17. Willemite
The morning of the mid-winter feast is cold enough to freeze my toes off. I know because I am currently being led through the snow by two giant warriors. Even with my boots, my feet are numb. It feels like it takes an eternity to make it past the lumber yards and slave pens and reach Rholker’s rooms.
He won’t be there yet.
I remind myself over and over and pat the large pocket in my underskirt that houses the small human skin-bound book, Rholker’s writings, and my jewels.
The preparations for this coronation have been arduous, so much so that Rholker is still stomping around, ensuring every last detail is perfect.
I haven’t seen his scarred face and crooked nose since the library.
In fact, no one has visited me—not even Melisa. The lack of her presence has caused an ache in my sides. She helped me forget the gaping hole in my chest for a few hours, like Arlet once did.
As I walk, something stirs in my chest that sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through my body. Pressing my hand to my chest, the familiar song leaks from the stone and out through my fingers, making my eyes burn.
Teo?
I wince in anticipation of pain that never actually comes. It’s then that my mating melody picks up again.
The air shifts as I gasp, and I can practically smell my mate approach in the distance. I thought that humans wouldn’t have such a strong, animalistic pull to their mates, but the reaction of my instincts says otherwise.
I breathe for a few moments, but the sensation doesn’t intensify.
He’s still far away.
I need to leave before Rholker and his armies can hurt him.
Looking around as we arrive at the palace gardens, I am disappointed that there is no blue-skinned king, only hordes of giant warriors positioned on every corner.
When one catches me staring, I quickly look away.
Rholker must be worried. If his kinghood is not supported, this ceremony could turn into a fight. Depending on how angry the lords are, someone might even try to kill him. All in all, there’s a real possibility that this will be a shitshow of a party.
The biting cold and too-loud crunches of snow beneath my boots soon end as I am taken through the back door and up three sets of stairs to a place I have only been once before.
Rholker’s old room.
The door is still closed, but even seeing it from the hallway causes memories of the night of his engagement to come back. I breathe through each one.
When the door to the former Second Prince’s room is pushed open, I am surprised to see that it has been expanded.
Melisa stands in the middle of the room, clad in her familiar shade of red, waiting with her head bowed. She’s flanked by two women who smile with hardened eyes as the giant holding my leash pushes me in.
I stumble and grab hold of a gilded red chair.
The guards stop at the door. “She must be prepared by the time we come to collect her.”
Then the door is shut tight, leaving the four of us alone together.
“Hola, ?1Melisa,” I say with a smile.
“Estela.” She returns the gesture with a familiar smirk—the kind she shows when the giants leave. “This is Abi—she belongs to Foreman Juan, and Paoli belongs to Lord Rejok. We three met in the breeding pens years ago before we were plucked up by our masters.”
Each of them nods before straightening to stare at me.
“I’m Estela,” I say slowly.
Three comfort women, soon to be joined by myself.
Both of the newcomers are beautiful, but Abi has a scar on the right side of her face that covers her cheek and stretches down her throat. Her full-bodied frame is squeezed into a dress similar to Melisa’s, though it is blue over red. The curves of her hips and breasts accentuate the curve and roll of her belly.
I flinch, picturing how such a scar could be made.
Paoli is silent, but not unpleasant. She looks at me as if she could hear my thoughts, but doesn’t wish to broadcast them—merely to store every secret away forever. Her hair is long enough to graze her bottom, and her cheekbones sit high and sharp on her face.
“I was never sent to the pens,” I say.
“We know, but we won’t hold it against you,” Melisa says. “I personally only participated one round before Eneko came for me and made me take brews to ensure I would never be with child. Not something your Enduares can likely fix, though I am hopeful for Abi.”
Her voice is light, but hope blooms in my chest.
Something tells me that she’s going to come with me when I escape.
Abi smiles as Melisa throws her hand around her shoulders.
“This perfect creature wants all the babies, and her own house, and everything dreamers dream of,” Melisa explains.
Abi glares at her. “Don’t make fun of me. You told me she said there’s such a thing as mates with the trolls.”
“Enduares,” I say, trying not to sound defensive.
Melisa shrugs, but Abi looks at me, her lips twisting downward.
“It all sounds like a fairytale, to be honest. But I can’t help but hope. Juan isn’t cruel to me like some of the other foremen are, and it was a fair trade for the freedom I’m allowed, but I want more,” Abi says.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I say quickly, taking a step toward her. “And, yes. Everything I told Melisa was true.” I look at the other woman, Paoli, and ask, “Did you have a child in the breeding pens? Is your lord cruel to you?”
“We don’t know.” Melisa says.
My eyes don’t leave the silent watcher, but Paoli doesn’t seem like she wants to offer the information.
“We can talk while we work,” Melisa says before guiding me to the polished oak wardrobe with carved images of spear-wielding giants on the doors.
I look around the room and find a sparkling white outfit hanging next to a wardrobe covered in diamonds. The presence of the stones makes my skin itch. It almost looks like?—
“A snow pixie?” I say, turning around. It sounds like a prettier version of the nickname the late First Prince Keksej used for me, tiny flea.
Melisa nods. “He ordered it just for you. Now you get to be his adorable little toy.”
Paoli gives me an apologetic look, then moves her hands rapidly at Abi.
“She wants to know if you can get in the water,” Abi says quickly. Her voice is gentler this time. “Melisa told us you had… issues.”
I ignore the question and look at Paoli, who is expertly avoiding my gaze. It’s not that she won’t speak. It’s that she can’t.
“Did they… ?” I gesture at my tongue, hoping that I wasn’t being too candid.
She nods and opens her mouth, revealing an empty stump at the back of her throat. She makes a sound, and I am stunned.
Tongue removal happened to hundreds of slaves, but Paoli isn’t a disgruntled man. She’s a beautiful woman.
