Chapter Forty-Four Samira
FORTY-FOUR SAMIRA
When we eventually arrived in Frostguard two days later, Siv took one look at my limp and turned into a fussing hen. She moved quickly, disinfecting and stitching my ankle before checking my shoulders, which had healed some over the past few days. Still, I was grateful for the numbing salve.
After Siv left, I hobbled to the mirror.
The girl looking back was me, but not. My cheeks no longer caved in, my collarbones no longer jutted out of my skin, and I thought with a few more well-seasoned meals, I might even have curves.
But like always, the green runes, stark against my tan forehead, pulled all my attention.
I ran my fingers over their shapes. It was like they had always been a part of me. Smooth and even, no sign of that strange glow. And no tingling.
With a sigh, I lowered myself into a chair, intent on thinking over everything that had happened in the past few days.
I waited for feelings of guilt or horror to bubble up at my blasphemous thoughts about the Gods-Chosen, but they never came.
All I felt was hollow. The empty center of a reed stalk just one harsh gust away from snapping.
Someone cleared their throat.
I jolted awake. I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep, but I must’ve been there awhile, because my neck ached from the odd angle, and someone had draped a blanket over me.
When I lifted my head, Keir stood in my doorway.
Instantly, I was thrown back to the night of the Lunar Feast. It felt so long ago now, and yet, I could still hear his gravelly voice in my ear as he’d buried his nose against my neck, his fingers flexing against my hips, his hard length digging into my back.
The heat that had bloomed in my stomach, that had settled between my legs.
His lips tipped up in a knowing smirk that made the tops of my ears burn. But he only said, “I have a message.”
No apology for waking me. No explanation for his behavior at the Lunar Feast—or his subsequent absence. I tried not to let it bother me. “From Rade?”
“Obviously,” he said, and I bristled, heat banking. “The king has decided that you will dine with the Seven once you’ve recovered.”
“What? Why?”
“Ask him yourself.” And he left. Just like that.
Gods, he was infuriating. The new moon must have been an exception. But sit through a whole dinner with him? Maybe it was time for me to start praying again.
I stood outside Shifters’ Lodge and fisted my hands at my sides.
I’d managed to put the dinner off for several days, hiding out in my cabin as my wounds slowly healed.
But by the fifth day, it was obvious to Siv that I was well enough to walk on my own, and she told Rade as much.
The dinner couldn’t be avoided any longer.
Rade had said this dinner was to help me connect with the Seven, to let them get to know me, so they would accept me as their queen once the Merging was over.
I’d done my best to weasel out of it, but I couldn’t very well say it wouldn’t matter if they accepted me since I wouldn’t survive the last trial.
With a deep breath, I pushed open the heavy oak door to Shifters’ Lodge.
It was filled with children.
I stared in stunned silence as they ran past me, chasing each other and giggling. I recognized them from Netherridge. The older townsfolk sat at the long table, or on the extra cots that had been moved in to accommodate them all.
“Queen Amunet!” I turned just in time to see Milena come barreling toward me. She slammed into me hard enough to knock the wind out of me, my still-healing leg giving an angry throb, which I ignored as she wrapped her arms around my waist. “You’re back!”
I chuckled softly and hugged her. “What’s going on? What are you all doing here? Where are the Seven?”
“We were moved here while you were gone.”
“Really?” Rade and I had spoken about Netherridge and the Shroud a few times on our journey, and I’d mentioned the unfit conditions of the tent, but he hadn’t told me he’d already seen to it. Though I shouldn’t have been surprised.
Milena nodded. “The warrior said we’d like it here, and he was right. It’s a lot better.”
I frowned. “Which warrior?”
“The really big one with the runes on his neck.”
Keir. “Well,” I said, surprise evident in my voice, “that was nice of him. Where is he now?”
“The Seven switched with us! They’re in the tent.”
Keir had moved them all to that small, frigid tent?
It was… uncharacteristically kind. Although, as I thought back to his drumming at Hedin’s pyre, his pleading for his people before the Lunar Feast, the kefir with honey, I thought perhaps it wasn’t so uncharacteristic. A smile hovered over my lips.
