Chapter 3
Kai’s Ascension feast becomes a funeral fast.
Though my wounds sting, it feels self-absorbed to worry about them.
“They’re only scratches, Nana.” Perched on the edge of my tiny bed, I let my grandmother gently wipe away the blood with a warm cloth. Sadness sinks into me. Kai’s father and brothers, all dead. I cannot fathom this calamity.
His reaction chills and puzzles me. Kai never coveted the throne. He loved his family.
“Even a small cut can scar.” Nana leans in to dot salve on my face that smells like lemons and honey. “You have your mother’s looks. Let’s not ruin them. Gods know you have no other advantages in life.”
“Why didn’t you marry Grandfather?” The beer must still have a hold on my tongue. I would never have asked such a question otherwise.
“I couldn’t,” she answers tersely.
“Why not?”
“He was rich and titled. I wasn’t.”
“But you loved each other.”
She sets aside the salve with a sigh. “Love is not the answer to all of life’s problems, Gwen. If anything, it causes more problems than it solves.”
“Any man who values wealth over love isn’t worth having,” I declare.
“A conclusion I also arrived at, a few months too late. I was already pregnant with your father.” Nana studies my face. Satisfied, she sits back in the rickety wooden chair she pulled over. “You come from a long line of people who yearn for more than they can have in life.”
She’s trying not to speak poorly of my mother.
My father was enamored of a highborn lady, too.
She loved him enough to elope with him, but when her parents cut her off, she regretted losing her life of luxury and left us.
She died in disgrace a few years later. Papa died of a broken heart not long after. He always hoped to win her back.
Even as a little girl, I never felt like I was good enough to deserve anyone’s love.
That didn’t stop me from wanting it. When I was six, Nana brought me to live with her in the servants’ dormitories at Montrace Castle.
Kai’s childhood room happens to overlook the window box where Nana taught me to grow flowers.
That’s how we met. On rooftops, tending a window box of roses. I fell in love with him so young that there has never been space for another to take root in my heart.
I stare blankly at them now, pondering the way we parted. Disturbed by the abrupt change in him.
“The two of you were bound to grow apart eventually,” Nana says sympathetically. “A friendship between a girl and a boy never lasts. He will have even more responsibilities once he is crowned.”
With his father and brothers buried, it will only be a matter of time before the burden of kingship he never wanted will fall upon his shoulders.
“I will always be Kai’s friend. I know he will have to marry someone else, but he’ll still be my Kai.”
“You cannot make him into your sun and revolve around him for the rest of your life, Gwen. You have to find your own way.”
I have found my way. I love Kai. The only questions are whether he desires me the same way I want him, and what we do after that.
After today, I’m sure the answer to the first question is yes.
He came so close to kissing me. The way he asked, with that slight hitch, is proof that he meant it romantically.
Isn’t it?
“If I have to wait for him, then I will wait for him.” There has to be some way for us to be together, even if I can’t see a path forward right now.
Nana sighs. “Stubborn,” she says, and busses a kiss to my bandaged forehead. “You are worthy of real love, Gwen. The kind where people fight for one another. Never forget that.”
By the next morning, my face, arms, and legs are crisscrossed with scabbed scratches. The one by my hairline is the worst. It’s hard to believe a tiny snowflake could cause such a deep wound.
Snow bees. That’s what The Snow Queen’s magic ice knives were called in the fairy tale.
Yesterday, I would have sworn they weren’t real, but after having seen the king’s body bled dry, and the three oldest princes’ blood pooling at their boots, I wonder.
I haven’t explored the world beyond these castle walls.
I have seen fae emissaries from elven and dwarven realms, but mostly, the fae keep to themselves and avoid humans.
Whether it’s the beer or my injuries, my temples throb every time I move my head, which makes it easy to justify loafing around in bed while Nana is working in the kitchens.
The second day is more difficult to defend. I can’t explain the lethargy that’s taken over me. Nana casts me a disapproving glance but doesn’t order me to get up.
Kai doesn’t come to inquire about me. I while away the hours wondering when he will come to ask how I fare, but by the third day, I’m frustrated enough to fight my way out of the bed and throw open the window. The endless summer of Montrace greets me with a light rain.
