Chapter 9 Neve
I recognize none of the faces that peer back at me in shock. Even as I force my weary body to stand, throwing back my shoulders as I attempt to look unbothered, the wide eyes of the soldier before me belong to a man I know I’ve never met.
How can that be possible? I made sure that I knew every guard, every name.
The watcher before me hesitates, unsure what to do.
He offers me a hand to help me stand, but I shrug it off with a glare.
While I know it’s not fair, and that he’s not doing anything wrong, my hands are starting to shake while a sweat threatens to break through my cool facade.
My shoulder feels torn; I guess it occurred during my strange transfer from where I last was until now, which didn’t get it fixed. No matter, I refuse to show the pain in the wake of uncertainty. I can handle this.
“Take me to the Dowager Queen,” I say, pulling myself up to my full height. I barely scrape five feet on a good day, but that is beside the point.
“Yes, Your Royal Highness. This way, please,” he says, turning to hurry away, quick on his feet.
I find myself sweeping my gaze around the hall, expecting to see Ban, but he’s nowhere in sight.
My mind spins—it’s hard to remember what happened earlier.
Did I really make it all the way down the mountain to collapse inside without being seen?
It doesn’t sound right, but as I step lightly to catch up with the guard, I banish the thought. There are more important things that need my attention, none of which include the mysterious man of my nightmares or the pain in my shoulder.
The main entrance at the front gates is lined with guards just as I remember, which begs the question again: how did I end up lying in an adjacent hall?
I can’t do the trick that Ban does, rematerializing in different spots, and as far as I know, my mother lacks that talent as well.
The entire hallway stiffens as I appear, following in the wake of the frenzied soldier.
I focus on each guard as we make our way down the silent space, their eyes facing forward, not one of them deviating from the frozen stance. It’s almost eerie how silent they are.
Father kept a strict regime when he ruled, ensuring the guards were ready for anything, but not like this. There was life in the men who watched the palace under Father, but these men are so frozen I would believe them statues.
Glancing once over my shoulder, I stare at the far-off gate that leads to the town. It is up, as usual, a true barrier keeping us away from even the nobility of the Frostlands. It doesn’t seem much has changed in my absence.
Two guards with tall, heavy staffs stand at the entrance to the throne room, one on either side of the elaborately carved doors.
This is different from what I remember; there used to only be one guard, and his staff was much thinner than the behemoths the new pair now hold.
Their faces are unfamiliar and unflinching, moving as a unit when they finally speak.
“Presenting Her Royal Highness, Queen Neve Glacia.”
The staffs strike the ground twice in unison, their voices eerily devoid of emotion. They do not turn to address the throne room itself, and I follow my nameless guide into the spacious room.
My steps falter with surprise, my gaze locking on the figure sitting on the throne. My throne.
Is it common for a Dowager Queen to sit on the throne in the Queen’s absence?
Mother finally stands, holding her arms out wide.
I’m surprised by the fluidity of her movement, considering how pained she was the last time we spoke.
Instead of moving like a wooden toy she moves like a person in good health, standing gracefully to smile at me with teeth so white I’m surprised they aren’t capped in snow.
“Darling,” Mother says, her voice sickly sweet. She’s never been a doting parent; this welcome feels uncomfortably forced. “At last, you return to us.”
“At last,” I echo, narrowing my eyes, confused. “Mother, I am surprised to see you on the throne so soon after Father’s passing, while I was away.”
Murmurs break out around us, even among the guards and the attendants waiting in the shadows. I’m stunned by the utter silence thus far, and for just a moment, I see a triumphant look in my mother's gaze before she begins to descend the steps.
There are twelve, which was an arduous task for Mother to complete last I knew. Now she sweeps down them as if she’s suddenly curse-free, her white dress sending snowflakes out from either side of the stairway. It’s a beautiful image, but my eyebrows draw together as I watch.
What trickery is this?
“My queen,” Mother says, curtsying as she reaches the floor. Again, it’s a graceful movement, something I haven’t seen from my mother in years. “I think you are confused, my darling. You’ve been lost to us for the past century.”
Blinking at my mother, I wait for the joke. Surely, surely, she doesn’t expect me to believe such nonsense.
