3. Three
Zimyn considered himself to be a personable Captain, one who his subordinates could comfortably come to with any issues. It was how his father taught him to lead and to build trust amongst the ranks so they listened to his orders and did their jobs with pride. A genuine camaraderie—because without that foundation, the Snow Court would be vulnerable and his Queen would be without a strong unit protecting her.
He could never let anything happen to Ludelle, which is why when the time came for him to leave, he would only give up his title to someone he trusted deeply.
It was the night after the ball, and the guard’s quarters—situated on the first level of the castle to be ready in case of attack—always came with a rowdy bunch after dinner. Bellies filled and an overabundance of drinks consumed. Only a few had to remain on duty during the night, so the rest let loose. And they deserved it. Working at the castle was filled with long days and nights, constantly cautious of everyone, even if nothing had happened to the court in years. His father called it a blessing. Zimyn was more prone to call it luck.
“Hey Captain! Sit down and have a drink with us,” Novus yelled out, his own drink sloshing over the frosted glass. Novus was a stiff bastard when on duty, but he knew how to enjoy himself when the occasion called for it. To be fair, Zimyn did, too. Those opportunities were just slimmer since his promotion.
“Not tonight.” Zimyn waved them off. He needed to rest. The next month would be full of preparation for the Undertaking, and he had to stay focused.
Like the rest of the court, no one knew what Ludelle would face as Queen. It would all be revealed the day of the Undertaking to her and the rest of the court, meaning Ludelle needed to be ready for anything. Only the minister Sveta was privy to that knowledge, as she served as an agent to the Weather Gods. The information would be brought down to her in a dream. She loved to speak about how she was “the hand that did their bidding”—whatever that meant. Her turquoise eyes shined brighter on the days after the dreams, as if the Gods rewarded her for her work with even more beauty, as if they hadn’t already blessed her with such commanding beauty already. Ultimately, people respected Balvan more, since he had political power that directly impacted the court.
“Come on, Zi. You’re as tense as a bowstring,” Novus said.
“I really shouldn’t.”
Another one of his guards, Flix, came up from behind him, practically pushing him down into a chair and a cold drink into his hand. It made his mouth water. Not because of the taste, but because of how it could numb his mind.
“I need to speak with you, Flix,” Zimyn said as he shoved the drink back to his friend and pointed toward his room. Flix nodded, setting the drink aside, where another guard swiped it up and gulped it down before Zimyn could even blink.
Zimyn’s room was nothing special. A bed, a desk, a dresser. His belongings were minimal, but he liked it that way. It would mean less to carry once he started traveling.
He had made the decision to finally leave months ago. Naive, he thought he could handle being Ludelle’s secret lover, but as the Undertaking approached and as Balvan pushed her to wed one of the nobles, Zimyn couldn’t take it. He would be stepping down.
Flix flopped back onto Zimyn’s bed and crossed his arms behind his head. “What can I do for you?”
Zimyn sat down and kicked his feet up on his desk, the icy furniture not even denting under the pressure.
“I have a favor.”
“Oh?” Flix straightened. “I hope it comes with lots of ale.”
The opposite, Zimyn thought. “It’s a promotion. I want you to take over as Captain.”
Flix stopped smiling. The blur of alcohol must have worn out. “I’m lost. You’re Captain already.”
“I’m leaving after Lud—Queen Ludelle’s Undertaking. I need a replacement.”
“Why?”
Zimyn shrugged. “I have my reasons. Ones that I rather keep to myself.”
“Then why me?” Flix pushed.
“You’ve known the Queen as long as me. You two have your own bond, and I know you’ll keep her safe.”
Zimyn picked up his mother’s ring from the drawer of his desk. The silver band was simple, the inside engraved with his name. It was a way to always have him with her, she would say. He always hid it in his room because he was scared of losing it if he carried it on him. But now, he would give it to Ludelle when he left, so she would still always have a piece of him with her.
“I accept.”
Zimyn whipped his head up. He expected more of a fight from Flix, but perhaps he understood why Zimyn needed to go; and from the way Flix’s eyes caught on the ring, it was evident he did.
“One condition,” Flix said. Zimyn quirked one of his brows. “You have a drink with us tonight—to celebrate.”
“All right,” he relented after a moment’s hesitation. “Just this one.”
They exited Zimyn’s room and the guards cheered when he chugged down his first ale, the bitter liquid sliding smoothly down his throat. Already, he could feel the effects on his brain, the way the world was just a bit fuzzier. For one night, he could forget about responsibility. Forget about Ludelle’s white eyes, the way they beckoned him closer—even as they were the very reason he had to leave. And most important of all, forget that he would never be able to be hers.
