Page 59
Story: A Lord of Snow and Greed
My nerves mounted. Did I dare? What if this was when I’d pay the price for Anna’s life? I couldn’t see how, but equally so, I knew better than to ignore the voice. I’d made a deal, and if this was my moment to pay up, well, I might be scared, but I’d do so willingly.
So I padded down the hallway in the voice’s direction, sure that when I got to where it wanted me to go, the person, or maybe thething, would let me know.
I reached the end of the hallway, or what appeared to be the end. Perhaps it extended elsewhere in the Aaberg part of the palace, but in the hidden section, there was nowhere else to go. Nowhere but to the right or the left.
One of the doors was ajar, so I took that as a sign and peeked inside.
A vast bedroom spread out before me. I’d only seen one as large and grand inside the palace. It didn’t take a genius to determine whose room I stood in.
Not with the crown of white gold, diamonds, andsnowflakes displayed on a pedestal, sitting on a cushion. Nor with the armor that had been laid on a settee, as if someone had just taken it off. But what gave me the most insight was the painting of a male and female embracing. I’d seen them before, in a family portrait. It had to be the old king, Harald Falk, and Queen Revna. Judging by the size of it and the shape of the armor, this was the old king’s room.
I stepped inside and scanned it, my eyes stopping on a sword glinting in a case. It glimmered prettily; the handle ending in a hawk’s head. An ornate sheath complete with a leather strap to allow the wearer to sling it over their shoulder was also in the case. The whole setup was lovely and impressive but shockingly not very large. Perhaps King Harald had been a smaller fae? I studied the blade and the sheath. It wasn’t even as decorated as some of the swords in Vale’s personal armory. I was at a loss. Nothing in here screamed,look at me.
“Is this the place?”
Turn around.
“All right then.” I padded out of the king’s room and across the hall.
I placed my hand on the door in front of me and paused. The other door had been open, making me certain it wouldn’t lead me to the public part of the palace. But what if this door did? As quietly as I could, I leaned closer to the wood and listened. No sound came from the other side so I pushed the door open.
The room I entered was lush and spectacular, at least three times the size of Vale’s quarters, which were quitelarge indeed. Larger than the other room I’d seen, larger than King Magnus’s chambers.
I lingered in the antechamber, a sitting area of sorts, taking a moment to look around. A library sprawled to my right, while a seating area complete with six armchairs and two settees, all in shades of glittering silver, sprawled across the central part of the room. To my left were three doors. I veered that way, opening the first to find a bathroom as opulent as the rest of the room, but still, only a bathroom. I shut the door and moved on to the next one. Behind it stretched a closet half the size of the main room.
Marvel clouding any hesitancy I’d been clinging to, I ventured deeper into the closet, eyeing the lovely gowns hanging from silver rods and the jewelry glittering on a pure amethyst table that dominated the center of the room.
Stars alive! The jewels in here were beyond stunning, larger than any I’d seen at court too. I picked up a circular brooch that featured a white stone in the center. It was veined with red and gold lines that danced as I stared at them.
I sucked in a breath, remembering the night of the Courting Festival’s opening ball. Recalling speaking to Lord Riis. He’d mentioned a gem that would fit this name.
A phoenix opal.
I studied the stone more closely. Yes, it looked like an opal. And the red and gold veins brought to mind fire, especially as they appeared to move, like a flame would in the wind.
Queen Revna had possessed one. Lord Riis had told me he’d sold it to her. That they were very, very rare.
Was this the old queen’s chambers? It would make sense with this suite being right across from what I was sure was the old king’s rooms.
Slowly, I set the gemstone down. Then, reconsidering, I picked it back up and put it in my pocket. No one would miss it, and I wanted to compare the stone to images to see if I was right.
My gaze drifted to the gowns hanging from silver rods. Moon above, what I wouldn’t give to take one of those too. Though I was no longer unfamiliar with wearing finery, I’d rarely gotten to wear something so fine that was to my taste. These, though outdated, were exquisite.
The color palette of amethyst and a blueish silver. The silver struck me as perfect, like the craftsmanship of the gowns. Lovely beading. Fine lace. Sparkling gems dotting necklines and wrists. Queen Revna must have been a fashion icon in her day.
If this is even really her room.I peered around for more hints and found none that would identify the queen. Not even a single crown or tiara. Where would she keep those?
Perhaps behind the third door, which I assumed was her bedroom?
I left the grand closet and opened the last door to find that I was right. The queen’s bedroom spread out before me, at least twice as large as the bathroom and closet combined. A bed dominated the far wall, and on either side of the bed hung individual portraits of the queen’s family members.
Their sons appeared much more animated in these portraits, more fun. But the portraits also showed two children I had yet to find a clear image of, largely because they’d been portrayed as swaddled babes in all the other family portraits.
In this one, however, they were girls, very small, nearly bald girls. The last born to the king and queen, if my memory of Clemencia’s lessons served me. In this painting, they had to be around one turn of age. They wore the cutest dresses and held hands as they toddled away from the viewer. My heart warmed at the image.
What were their names again? Clemencia had taught me, but that felt like an age ago. And even when I’d been learning them, Clem agreed that the names of the dead princes and princesses were less important than those of the living nobles I’d be interacting with. I wished I could recall and made a note to look that up too when I searched for images of phoenix opals.
