14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Kay
E nergy courses through me as I process how close Gerta and I came to certain death. But there’s no time for celebration, because our safety isn’t guaranteed. Neither is our marriage, which I am fairly certain Gerta would rather die than let come to pass. I certainly didn’t ask it from her.
Matrimony for us isn’t even something I have considered— at least not since a fleeting moment in boyhood. I certainly didn’t think Gerta would let the thought cross her mind, except now she is leaning toward me with puckered lips like she means to claim me forever.
Except . . . no official betrothal between us has been announced, so I turn my head. Gerta’s lips graze my cheek.
Considering how cold her lips are and how frozen my face is, the interaction shouldn’t have been anything other than chilly. Yet, it fills me with a strange warmth straight to my core.
Gerta pulls away and nearly topples backward. I have to catch hold of her to keep her from hitting the merciless white wall that would happily consume her. “I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me—”
“Your humours got mixed up in the thrill of the moment,” I assure, my voice coming out smooth despite the fact that even my fingers are twitching from her touch. “It is perfectly natural to feel closer to the one who survived danger alongside with you, and I certainly won’t hold it against when your reason and logic return to you.”
“That’s very generous of you, I suppose.” She creases her brows like she can’t tell if that was an insult or not.
It’s not. I’m not sure I’m even capable of insulting her at this moment. Have her eyes always been so warm and brown?
Clearing my throat, I make sure Gerta is steady before disengaging from our awkward embrace. Then I hand her back her fur cap.
She stares at it for a long moment before putting it on her head.
Backing away, I slide to the back of the wall and glance down at my out-of-joint wrist.
“Does it hurt?” Gerta asks as she carefully slides to sit against the cliff with me. She looks a little nervous to be so close to me, but the other walls are moving, so it’s the best option.
“Not yet.” I uncuff my wrist to prepare for when my body registers pain again. Then, since Gerta can’t exactly go anywhere, I hand her the key next.
She quickly frees herself and then tosses the key into the white wall before I can register the possibility.
I purse my lips, and Gerta grins cheekily. Then she tosses the chain to the edge of our little refuge. It doesn’t get caught in the flow, though, and I grasp her leg before she can kick it.
“We might need that to climb back out,” I say.
Gerta glances down at where I’m grasping her thigh. “Hmph.”
I quickly release her. “Don’t think you can discard me as easily as that key, lassie. You’ll find I’m a bit harder to throw.”
“Please, if I wanted you dead, I’d have sacrificed you to the Snow Queen and saved myself all this unnecessary adventure. ”
Rubbing my wrist that is losing its numbness faster than even my body can heal, I turn to her. “Why didn’t you sacrifice me? You had no qualms putting a knife into me a moment go.” That pain is gone, at least.
Flushing, she glances away. “I told you my code— freedom for myself and others. It would go against my code to sell you into slavery. Of course, it is within the parameters of my creed to defend my own freedom.”
“I am well aware.” Removing the scarf from the stab wound, I see the healed flesh beneath the hole in my tunic. Then I wrap the scarf around my wrist.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” I frown at the awkwardness of trying to tie a sling one-handed.
“Why didn’t you take the simple path and sacrifice me to the Snow Queen?”
“Because my moral code includes avoiding failure. And that means the Snow Queen can’t have you when you’ve been requested by my commanding officer.”
Gerta sniffs at that and then glances at me again. “Do you need help with that?”
I narrow my eyes, not sure if I should trust her when our goals are so misaligned. Even if it is becoming more difficult to imagine a creature so free-spirited as Gerta in one of Commander Muller’s cages. He would have no care for her moral code; his only concern is cold, hard justice.
My prisoner rolls her eyes. “It would be to my benefit if one of your arms was tied up, so you don’t have to worry about this one thing.”
“Somehow, that makes me more worried.” Despite my words, I offer my arm to her .
Gerta straightens out the scarf, wraps it around my wrist, and then moves to clasp it around my shoulder before freezing. Her wide eyes are locked on my healed wound. “H-how?”
“What?” I glance between the gash in my tunic and her. “Do your cuts not heal as quickly? You should try visiting Upper Imparia. The air does wonders to the body.”
For a moment, she just gapes at me. Then Gerta rolls her eyes and playfully punches my thankfully healed shoulder before tying the sling. “You mentioned a Healer Bloodline, didn’t you?”
“You got me. That’s why I was adopted so quickly despite being ‘carved from ice and badly pretending to be mortal.’”
Gerta’s jaw drops gain, and I realize how close her face is as she leans in to tie the sling. Hopefully she doesn’t try to kiss me again, because I might not be able to dodge from this distance.
I might not want to.
Now I’m surprised with myself for thinking about such a thing. It’s perhaps the most illogical notion I’ve ever had.
Gerta finishes tying the knot and moves back to her spot, which still isn’t far enough from me that we aren’t sharing warmth. “I can’t believe you remember that so exactly.”
“Of course, I do. I remember every word from out of your mouth. My Healer Bloodline heals my body but not my soul.”
She just gapes at me, looking unsure if my confession was spoken in jest and reading nothing from my unchanged expression.
I learned long ago that sharing my emotions with others is a dangerous position to be in. And if you cry, your enemies will simply exploit that weakness.
It helps that I do not have many emotions to begin with. As it is, I had to teach myself how to detect them in others long before the Academy trained me how to manipulate them.
Gerta looks like she’s searching for the right words to say. However, the avalanche clears us before she can begin. Sunlight shines in, assuring us that the keeper of the Second Heaven still watched over us even when all we could see was snow, ice, and each other.
Cautiously, I move away from Gerta and peer over the ledge. The avalanche is still tumbling down the cliff to join the layers of snow at the bottom of the mountain. However, down there, it is of no further danger to us.
I turn back to Gerta. “It would seem that we survived the wrath of the Snow Queen.”