“Rough night?”
“What?” he barely babbled out, shaking his head in the process as his vision cleared.
“You are turning green.” Ludelle said, cutting her poached egg. The yolk ran down her bread, and the sight churned his stomach.
“I slept poorly is all.”
Ludelle leaned back in her chair. It was just the two of them in the small private dining room connected to her room, with maids coming in and out to serve her breakfast. Balvan would be joining her later to badger her about her Undertaking again, Zimyn supposed.
“You are not fooling anyone with that lie.”
“You want the truth?”
“We have always been honest with each other, Zimyn.” Something about her response seemed accusatory, but he continued because they did prefer honesty, even if he was a liar. Guilt coated his stomach at keeping the truth from her, but he knew it was best that she didn’t know that he would leave. He couldn’t distract her from successfully accomplishing her Undertaking with such an admission.
“I lost a game of cards to my guards. My losing hand earned me a chug of five drinks in under five minutes.” It had taken all his effort to not vomit the contents back up. Waking up this morning had been even harder.
“Ah. A very proper way to spend the night, I am sure.”
He rubbed his temple. “Proper would not be the way I’d put it.”
“And if the castle had been attacked?” she challenged. “How would my drunk Captain of the Guard protect me then?”
He knew it to be a joke, a taunt. They played with each other that way. Throwing their position at each other, a way to tease each other. Zimyn also guessed they used it to keep each other in line. Today, her teasing didn’t hit the same.
“We haven’t been attacked in centuries.”
“Not the point,” she shot back as she stabbed her fork tongs through a piece of sausage.
If she wanted to play, then he could, too. He stepped away from his station at the dining room door and walked closer, one foot in front of the other, not a blip off balance. “Then I would splash some cold water on my face and drag myself to you no matter how much my body fought against it.” His voice lowered, turning rougher. “I’d cut down anyone in my way, ripping each icy scale off my body and throwing them at the enemy until I was just flesh, again, to save you. I’d show everyone in my path exactly why I earned the title of your Captain of the Guard. Then I’d have you freeze their blood as trophies so it would serve as a reminder to everyone roaming these halls of what we are capable of.”
He was now directly on the opposite side of the table, his hands pressing hard into the metal, the cold biting his skin. Ludelle stared him down. Even though she was sitting and he was standing, she still held dominance. A true Queen holding court. Except for the tinge of blue blush on her face.
“Good,” she said simply, going back to her breakfast, but he could tell that his words had rattled her. He meant every syllable. He would fight to the death to ensure her safety. She was his to protect, and no marriage, no distance between them, would ever change that. He would always have ears on the inside of the castle ensuring it.
“Glad we could clear that up.”
“I take it you’re too tired for our training today, then?”
He laughed. “Now you’re just looking for excuses. I am perfectly capable of commanding you around for an hour.”
She grumbled, but didn’t let her annoyance show any further. Ludelle hated training with him just as much as she hated having to choose a husband. Every time she prayed to the Weather Gods, she informed him that she begged for a challenge of the mind as her Undertaking instead of a physical one.
He hoped it, too. That’s where her strengths were. She could run circles around others in any mental game, but a fight of strength would be her doom if she didn’t train for it. Hence the almost-daily training with him. She needed to be equipped to use any weapon: her fists, her surroundings, and anything in between.
She had improved greatly in the years that he’d taken her under his wing, but one could never be over-prepared in these matters. So he pushed her and she let him because she understood the importance of it.
“You have always liked being in control,” she said, her tone turning sultry. Or maybe he was just imagining it, the alcohol still in his head, but the way her eyes had narrowed and honed in on his body made it tighten. “Bossing people around.”
“It makes me good at my job,” he choked out, trying to calm his racing heart.
She hummed. “But what will people think of me when they hear that you ordered around a Queen?”
“The people wouldn’t believe it.”
“Oh?” Her brow arched.
He wouldn’t say it, even if she was goading him. The court knew that she had him wrapped around her sharp fingers, those claws latched onto him years ago. Rumors spread about how deep their relationship ran. He worked overtime to quell them, but Ludelle wasn’t oblivious.
“You should finish your breakfast.” He cleared his throat. They needed to end this before they went too far. “Balvan is waiting for you.”
He could have sworn her shoulders deflated a bit, but she quickly recovered, her disappointment gone in a flash. Her lips tightened and back straightened, her cold front back on.
He opened the door for her, and she didn’t hesitate as she passed through, but the smell of winter honeysuckle and pine lingered in her absence.