I decided to move on, to take in the rest of the room, when a sound of wood scraping against wood caught my ear. I searched for it, found a small desk on the far side of the room, and watched the middle drawer move open of its own accord.
So I padded down the hallway in the voice’s direction, sure that when I got to where it wanted me to go, the person, or maybe thething, would let me know.
I reached the end of the hallway, or what appeared to be the end. Perhaps it extended elsewhere in the Aaberg part of the palace, but in the hidden section, there was nowhere else to go. Nowhere but to the right or the left.
One of the doors was ajar, so I took that as a sign and peeked inside.
A vast bedroom spread out before me. I’d only seen one as large and grand inside the palace. It didn’t take a genius to determine whose room I stood in.
Not with the crown of white gold, diamonds, andsnowflakes displayed on a pedestal, sitting on a cushion. Nor with the armor that had been laid on a settee, as if someone had just taken it off. But what gave me the most insight was the painting of a male and female embracing. I’d seen them before, in a family portrait. It had to be the old king, Harald Falk, and Queen Revna. Judging by the size of it and the shape of the armor, this was the old king’s room.
I stepped inside and scanned it, my eyes stopping on a sword glinting in a case. It glimmered prettily; the handle ending in a hawk’s head. An ornate sheath complete with a leather strap to allow the wearer to sling it over their shoulder was also in the case. The whole setup was lovely and impressive but shockingly not very large. Perhaps King Harald had been a smaller fae? I studied the blade and the sheath. It wasn’t even as decorated as some of the swords in Vale’s personal armory. I was at a loss. Nothing in here screamed,look at me.
“Is this the place?”
Turn around.
“All right then.” I padded out of the king’s room and across the hall.
I placed my hand on the door in front of me and paused. The other door had been open, making me certain it wouldn’t lead me to the public part of the palace. But what if this door did? As quietly as I could, I leaned closer to the wood and listened. No sound came from the other side so I pushed the door open.
The room I entered was lush and spectacular, at least three times the size of Vale’s quarters, which were quitelarge indeed. Larger than the other room I’d seen, larger than King Magnus’s chambers.
I lingered in the antechamber, a sitting area of sorts, taking a moment to look around. A library sprawled to my right, while a seating area complete with six armchairs and two settees, all in shades of glittering silver, sprawled across the central part of the room. To my left were three doors. I veered that way, opening the first to find a bathroom as opulent as the rest of the room, but still, only a bathroom. I shut the door and moved on to the next one. Behind it stretched a closet half the size of the main room.
Marvel clouding any hesitancy I’d been clinging to, I ventured deeper into the closet, eyeing the lovely gowns hanging from silver rods and the jewelry glittering on a pure amethyst table that dominated the center of the room.
Stars alive! The jewels in here were beyond stunning, larger than any I’d seen at court too. I picked up a circular brooch that featured a white stone in the center. It was veined with red and gold lines that danced as I stared at them.
I sucked in a breath, remembering the night of the Courting Festival’s opening ball. Recalling speaking to Lord Riis. He’d mentioned a gem that would fit this name.
A phoenix opal.
I studied the stone more closely. Yes, it looked like an opal. And the red and gold veins brought to mind fire, especially as they appeared to move, like a flame would in the wind.
Queen Revna had possessed one. Lord Riis had told me he’d sold it to her. That they were very, very rare.
Was this the old queen’s chambers? It would make sense with this suite being right across from what I was sure was the old king’s rooms.
Slowly, I set the gemstone down. Then, reconsidering, I picked it back up and put it in my pocket. No one would miss it, and I wanted to compare the stone to images to see if I was right.
My gaze drifted to the gowns hanging from silver rods. Moon above, what I wouldn’t give to take one of those too. Though I was no longer unfamiliar with wearing finery, I’d rarely gotten to wear something so fine that was to my taste. These, though outdated, were exquisite.
The color palette of amethyst and a blueish silver. The silver struck me as perfect, like the craftsmanship of the gowns. Lovely beading. Fine lace. Sparkling gems dotting necklines and wrists. Queen Revna must have been a fashion icon in her day.
If this is even really her room.I peered around for more hints and found none that would identify the queen. Not even a single crown or tiara. Where would she keep those?
Perhaps behind the third door, which I assumed was her bedroom?
I left the grand closet and opened the last door to find that I was right. The queen’s bedroom spread out before me, at least twice as large as the bathroom and closet combined. A bed dominated the far wall, and on either side of the bed hung individual portraits of the queen’s family members.
Their sons appeared much more animated in these portraits, more fun. But the portraits also showed two children I had yet to find a clear image of, largely because they’d been portrayed as swaddled babes in all the other family portraits.
In this one, however, they were girls, very small, nearly bald girls. The last born to the king and queen, if my memory of Clemencia’s lessons served me. In this painting, they had to be around one turn of age. They wore the cutest dresses and held hands as they toddled away from the viewer. My heart warmed at the image.
What were their names again? Clemencia had taught me, but that felt like an age ago. And even when I’d been learning them, Clem agreed that the names of the dead princes and princesses were less important than those of the living nobles I’d be interacting with. I wished I could recall and made a note to look that up too when I searched for images of phoenix opals.
I decided to move on, to take in the rest of the room, when a sound of wood scraping against wood caught my ear. I searched for it, found a small desk on the far side of the room, and watched the middle drawer move open of its own accord.
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