“I’m sorry,” I say, truly meaning it.
She shakes her head and presses a hand to her chest.
I want to ask how it happened, but instead, I gather all my strength and courage and use it to fuel me as I strip off my clothes and get into the tub.
The giants used us for all we were worth. They scarred our backs, our faces, our necks, our tongues, and our hearts. They gifted us to those we never should’ve belonged to.
We just wanted choices. Choices over our bodies and our own lives.
That was all Teo had given me.
I need to find a way for them to have that freedom as well.
While Melisa is washing my hair, Abi shaves my legs with a sharp knife and Paoli polishes my nails.
The touches don’t feel begrudging; they are kind—understanding.
When I meet Abi’s gaze, she pats my knee.
“Try not to move. I don’t want to cut you,” she says.
“Everything you said earlier—You are going to come with us tonight, yes?” I ask.
She worries her lower lip and then nods. Paoli nods, too.
I lean forward, heart racing as they drop their ministrations.
I look back at Melisa. “And you?”
She stares at me without responding. Melisa can joke about coming all she’d like, but I want to hear her say she’d like to come.
“Eneko wouldn’t like it,” she says.
I grit my teeth. Is this the same woman who told me how angry she was days ago? I take her hand.
“None of you have to stay in the under mountain unless you wish it. You don’t have to have a mate unless you wish it. Just, please, come with me.”
Melisa’s face takes on a strange expression. “You are absolutely sure that you are leaving tonight?”
“Yes. Will you come?” I press once more.
The time she takes to respond feels agonizingly long.
“Fine. We will travel through the harrowing cold together, like one little happy family,” she says at last.
My heart soars upward into the skies. I lean forward and hug her, suds and all. She lets out a surprised laugh.
Abi makes a sound. “You moved again! Don’t ruin my masterpiece. You have to be perfect if you want to avoid extra attention. Now, what is the plan?”
I know the look on their faces—it’s the same one that Mikal gave me when we left Zlosa the first time. Pure, bright hope.
It’s a bear sitting on my chest, demanding I succeed because they deserve a better life. Unfortunately, I didn’t succeed before, but I will this time, especially because I can feel Teo’s approach deep in my bones.
I nod once. “Melisa, there are some… items in my dress. Will you bring them?”
“Of course.”
“And you know where Mikal is?” I ask, holding my breath.
She nods as she crosses to the dress. “Yes. He’s near the whipping racks. There’s a prison below.”
I exhale. It wasn’t hard to deduce that he was being tortured, but the confirmation feels like a blow to my gut.
“I think it is best that we leave during the feast, when everyone’s drunk out of their minds. Melisa, meet me outside the kitchens, and you,” I point to the others, “Wait in the trees near the northern steps. Just far enough away from the palace that the guards won’t catch you.”
“And if I bring friends?” Abi says.
I bite my lip. “I can’t plan for them. There are too many unknowns.”
She shakes her head. “Leave it to me.”
“Bring them, but do it safely,” I say, and Melisa’s eyes grow wide.
One day, we’ll come back for the rest. Every last pen will be torn apart.
Melisa is watching me, almost surprised.
I take her hand and look at the others. “Pack any supplies you can carry without getting caught.”
The plan is sealed between us four with whispered words and the excited beating of our hearts. I’ve never known any kind of friendliness like this between laborers. A year ago, I wouldn’t have ever even imagined it.
Soon.
I will be free.
Hope instead of anger sustains me as my hair is brushed, painted, and twisted.
It takes hours to turn me into an almost comical sight. I’m showing far too much skin, but at last, it is done. My dress puffs out around my hips and doesn’t fall lower than mid-thigh. My legs, stomach, shoulders, and arms are bare, save the glittering paint. There is little place to hide anything.
I pull out the labradorite stone, the books, and the jewels, and hold them out to Melisa.
“Can you keep these safe until it’s time to leave?” She nods, taking the items in her hands but I immediately feel the heaviness of the diamonds clinging to my skin. “But wait, I need to bring that gem.”
Melisa eyes the crystal as it shines and glows.I gaze at the shiny surface. My mother gave me that gem in my dream, and the echo of her song still plays in my mind.
“How?” she asks.
“Can we sew it on?” I offer.
Then she sets down the other objects, which both Abi and Paoli are studying, and pulls out a bit of thread. She then ties the stone around the short breast band covered with small diamonds.
It fits in perfectly.
I hug Melisa, counting the seconds until I can get rid of this cursed dress. She turns me to the mirror.
“You’re a superb present for a pompous ass king. Isn’t it such a miserable thing to behold? I hate that they feel entitled to whatever pretty thing sits at their feet. A part of me is sad I won’t be there to witness his rage when he realizes we’ve all gotten the fuck out of this place.” Her expression grows bitter.
“You’re right. And I hate it too,” I say, looking at the glossy sheen of my skin.
Abi steps forward, looking at her scar. “I wish that I never saw my face or knew what beauty I had before… I wish my image was merely a distorted reflection in the river—because then I wouldn’t have to mourn what was lost.”
“You are worth more than what you see when you look in this mirror.” I step forward and push the gilded, polished metal over. It crashes to the ground, denting and distorting in the middle.
“Fuck the giants and their court,” I say, seeing so much more than a pleasing set of eyes and well-combed hair.
I see desperation, passion, courage.
Each emotion licks against my inside. The Fuegorra begins to sing into the air, and the women around me gasp. Despite my fragile, mending mind, my eyes see a flicker of the future with perfect clarity.
Snow. Shiny, armored tails. Metal.
Hope, brilliant and as pure as freshly fallen snow.
The image is interrupted by a knock on the door.
A guard looks between me and the fallen mirror.
“Time to go, whore.”