dine with Dalla again, but she merely watched with appraising eyes. Dalla struggled to keep her hands steady as she brought the food to her lips. Every action of hers was being judged.
Any misstep could cause her to suffer the same fate as her family. This knowledge made Dalla uneasy, but it also made her bold. She wanted to prove that she could rule more justly than the rest of her family had. She yearned for Kolfrosta to see her as someone capable of doing so.
The plates and bowls were cleared away, leaving Dalla and Kolfrosta at opposite ends of a table. Dalla ran her tongue over her teeth to clean them before she spoke.
“Have you made up your mind?”
Kolfrosta sighed, and Dalla couldn’t help but admire her elegant neck, the way the snowflakes flurried under her skin.
Nighttime brought out the contrast between the snow and the midnight blue tint once more.
She was like a painting—better than a painting, and certainly better than the one commissioned by the fairy queen that didn’t quite capture her essence.
Dalla raised her gaze to Kolfrosta’s solemn eyes.
“I have not made up my mind,” said Kolfrosta. “If I may be perfectly honest, this is much harder than it ever was with the rest of your family.”
Dalla straightened in her chair. “Why is that?”
“Everyone else was forthright. It’s easy to mete out justice against someone who has so clearly violated it. You have done nothing of the sort.”
“I have a confession as well,” Dalla said, though she hoped sharing it would not be the end of her.
“I have not intentionally acted any nobler than my family. It never occurred to me to wield power the way they did. I… I think it is naivety, and not innate goodness, that has made me rule the way I have.”
Kolfrosta considered this. “You are kinder than you know,” she said. “And your understanding of your lack of knowledge indicates to me that there is room for growth. For intentionality.”
“Please allow me to prove to you that I can make a difference,” said Dalla. “Let me go home. Let me fight Puck and involve myself personally with the citizens of my kingdom. I will make change—aggressively. Actively. This I promise you.”
“I want to let you go, Dalla,” Kolfrosta admitted. “I just don’t know if I’m thinking clearly these days.”
An ancient fae being, not thinking clearly? “Whatever do you mean?” asked Dalla.
Kolfrosta lowered her eyes. “I am drawn to you in ways I can’t explain.”
Dalla’s heartbeat leapt into her throat.
“I always have been. Since the first time I saw you,” Kolfrosta continued.
“You were—you are—beautiful, and I did not know humans could be beautiful. And then you opened your mouth.” She laughed.
“I couldn’t keep you here in good conscience back then, and I feel the same way now that you have returned. ”
Dalla did not know when she had gotten up from her seat, but her feet took her to Kolfrosta’s side. Dalla lifted one shaking hand to Kolfrosta’s warm cheek.
Kolfrosta encompassed Dalla’s hand with her own.
“I am drawn to you as well,” Dalla said, blushing furiously. “Obviously.”
“Your dreams,” said Kolfrosta.
“And yours,” said Dalla.
“I don’t want something between us to cloud my judgment.” Tears shone in Kolfrosta’s eyes.
“Have a clear head tomorrow,” Dalla whispered. “Be mine tonight.”
A tear traced down Kolfrosta’s cheek. “I deny myself so many things,” she said.
“We haven’t done anything like this before, have we?” Dalla asked, because she had to know.
“Of course not,” Kolfrosta said, gentle as snowfall.
Dalla believed her. She responded with a kiss.
Nothing about this kiss could be mistaken for an accident. Kolfrosta kissed her back, lips trembling with need. Dalla kissed the side of Kolfrosta’s mouth, and her jawline, and her neck. Her mouth moved along the warm skin, and the fast pulse of Kolfrosta’s heartbeat thrummed against her lips.
She made it to Kolfrosta’s collarbone when Kolfrosta murmured, “Undress me.”
Dalla’s fingers slid under the shoulders of Kolfrosta’s cloak, freeing her of it. She shoved the fabric away from the chair.
Kolfrosta stood, turning her back to Dalla. Ties laced the back of the crystal-like dress, and Dalla reached for them with eager fingers, undoing each with care. The dress slid around Kolfrosta’s legs, crystals clanking against the ground.