I gave Milena another hug and stepped back into the night’s chill.
Even from several yards away, I could hear the Seven. Their laughter and chatter practically boomed out of the thin fabric walls. I steeled myself and pushed the flap aside.
Warmth was the first thing I noticed. It had been a glacier when I’d visited Milena, but now it was toasty, as if there had been a fire burning all along. But there wasn’t one.
The second thing I noticed was the distinct smell of kefir.
The Seven were sprawled in various positions.
Velka lay on her back, a tankard in her hand, cackling at a joke Dalla had just told.
Cano giggled beside them, while Sillia leaned against the pole holding up the tent, large arms crossed over her chest, a small smile on her face.
Senko of Crestbane sat separate from the others.
He kept a bland smile on his face if only to look like he was part of the group, but it was obvious he was on his own.
Keir was on one of the cots beside Bain, whose jaw had fully healed. Neither of them bothered to look at me. They were too busy chuckling together. Clearly, what had happened at the Lunar Feast was behind them.
I should’ve thanked Keir for standing up for me. But between his aggravating behavior and my trek through the White Horns with Rade, it had slipped my mind.
“Your Majesty!” Velka exclaimed much too loudly as she staggered to her feet. “We’re so glad you came!”
“Thank you for having me,” I replied stiffly.
Velka threw her arm around my shoulders and whisper-shouted in my ear, “Sit by me.”
I didn’t even have the chance to respond before she yanked on my arm. I dropped onto the pile of hay beside her, trying and failing to swallow my wince as the movement pulled at the still-tender wounds in my leg and shoulders.
“Oh gods, I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” Velka gushed.
“It’s all right. I’m fine.” I shifted to get comfortable. Despite Velka’s drunkenness, I was grateful she was there. Especially when I glanced around the room and found only one other smile sent my way, from Cano.
“Hey, Your Majesty,” Bain called from his spot on the other side of the tent—not far enough to warrant a shout. “You ever try moose?”
“Excuse me?”
“Moose,” he repeated, and I just stared. “As in, the animal?”
“Oh. You mean—you mean have I eaten moose?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Keir snorted into his cup. I gritted my teeth as my shoulders drew up. Keir could be kind; he could also be a complete bastard.
We didn’t have moose in Ashorah. There was no reason I should have tried such an animal—never mind on a slave’s limited menu. Still, I felt as if I’d failed some test.
“We’re eating it tonight. You’ll like it,” Velka said quickly. “In fact, I’ll go get it.”
I snatched her wrist as she stood. I didn’t bother whispering, knowing every single Shifter in this tent would hear me, but I hoped the desperation in my eyes conveyed, Don’t go.
“I’ll be quick,” she assured me before stumbling out of the tent.
Throat dry, I turned back to the pack. They were suddenly all very silent, watching me, yellow eyes bright as stars. Predators observing prey. It made the hair on my neck stand up, and suddenly I was in Amunet’s room again, surrounded by the monsters of every scary story I’d ever been told.
I coughed awkwardly and ventured, “Thank you for letting the others use your lodge.”
Keir’s gaze was made of stone, offering absolutely no insight. None of the Seven said anything, either, letting the silence gather weight. I clenched my hands so tight, my knuckles turned white.
I couldn’t understand how this could be the same man who had sacrificed the comfort of his lodge for strangers—or how this could be the same man who had cradled me against his chest and looked at me with irises made of heat and want.
Now he looked at me as he had that first night by the Frozen Sands. With disdain.
It bothered me that it bothered me.
Come on, Velka. Hurry up.
Sillia suddenly said, “My niece told me you were worried for the Nettheridgers.” Her niece, Siv. “Why?”
“Because they were cold and scared,” I answered honestly. “It’s not so cold in here anymore, though.”
Bain replied, “Shifters run hot.” He waggled his eyebrows, making nearly all the Shifters chuckle. My gaze inadvertently slid to Keir. He raised a single brow at me, and my face burned. I swiftly looked away.
“Where are our manners?” Keir said. He grabbed a tankard that was already full and held it out to me. “For you, Majesty.” He passed it down the line until it reached me. I accepted it and took a sip.
