Page 110
Story: A Lord of Snow and Greed
She led me to the dark corridor we’d rushed down. This time, as I wasn’t running, I took it in with greater detail. Like in the other corridor, all the cells provedempty. Some had caved-in ceilings too.
Why keep anyone down here? If they wished for the prisoners to die, there were many legal ways to do so. To have the ceiling collapse on top of you would be horrible.
We reached the cell Emilia had been visiting, the candle she’d lit still flickering against the iron bars. I peered inside to find a male on the ground, his long, thin legs out in front of him. His clothing was filthy and full of holes. I could only imagine how cold it would be down here with such horrible attire.
He should have been miserable, but when he saw me, his blue eyes lit up. I blinked. He looked so familiar though I couldn’t put my finger on who he reminded me of.
“Karial,” the male rasped. “You’re alive!”
“No, my prince. Karial perished at the hands of an assassin, remember?” Emilia said, her tone softer than before. “This is Princess Isolde, your brother’s daughter.” She eyed me sidelong. “Though she doesn’t yet believe me on that score.”
Prince. His brother’s daughter.
“Prince Calder?” I gasped.
No wonder his eyes struck me as familiar. I’d seen them in the face of King Magnus. And now that I knew who he was, other resemblances stuck out to me. The square jawline. The white hair, though you could only tell by looking at this male’s scalp. Otherwise, the long curtains of his hair were so dirty they appeared almost brown.
“It is me,” the prince replied, still looking at me as though I was a star blazing red in the night sky.
“But everyone says you died in the White Bear’s Rebellion. Like everyone else in your family.”
“Not killed,” Emilia whispered. “They glamoured another to look like my prince and killed that person. Once the gossip spread and no one corrected it, that word became history.”
Prince Calder let out a huff. “Down here, I’m as good as dead.”
“No one has come down here?” I gestured around.
“These are the eastern dungeons. They aren’t stable, and hence, no longer in use, so few come down here to feed my prince or occasionally change his blankets, clothing, and bucket. All of them appear to be under a spell.”
I studied the prince with pity.
“So yes, the king has kept his father down here all these long turns.” She eyed me. “But as we know, there are others in his family who survived.”
Says you.
“Who is Karial?” I asked.
“My younger sister,” Prince Calder replied. “She married into the Royal House of Sahar in the Summer Court when she was quite young, but I was told that Magnus still killed her and her children to exterminate the Falk line.” He swallowed. “Not that the Summer Court could ever prove it, but I am sure that’s what happened.”
My heart clenched for the male in the cage. Living as he did would be difficult enough, but to lose your entire family in the way he had . . . stars. Perhaps it was better that I didn’t know what happened to my family.
“In you, I see much of sweet Karial,” Calder saidsoftly, “though your eyes are your mother’s. Your hair is much like your father’s.”
“I think you two are mistaken,” I said, unable to take the awe and adoration in their eyes. “As much as I’d love to have been born royalty, I was not. I?—”
“What is your magic?” the prince interrupted.
“I don’t know.”
His eyebrows pulled together.
“I—” Stars, I had to tell them about my past. Otherwise, my explanation made no sense. I supposed I had enough leverage to do so, knowing that Emilia fed the prince, and that the prince was even down here. And I didn’t get the feeling they’d tell anyone.
“I grew up as a blood slave in the Vampire Kingdom,” I admitted. “They gave me a potion to nullify the magic in my blood. It lasts a moon cycle and will wear off in three days. But I’ve never known my magic. So, as you can see, I can’t be who you say I am.”
“The Blood Court!” Emilia let out a cry. “Princess, I’m so sorry! We meant to get you to safety, but we failed you!”
“I understand the potion,” the prince said, not bothering to apologize like Emilia. Nor comfort her as he thought something over. “I have ingested it for many turns.” He paused, his face growing serious. “If you have winter magic, and it’s powerful, then you are, most likely, who Emilia says you are.”
Why keep anyone down here? If they wished for the prisoners to die, there were many legal ways to do so. To have the ceiling collapse on top of you would be horrible.
We reached the cell Emilia had been visiting, the candle she’d lit still flickering against the iron bars. I peered inside to find a male on the ground, his long, thin legs out in front of him. His clothing was filthy and full of holes. I could only imagine how cold it would be down here with such horrible attire.
He should have been miserable, but when he saw me, his blue eyes lit up. I blinked. He looked so familiar though I couldn’t put my finger on who he reminded me of.
“Karial,” the male rasped. “You’re alive!”
“No, my prince. Karial perished at the hands of an assassin, remember?” Emilia said, her tone softer than before. “This is Princess Isolde, your brother’s daughter.” She eyed me sidelong. “Though she doesn’t yet believe me on that score.”
Prince. His brother’s daughter.
“Prince Calder?” I gasped.
No wonder his eyes struck me as familiar. I’d seen them in the face of King Magnus. And now that I knew who he was, other resemblances stuck out to me. The square jawline. The white hair, though you could only tell by looking at this male’s scalp. Otherwise, the long curtains of his hair were so dirty they appeared almost brown.
“It is me,” the prince replied, still looking at me as though I was a star blazing red in the night sky.
“But everyone says you died in the White Bear’s Rebellion. Like everyone else in your family.”
“Not killed,” Emilia whispered. “They glamoured another to look like my prince and killed that person. Once the gossip spread and no one corrected it, that word became history.”
Prince Calder let out a huff. “Down here, I’m as good as dead.”
“No one has come down here?” I gestured around.
“These are the eastern dungeons. They aren’t stable, and hence, no longer in use, so few come down here to feed my prince or occasionally change his blankets, clothing, and bucket. All of them appear to be under a spell.”
I studied the prince with pity.
“So yes, the king has kept his father down here all these long turns.” She eyed me. “But as we know, there are others in his family who survived.”
Says you.
“Who is Karial?” I asked.
“My younger sister,” Prince Calder replied. “She married into the Royal House of Sahar in the Summer Court when she was quite young, but I was told that Magnus still killed her and her children to exterminate the Falk line.” He swallowed. “Not that the Summer Court could ever prove it, but I am sure that’s what happened.”
My heart clenched for the male in the cage. Living as he did would be difficult enough, but to lose your entire family in the way he had . . . stars. Perhaps it was better that I didn’t know what happened to my family.
“In you, I see much of sweet Karial,” Calder saidsoftly, “though your eyes are your mother’s. Your hair is much like your father’s.”
“I think you two are mistaken,” I said, unable to take the awe and adoration in their eyes. “As much as I’d love to have been born royalty, I was not. I?—”
“What is your magic?” the prince interrupted.
“I don’t know.”
His eyebrows pulled together.
“I—” Stars, I had to tell them about my past. Otherwise, my explanation made no sense. I supposed I had enough leverage to do so, knowing that Emilia fed the prince, and that the prince was even down here. And I didn’t get the feeling they’d tell anyone.
“I grew up as a blood slave in the Vampire Kingdom,” I admitted. “They gave me a potion to nullify the magic in my blood. It lasts a moon cycle and will wear off in three days. But I’ve never known my magic. So, as you can see, I can’t be who you say I am.”
“The Blood Court!” Emilia let out a cry. “Princess, I’m so sorry! We meant to get you to safety, but we failed you!”
“I understand the potion,” the prince said, not bothering to apologize like Emilia. Nor comfort her as he thought something over. “I have ingested it for many turns.” He paused, his face growing serious. “If you have winter magic, and it’s powerful, then you are, most likely, who Emilia says you are.”
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