The sight of Kolfrosta’s naked body nearly brought Dalla to her knees. Her shoulders and hips were broad, the curve of her breasts supple, her waist like it was begging for Dalla’s hands to hold. Dalla brought herself to her senses, shook her head.
“You are amazing,” she said, awed into honesty.
“And you?” Kolfrosta asked, raising one eyebrow. The lack of humility drew Dalla to her. Kolfrosta knew she was beautiful—as she should, Dalla thought.
Dalla shed her clothes quickly and without grace and surged forward, sweeping Kolfrosta into her arms and setting her on the table.
She was short, but years of swinging a sword around and riding horses had made her strong.
Kolfrosta wound her fingers through Dalla’s hair as Dalla kissed the area below her collarbone, the top of her breast.
She took a nipple into her mouth and swirled her tongue over it. Kolfrosta shivered with delight.
Dalla’s tongue trailed over the underside of Kolfrosta’s breast. “Will you open for me?” she asked against her skin, hands pressing into the muscle of Kolfrosta’s thigh.
“Yes,” Kolfrosta breathed.
Her legs parted for Dalla, and Dalla ran a finger up her thigh. The hair between Kolfrosta’s legs was silver, and her pussy glistened in the twinkling lights of the room. Saliva filled Dalla’s mouth.
Slowly, she thought. She wanted to savor every minute of this—it could be their first and last time together.
She steadied one hand against Kolfrosta’s back, and Kolfrosta arched into her touch. Her other hand reached between Kolfrosta’s legs. She was deliciously wet, and Dalla wanted more than anything to taste her. Her fingers moved up and down, feeling the warmth of her, her softness.
She pressed in closer, and their lips touched again.
She caught Kolfrosta’s bottom lip in her teeth as fast breaths blew against her mouth.
Her fingertips made infinite patterns against Kolfrosta, slower and then faster and faster, and Kolfrosta’s breath hitched, her back gleaming with sweat, and she came over Dalla’s hand with a noise that Dalla wanted to capture in one of the baubles and keep forever.
This made Dalla feel powerful, more so than she ever could wearing a crown. Here, everything made sense—everything was washed away. Just Dalla and Kolfrosta, Kolfrosta and Dalla. Kolfrosta’s pleasure in the palm of Dalla’s hand and at her mercy.
Dalla moved away and kissed the inside of Kolfrosta’s thigh. Kolfrosta shuddered; Dalla clamped a hand over her knee to hold her in place.
Her first taste of Kolfrosta was like everything else in this palace: magic, otherworldly, so supreme as to be surreal. She tasted, and she tasted, and Kolfrosta squirmed under her touch, panting and tugging at her hair, pulling her in close.
Kolfrosta finished over Dalla’s face. Dalla sat back on her knees, looking up at her work. Kolfrosta’s hair was askew, pendant necklace dangling to one side—undone, and more beautiful than ever.
“Keep me,” Dalla begged. “Keep me around for another year.”
“I will,” Kolfrosta promised breathlessly. “I may be a fool for it, but I will.”
“You trust me?” Dalla asked, suddenly needing an answer more than anything.
Kolfrosta swung herself up, bent herself down to Dalla, and cupped her chin in one hand. “I do,” she said. “Do you trust me?”
Dalla licked her lips, tasting Kolfrosta on her. Kolfrosta nudged Dalla upward until Dalla was eye to eye with her, and then she kissed Dalla, soft and sweet.
“Yes,” said Dalla. “I do.”
“Tomorrow,” Kolfrosta said. “Puck will come at midday. Take my scepter—it’s how I travel between worlds. The servants will bring you to a side entrance, where the stags will wait with the sleigh. They’ll direct you back to the mortal world for another year.”
“I don’t want you to die,” Dalla whispered.
“It’s not forever,” Kolfrosta said, wiping a tear from Dalla’s face. “Only for a few months, really. I will see you next year at the height of my power.”
Kolfrosta slid from the table and lifted Dalla by the shoulders. She pressed against Dalla’s abdomen, pushing her back onto the table.
“Kolfrosta…” Dalla said.
And then she said no more, because Kolfrosta’s mouth was on her.