It was rancid. Like curdled milk. Sour and bitter, stinging the back of my throat. It took every shred of strength not to choke. My eyes watered slightly and I gulped it down hard. “Delicious,” I croaked.
“No, it’s disgusting,” Cano corrected.
“Pure filth,” Dalla agreed.
“Hey!” Bain gave everyone a mock glare. “I spent five weeks on that batch.”
“Should’ve made it six,” replied Senko, cringing as he took another sip. Keir laughed.
Bain turned to Sillia. “Your taste is much better than these rats’. What do you think?”
“Last time I drank one of your concoctions, I had diarrhea for a week,” the warrior deadpanned. “I’m not touching it.”
I couldn’t help but grin, relaxing a bit—though I didn’t take another sip of Bain’s kefir.
Velka mercifully returned with a large plate of meat. A loud cry of celebration rose from the group, and Keir snatched the dish and yanked a dagger out of his waistband to carve it. He passed out massive hunks, which everyone accepted with their bare hands.
Moose tasted remarkably similar to cow, if a little gamier, and whatever spices had been added made it rather pleasant.
Velka pulled her piece apart. “What’d I miss? Did you already tell them about your khopesh, Your Majesty?”
“What khopesh?” Keir asked.
Velka hooked her thumb at me. “The queen’s weapon of choice.”
“You are trained with a battle-axe?” demanded Dalla, impressed despite herself.
“Bullshit,” Keir laughed before I could respond. I struggled to meet his eyes.
“It’s true,” Velka answered for me. “Rade told me himself.”
“Well, Rade is mistaken,” Keir fired back. “I know a warrior when I see one. Sorry, Majesty, but you’re not one.”
My heart rate started to pick up even as Velka persisted, “Rade said she’s got the calluses to prove it.”
Sillia strode toward me suddenly, and I tensed when she dropped into a crouch and seized my wrists. She turned my palms over and frowned. “A queen’s hands should be smooth. No matter the training. A mark of your luxury.” Her grip on my wrists tightened, and I winced. “So why do you have calluses?”
“Because I—I trained hard—”
“They wouldn’t have let you. Not this hard.”
Velka was suddenly at my side. “Sillia, let her go.”
But she didn’t. The blaze of her eyes bore into my face.
This was how I’d be found out. By one stupid, insignificant lie.
I thought about the promise I’d made to myself to fight back against Keir, but I couldn’t muster up any indignation or anger.
Not when I was surrounded by Kaldfold’s deadliest Shifters.
My eyes flicked to Bain. He’d planned Hedin’s death for whatever betrayal he’d committed.
If they discovered mine, they’d think up something much worse. Oh, gods.
“Rade said she’s not to be harmed,” Velka reminded, her voice a warning growl.
“Sister,” Cano said softly, putting his hand on Sillia’s shoulder, “stand down.”
Her grip on my wrists tightened further, making my bones groan.
“It’s an easy enough thing to sort out,” Keir said, and Sillia glanced at him over her shoulder. He got to his feet, the torchlight flickering menacingly over the tattoos on his jaw. “Let’s get the queen a battle-axe.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Absolutely not,” Velka said.
“Keir.” Senko stepped in front of him. “No.”
“You’ve been here five minutes,” Bain snapped. “You don’t get a vote.”
“I’m not going to hurt her.” Keir rolled his eyes. “Just see what she’s made of.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Bain agreed.
“Shut it, Bain,” Velka bit out.
“What? I’ll even let her use mine.”
“Even if this wasn’t incredibly inappropriate, the queen is injured. It wouldn’t be a fair fight, Keir, and you know it.”
“So I’ll go easy,” he countered.
Velka bared her teeth at him. “That’s not the point—”
Sillia stepped forward again, and the tent fell silent. She might be Fourth now that Senko had officially been appointed above her, but her commanding presence was respected by all. She pulled an axe from her waistband and thrust it toward me. An order.
I stared at the weapon, struggling to control my breathing. I’d never even held a weapon before. I wouldn’t win a fight against a fly, let alone Keir.
But when I looked up into Sillia’s dark face, craning my neck against her enormity, my throat closed up, and I found myself reaching for the axe.
Keir grinned. “Excellent.”