She presses a hand to her chest, despair painting her face, but I can’t help noticing the expression doesn’t reach her eyes.
It all feels a bit too dramatic, having this reunion in front of an audience.
It would be best to step away and speak in private but it’s obvious Mother doesn’t feel that way.
“Oh my. You… you don’t recall abandoning us? ”
The words strike me like a physical blow, and despite my resolve I take a step back. It feels like there’s someone behind me but I know there’s not. Still, I feel a solidity that seems to ground me. “What are you talking about? I was getting ready for Father’s funeral. You and I… We spoke…”
My voice trails off. I’m doing everything wrong. Stuttering in court, mistaking timelines… everything feels jumbled. Clenching my jaw, I refuse to say more. There’s no reason I should be making a fool out of myself.
That’s when I notice two guards wearing tunics of rich blue standing to the side of the throne. I was so distracted when I first walked in here I didn’t notice them right away. I wonder why Mother now has guards so close to her.
“Neve, my queen,” Mother continues, pressing a hand to her chest again as she bows her head. “You’ve had quite an experience, I imagine. How you happened to be here in the palace now, without a single guard noticing your arrival before you were within the walls, it’s such a surprise.”
Her jab isn’t as subtle as she seems to think, and I take a deep breath as my thoughts race. Why is my mother undercutting me right now?
I heard her voice while I slept, so how can she call that abandonment? It’s obvious she knows more than she’s saying but in a sea full of strangers, I don’t think calling her out is wise.
“It was a long journey,” I explain carefully, forcing a smile to grace my lips. “I had to travel from that cabin in the mountains we used to visit when I was a little girl, Mother.”
Her smile sharpens, the fake kindness in her eyes stiffening.
At least I’ve confirmed that she knew about the cabin.
But what in the world is going on here? “Come, my queen, let us get you washed and dressed in something finer than these threadbare linens. We must announce to everyone that the Ice Queen has returned!”
She grips my hands tightly, jumping with joy. I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. On the night of Father’s funeral, she could barely lift her arms. Now she’s jumping?
“Kael, Nyra, let us ensure our queen is properly seen to,” Mother goes on, snapping her fingers at the two people next to the throne.
They hurry forward, and I’m still marveling at the fact that she has enough dexterity in her fingers to snap at all.
“Nyra, Neve’s lady-in-waiting is no longer with us.
You can see to her needs for this evening at least, can’t you? ”
Glancing at Nyra, I have to do a double- take. Is this girl made of snow? Her skin is so white it’s almost the color of fallen powder, and her hair is limp and practically yarn-like.
Something is deeply, deeply wrong here. But I give Nyra a tight smile, glancing at Kael. He seems more normal with a bulkier physique, hair buzzed close to the scalp, and eyes that don’t seem quite so vacant. He still has skin that looks like snow, though.
“My lady,” Nyra says, her voice holding a songlike quality. “Allow me to escort you to your rooms.”
“There will be time to go over everything once you’re refreshed, my queen,” Mother continues, bowing her head.
“Timeline included. Heavens, I almost forgot. We relocated your rooms after your disappearance. Nyra will guide you to the room you had before your coronation. No matter, I’ll see to it that everything is organized tomorrow to get you into the proper place.
After all, the kingdom has waited so very long for our queen's return.”
Everything she says feels like a double-edged blade. For someone who seems to think we haven’t seen each other in years, she’s cold. Frigid, even.
“Mother,” I say carefully, dropping my voice. Nyra’s already turned, ready to lead me away. “When did you last see me?”
Her jaw clenches. “The night before your father’s funeral, of course.”
“And how long ago was that?”
Mother’s eyes dart around, and she must realize there’s no avoiding the answer. Why would she try so hard to hide it? “Your father died one hundred years ago, Neve. You’ve been missing ever since.”
~~~
I let the shock settle over me as Nyra guides me down familiar halls to my old room.
I haven’t been this way in many years according to my mother but to me it feels as if no time has passed.
My area is a large space that takes up a good portion of one wing.
If I didn’t want to leave my room for the day, I could accomplish everything as the reigning ruler from the comfort of my suite.