Chapter 10 - From One Icy Master to the Next
Wrenora
Another grueling day of pointless cleaning.
The floors were spotless, I wasn’t sure the walls could be any cleaner, and the laundry had been demanding but manageable.
A terrible snow squall kept Madam Ignes from leaving the manor, so she’d only changed three times.
The kitchen had been scrubbed down after the evening meal, and I’d retired with Lorna and Derella to the cellar for the night.
I’d no sooner sat on the side of my cot when the call bell rang. Lorna and I glanced at one another before we looked over at Derella who’d been pulling her shoes off to change. It wasn’t like Madam Ignes to call us at this hour; she was usually tucked away in her bedchamber.
“If the lady calls,” I said, rolling my eyes before reaching a hand down to help Lorna to her feet.
The three of us quickly assembled in the back parlor where she gave us assignments. I still wasn’t used to the gaudy gold furnishings, painted wood trim, and papered walls. Where the Ice Fortress was almost plain and monochromatic, this was garish.
“Seems we have a thief in our midst.” Inges’s haughty voice scraped over us as she entered the room with her servants in tow. “Someone has stolen an extra demiloaf of bread.”
My gaze snapped up as her vicious glare moved across each one of us.
There were only three thralls, but Lorna stood out.
She was shaking violently, wringing her hands in her work skirt.
I knew it was her, but I’d never tell. Instead, I let Madam Ignes glare at each one of us before she finally yanked Lorna into the center of the room.
“Worthless piece of shit,” Ignes spat.
The countess pulled a dagger from the folds of her gown.
I didn’t think, just reacted, letting my battle training take over.
I slid in front of the poor girl, who had done little more than cover her face with her hands, and wrenched the dagger from Ignes’s grasp.
The countess shrieked, jerking back from me as though I’d struck her.
It was clear the woman hadn’t fought in a single battle in all her life, as her grip on the dagger had been sloppy and loose.
Instead of wielding the weapon against her, however, I threw it across the room, the blade sticking firmly into one of the tapestries on the far side.
Every eye was firmly planted on me. Fucking Nine Hells. My cheeks grew hot, warmth bubbling through me for the first time in weeks. If this was all it took to be warm, perhaps I’d rip daggers from unsuspecting elves more often.
I’d inadvertently targeted one of the elves in the tapestry, the blade piercing the center of their forehead with perfect accuracy. I might not be particularly good at swinging a sword, but throwing a knife? That was something I excelled at.
Ignes scowled at me before she took another step back, her eyes narrowing.
“I won’t tolerate such insolence in my house. Not stealing nor the wielding of weapons.”
Her eyes darted to each of us as she pulled one of the servants between herself and me, as if that could keep me from killing her. I’d already proven I was faster, stronger, and far more skilled.
“If you don’t wish to have your thralls stealing bread, perhaps feed them enough to keep them from starving,” I snapped, without thinking about how I sounded or whether I should speak with such a tone to the woman who technically owned me.
She huffed, stepping forward with a deep breath, preparing to speak, when a loud pounding startled all of us.
“Who would call at this hour? And in this storm?” Ignes motioned to one of the servants to answer the door. “The nerve of some people.”
The spindly elven girl rushed down the hall before her cry of shock echoed off the walls of the entry. She rushed back into the room and whispered something in Ignes’s ear. The countess went bone white as ominously slow footsteps followed the servant down the hall.
No one expected the man who stepped into our midst, least of all me. Madam Ignes was the first to curtsy, the rest of us falling into formation behind her.
The prince’s eyes traveled from one person to the next until they landed firmly on me and narrowed.
Every inch of him was covered from his eyes down, all in the same shade of blue he seemed to favor.
His white hair was loose and wild around his shoulders, disheveled in a way I’d never seen from him before.
As if noticing my scrutiny, he ran his fingers through his hair.
“The thrall woman comes with me.”
My heart stopped, because even though there were three of us in the room, I knew which thrall woman he spoke of. His lavender eyes hadn’t left mine since they’d found me.
What did he want with me? What had I done to deserve his ire? For him to come back to punish me? I had only ever done as I’d been told...other than perhaps sneaking around his fortress...and into his study. But that had been the cat’s fault, and I’d stand firm on that.
“I’m sorry, Highness, but whom—”
“Wrenora Falon,” he snapped, and Madam Ignes shrank farther back from his dark tone.
He’d come for me.
He’d come for me?
He held out a small purse. “To cover her cost.”
Her cost. Because I was a commodity. I knew the truth. Even if the purse contained copper coins and nothing more, it was far more than Ignes had paid for me.
“I’m...I...but perhaps—”
“She leaves with me.”
“Not without Lorna.” The words poured from me before I could stop them.
“Madam Ignes was about to kill her for stealing a tiny loaf of bread when she can’t even feed us properly.
” I glared at the countess, pretending there wasn’t a fuming elven prince a few paces from me.
“She’d have us starve to death before she’d trouble herself to treat us better than dogs.
” I directed my last few words to her. “We can’t be useful if we’re starved to death. ”
The prince took a smooth step forward and I flinched back, preparing for an ice blade to be pressed once again to my throat.
