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A flicker of some unpleasant emotion flickered over his face, and he shookhis head.

“Is he all right?” Gytha felt a sudden rush of worry.

Magni shrugged one shoulder. He pointed at the table.

The fatigue of travel lingered. Gytha ate slowly, savoring the flavor without thinking much of anything. Her muscles ached, and her mind felt fuzzy and sluggish.

She put her head on the table and drifted into a doze.

Without any warning at all, the queen swept into the room and announced in a ringing voice, “Come, child! I am bored! There will be a banquet tonight!”

Gytha jolted to her feet, startled. “Yes, ma’am.”

The queen looked down her nose at the girl. “You should say, ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ ignorant girl.” Her voice was icy.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Gytha’s voice shook.

“Come along!” The queen swept out of the room, her cloak swirling in her wake.

Her heart thudding, Gytha hurried after her, and Magni followed. The bear joined them a few moments later, padding silently along behind them in the shadowy corridor.

The banquet hall was transformed; rows of tables filled the center of the room while a longer table stood on a low dais at one end of the room. Several dozen servants stood against the walls while other figures found their seats. It was strange to see so many of the ice goblins; for months, Gytha had only seen Magni and the one female servant who prepared her food.

Gytha hesitated at the doorway, and the queen caught her by one wrist and pulled her toward the dais with an iron grip. The girl felt like a leaf on a fast-flowing stream, moving along without any say in where she went, and likely with an unpleasant, tumultuous drop soon.

So many figures moving in utter silence felt like a strange, unpleasant magic, and Gytha’s stomach churned with nerves. The whole room was full of cold, crackling energy, like the feeling of standing on ice that was too thin.

One might plunge into lethal waters with no warning.

The queen nearly threw Gytha into a seat at the table, not the seat of honor but the one next to it. Gytha was still in her nightdress, and this belated realization only made her more uneasy. The dress was warm and modest enough, but surely it was not appropriate for whatever the queen planned. Still, Gytha did not dare mention it, nor voice any other protest.

“Sit.” The queen’s voice rang out like a crack of lightning, and the milling figures all sat hurriedly.

Gytha’s eyes widened as she got a better look at them. All the upturned faces were pale gray or the palest ice blue, with sharp features and clear gray-blue eyes. Their hair was anything from iron gray to white, and some of them hadthingscoming from their heads.

Antlers? Some were so small they looked like the nubs young deer and elk sported in the spring. But others…one near the front of the room had a rack as wide and tall as his arms spread wide, and each point was as sharp as an awl.

Their eyes all fixed on Gytha with sudden interest.

The queen said, “Eat and be filled!” Then she said other things, and Gytha looked up at her in sudden confusion. She felt she ought to understand, but the words were a jumble of sharp sounds that would not resolve into meaning, like bits of broken glass scattered upon snow.

With a clap of her hands, the queen ended her soliloquy, and the feast began. Servants brought course after course of food, and Gytha was served at the queen’s table, as if she were a guest of honor.

The bear stood in one corner, silent and motionless, as if he hoped to become invisible by his stillness. Magni stood not far away.

Gytha felt terribly alone on the dais beside the queen, with her cold eyes and her broken-glass voice. She smiledtentatively at Magni.

His eyes flicked away, and he did not smile back.

The queen followed her gaze.

“Why do you smile at a servant?” The queen’s voice was honey sweet, but so cold that Gytha trembled in sudden fear.

“I…I just wanted to be nice,” she stammered.

“To a servant?” Queen Javethai laughed incredulously, the sound bouncing off the walls. “He is nothing! You will be a princess!” She tapped Gytha under the chin with one cold finger and smiled down at her. Her eyes glittered with anger. “You are a princess,” she repeated, “and should pay no attention to a servant.”

“I’m sorry,” Gytha murmured.