“A sprinkling is good for you,” I tell my flowers, touching one soft petal, and freeze at the sight of my skin, now marred with white streaks.
Dread pools in my stomach. I rush to the dresser with its cracked mirror and stare at my reflection in horror.
My face, throat, and bosom are covered in thin, pale scars. Worse, the wound at my hairline has turned one strand pure white.
Nana comes in at that moment. I whirl away from the mirror and bury my face in my hands. “Don’t look.”
“It’s not so bad.” The sympathy in her voice means it’s worse than I feared. A sob breaks out of me. My grandmother is unmoved. “Gwen, you have a visitor. It’s Kai.”
“He can’t see me like this.” Our tiny apartment has only two rooms. He must be waiting in the shabby living area. I didn’t hear him knock, I was so distressed. He almost never comes here. We only meet in public.
“Pull yourself together, Gwendolyn. Get dressed. I’ll braid your hair. The white streak is charming in its way.”
“Nana, I don’t want to be white-haired before I even come of age!”
“It’s only Kai, Gwen.” She turns her back to give me a bit of privacy.
I thrust my arms into a long-sleeved, high-necked dress, and tie an apron around my waist to try and give its sack-like form a hint of shape. This used to be my least favorite of the few humble dresses I own. Suddenly, I can’t ever imagine wearing anything else.
I smooth my skirt with damp palms and move out into the main room where Kai’s presence fills the small space. He’s garbed in mourning, all black except for the deep gray surcoat emblazoned with the Montrace crest. He looks…regal.
There’s no sign of my sweet friend.
“I came to check on you,” he says without preamble. “My mother insisted.”
His mother sent him? A queen mourning the loss of her entire family thought to check on me, but my closest friend didn’t?
The queen of Montrace doesn’t know me well enough for his explanation makes the slightest bit of sense.
Perplexed, I move over to the window and close the curtain.
I didn’t give Nana a chance to braid my hair.
It hangs limply over my face, further shielding my appearance from his scrutiny.
“It was kind of her to think of me. Please convey my condolences.” Never, in over a decade of friendship, has our conversation felt so distant and awkward. “Are you all right, Kai?” I ask hesitantly.
“Fine. My mother is sending me out as planned. She says we need allies more than ever. She wants to reign as regent in my absence.” Contempt sounds foreign on his lips. Puzzled, I tip my face up. My hair falls back. Kai recoils.
“What in the underworlds happened to your face?”
Shocked by his language, I blurt out, “The snow bees attacked me.”
He’s never sworn in front of me before. I overheard him use that kind of language during his sparring sessions, but he was always careful not to curse around me.
He scoffs. “The flakes cut me, too, but not like that. Gods, you’re hideous. Let me see.”
All the air rushes out of my lungs. If he’d punched me, I would have been less surprised. I’m slow to react when he grabs my chin, not gently, the way he did before, and yanks the curtain aside.
“Shit,” he breathes as the light shafts across my face. It cuts a path across his features, too, highlighting the shiny dot in his iris.
We stand like that until I flinch away.
“What happened to your eye?” I ask him with my back turned.
“My eye is fine,” he says defensively.
“It’s different. There’s a silver speck.”
“Cosmetic. The ice hit me in the eye, and I suppose it turned a spot white the same way it did to your skin. But why did the flakes only cut you, and not me?”
And your father. Your brothers. I wasn’t the only one who suffered an attack. But why would that wild storm attack all of the male members of the royal family, and me?
Why not Kai?
Why not the queen, his mother?
Nothing makes sense—especially my friend’s sudden callousness. “They weren’t snowflakes. They were ice knives, like the ones that killed the trolls in the story.”
Kai scoffs. “Grow up, Gwen. The Snow Queen isn’t real.”
His boots thud on the bare wooden floors. He slams the door hard enough to make it tremble on its hinges.
Nana comes out of the bedroom and says cautiously. “That did not sound like our Kai.”
I give her a beseeching look as tears well in my eyes. Her features blur. Her arms open. I rush into her embrace with a broken sob.