“I’ve come for you and you alone.” His words melted through me and settled in my stomach, embarrassment heating my cheeks.
The way his eyes held a hint of desperation in them was unexpected. I swallowed my fear and folded my arms, unsure where my bravery came from.
“I don’t leave without Lorna.”
I knew he wouldn’t touch me. Even with his hands in gloves, he wouldn’t dare to be so close to a filthy human. I’d seen him shrink from me before.
But he stepped closer. Close enough I could see the threads of silver in his irises and smell his crisp, frozen scent. I tipped my head to look up at his partially covered face.
The silence stretched as I held my ground, hoping if he decided to put me to death, he’d remove my head rather than sink his frozen sword into my chest.
“Is this your wish? To stay?” There was something strangely desperate about his words, his voice soft and only for me. It sent a flutter of warmth into my stomach. “I’m offering you your freedom.”
The moment hung thick in the air. Offering me my freedom?
That didn’t seem possible. I dropped my arms to my sides, certain I couldn’t hide the shock vibrating through me that replaced the rage.
Lorna’s hand slipped into mine, and I startled.
I hadn’t noticed her approach, too busy staring at the frozen prince in front of me, our eyes locked as though no one else existed.
“Go, Wrenora. I’ll be fine.”
I turned to her, clutching both her hands in mine. “You’re starving. You’re stealing so you won’t go hungry.”
“You have one less mouth to feed, Ignes. Ensure the thralls in your household are properly cared for, or your privilege to own them shall be revoked.” The prince’s voice was cold and gritty, edged in anger as he faced the countess with his frigid glare.
“But, Highness, who will—”
“That’s none of my concern. Wrenora Falon comes with me,” he said, slower this time.
Frozen magic swirled up from behind as his ice armor solidified around him. Two more steps back and his face was completely hidden behind his helm, leaving no room for negotiation. Lorna squeezed my hand, her fingers slipping from mine before I was ready to let her go.
“I’ll be fine here. Go,” Lorna hissed.
I didn’t want to leave her, but she was right. I’d been bought and paid for. Again. I rushed after the prince, who had already descended the front steps of Madam Ignes’s home. He didn’t wait, walking away as though he trusted me to follow.
How hard would it be to run? If I could make it to the farthest edge of Neeva, maybe I could make it over the permafrost fields and into the Wilds of Galliana.
But I didn’t have a cloak or supplies. I’d freeze to death very quickly in the frigid wind ceaselessly blasting me in the face.
No wonder he didn’t worry I’d run; I wasn’t even going to make it to the Ice Fortress.
The streets around us were barren. The entire city knew how blisteringly cold it was outside and decided they didn’t want to freeze to death in the snow squall.
The emptiness made the masonry mixed with wattle-and-daub structures loom over me, glaring down like soulless beasts.
Stone cobbles worn down by hooves, feet, and bitter-cold wind stretched ahead until they disappeared in the swirling snow, giving me no clear indication of how long I’d have to walk in these treacherous conditions.
I clutched my arms around my chest, trying to keep them warm, but it was no use.
After a few moments, my teeth were chattering, my toes were numb, and my ears ached.
I wasn’t going to make it. I was going to fucking freeze to death.
Whatever money the prince had paid for me would be a waste, and I’d never learn what he needed me for.
I could see the spires of the Ice Fortress in the distance, and I knew there was no chance.
I stopped, unable to will my frost-petrified legs to move any farther.
Maybe I’d pass out from hypothermia before the pain of my flesh freezing to death settled in.
I glared at the prince’s back as he walked, noting the slightest limp in his step I hadn’t seen before. Had he always had it? Or was this something new? He paused, turning toward me with both hands on his hips.
“You humans are slow.”
“I’d rather b-b-be a slow human than a heartless m-m-m-monster.”
He let his arms relax as he took three slow steps closer. “I can take you back to Ignes if that’s your wish.”
“I’d rather die.”
Another step closer. I wished I could see his face as he tipped his head to the side, folding his arms. “That can be arranged.”
My shivering was so violent it was hard to stand up straight.
“I fucking hate the cold,” I whispered as I squeezed my eyes closed. “I fucking hate you,” I said softer, not actually wanting him to hear these last four words.
I felt the weight of fabric as it was placed over my shoulders.
The prince had given me his cloak. The material swallowed me whole, and while it warmed my shoulders and neck almost instantly, my face, hands, and feet were still freezing.
I tried to look up at him, but everything had gone blurry, his ice armor swimming in my vision.
“I c-can’t move. It’s t-t-too fucking cold.”
Another long moment of him staring passed before I tried to speak again, but the words came out as a brittle broken whimper. I stumbled into the nearest wall. So tired. So cold...So...fucking cold. I hated the cold. I hated the snow. I hated the ice. I hated—
I was swept into his arms. He cradled me against his chest plate, pulling the cloak over my face and tucking the fabric around my legs and feet, then started walking as he had before.
Why would he think I could walk through such frigid conditions without any protection from the elements?
Why had he come for me? How could he carry me when he seemed so averse to being anywhere near a human?
But I’d have to wait for answers, because as my hands and feet started to warm, my mind grew doughy, and the motion of his steps lulled me into a state of half consciousness.