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Vidar cocked his head. He’d been watching her from a distance for a long time and had noticed that she didn’t smile. “Why is that?”

“I learned, some while ago, that I’m… I’m quite embarrassed to say this and fear you may not like me as much once you hear it.”

“There is nothing you could tell me that might cause me to like you less. Tell me what troubles you.”

“It seems I’m thought of as lowest ranking among the fae queens. “

“I see. Who is it who thinks this?”

“All magic kind.”

“I’ve not heard this. Obviously, I disagree. Strongly. Are you certain?”

“Yes. I was told by a confidante from the House of Guivre.”

Vidar was a loner and felt out of place in a world where people talk in terms of “confidantes”, but he understood enough to know that people were always plotting and scheming as they vied for positions of greater status and power.

What a waste of time! he thought. Still, if it was a bother to Ilmr, he cared about her feelings.

“And this is a reliable person whom you trust?”

“I do.”

“So, what about this has called you to withhold the beauty of your smile from the world?”

“Well. I suppose it’s… You know. No one wants to be last.”

Vidar looked away, toward the window. From the chair where he sat nothing was visible but sky. It was cloudy, and looked like snow was imminent. The fire popped and hissed. Green wood , he thought.

“I see,” he said, seemingly transfixed by the sight of gray sky. At length, his gaze moved back to Ilmr. “It’s news to me that queens are ranked. I had no idea. So, tell me. What would make you happy?”

Ilmr’s arms circled her middle as she hugged herself and chuckled silently. She was surprisingly thrilled by the simple query. What would make her happy? She doubted that she’d ever been asked.

“Vidar. You are surprisingly and utterly charming. I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question. I’m not sure I’ve ever asked that question of myself!”

“No? Well, it seems to me that’s a good place to start. For instance, would you be happy to simply not be last?”

Ilmr considered that. “I think perhaps I would be happy to not be last.”

“Alright. What’s the most expedient way to improve your status in this contest? I ask the question because I respect your wishes and want you to be happy. But I wouldn’t be respecting myself if I didn’t declare that I also find the entire thing ridiculous.”

That made her laugh again. The sound was magical to her ears.

The feeling was magical to her body. These were Vidar’s gifts to her.

She was quickly deciding that the man sitting across from her was a rare treasure she’d been ignoring as if he were nothing more than a common pebble peeking through the snow on the pathway to her garden.

Perhaps it was ridiculous. Somehow, he managed to say so without making her feel ridiculous as well.

“Ridiculous it might be, but it has robbed me of joy for a very long time. Your question, regarding how one’s star might rise, is both on point and out of my reach.

If I knew how to change it, I daresay I would’ve done so by now.

I honestly don’t know. But it seems to me that the mystical law governing such things suggests that, if one person in a ranking rises, another must fall? ”

“That logic is precisely what I meant when I mentioned expediency. You are right. In order for a person in last place to rise, someone else must take that place.”

“Yes. Someone else must be last.”

“Again, in the interest of expediency, the quickest thing would be to target the person considered first and manipulate an outcome that causes them to be last.” She looked at Vidar anew, as if she hadn’t seen the person she’d asked to lunch and practically invited into her bed.

“So, I could be most useful to you by facilitating such a result?”

“My dear, Vidar, it seems you have a shockingly good grasp. However, your proposal is fatally flawed.”

“How so?”

“The person in first place is Maeve.”

“The Irish queen.”

“Yes. Her status as preeminent among fae queens has been established for long enough to be thought permanent. She’s essentially enshrined.”

“Enshrined,” he repeated.

“Vidar.” Her tone sounded conspiratorial. “You look like you have a secret.”

“Do I? Hmm. Well. I’m hiding no secret, but I’ll say this.

The divine world keeps busy looking for ways to ruin each other and elevate themselves.

In the long ago, I sought my own company in the far north rather than play their games.

I imagine that is why I was given the assignment overseeing the northern hunt. ”

“I admit to wondering how you’re able to spend so much time here. At court. Not that I’m objecting you understand.”

“At this point, things pretty much run on their own. If anything goes out of whack while I’m away, I’ll be found and advised by one of the fates.”

For the first time in her life, Ilmr felt the warm, unpleasant tingle of jealousy. Though fae and humans alike were chronically unhappy with tricks played by the fates, they were renowned for their exotic beauty.

"You’re close to the fates?” Ilmr ventured.

Vidar couldn’t help a self-satisfied smile. He heard the jealousy in her voice and found it an enormously gratifying confirmation that she was interested in him as a male.

“Yes,” he smiled. “From time to time.” His meaning was unmistakable. Ilmr turned her head away. “Of course, none of them comes close to you. They’re merely fates. You’re queen of the northern territories, not to be outdone by anyone.”

His answer was just what she wanted to hear. She gathered a handful of long gold tresses that had fallen forward, tossed them over her right shoulder and sniffed. “Very nice of you to say.”

“Ilmr. I’m not being nice when I say you are the most beautiful woman in the world. I’m being truthful.”

Her eyes slowly tracked to meet his. Her full lips were broadening into a smile when the heavy double doors opened.

“Lunch, Your Highness,” the kitchen butler announced.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Ritgard.”

A complement of staff paraded toward the end of the room reserved for dining. One rolled a cart with vases of fresh flowers. Another cart carried fresh linens and cutlery. One featured iced drinks and wine. Last were three laden with food enough to call lunch a fine feast for twelve.

If someone had been timing the performance, they would have clocked eight minutes from the opening of doors until the kitchen butler pronounced that lunch was served. When they’d disappeared the way they’d come, Kyeya asked, “Will that be all, Your Highness?”

“That’s all, Kyeya,” Ilmr replied. “Be sure we’re not disturbed for the rest of the day.”

When Vidar and Ilmr sat down to lunch, they discovered they couldn’t see each other because of the flowers between them. As they laughed, Vidar rose and moved the vase out of the way.

“Hard to find staff who grasp the importance of detail,” Ilmr said.

“It’s a small thing,” Vidar replied.

They filled their plates in silence. Vidar first reached for a fresh orange. He peeled it, took a section, and hummed as he ate before speaking. “You were saying that Maeve is so entrenched at the top of the hierarchy that she’s believed to be permanently installed there?”

“That’s right. Why? Do you know something I don’t?”

His smirk was just short of being successfully disguised.

It conveyed the truth that he was much older and probably knew many things she did not know.

Smirking at the queen’s remark would normally earn a person centuries in the dungeon, but Ilmr was inclined to forgive.

Partially because it was accompanied by the sexiness of Vidar’s calm, assured masculinity.

“Perhaps,” he said as he took another section of orange and, again, hummed as he ate.

It was a quirky trait that could’ve been off-putting, but seemed charming on Vidar.

“But first, I have a question. What are the typical characteristics of queens with advanced status according to this…” He stopped himself before he said the word silly.

In his young days before he’d sought the refuge and beauty of permafrost, he’d been around people often enough to know that teasing can cross a line and become ridicule.

That lesson was acquired more by painful physical altercations than epiphany.

Along with learning that most people are sensitive to mocking, he learned that assaults on others cause almost as much pain as being the recipient of assaults. “…idea of rank?”

Though Vidar had spent just a short time getting to know Ilmr, he’d learned many things.

Such as that she had a very expressive face.

Her thoughts and emotions could be easily read on her features.

It was an unfortunate trait for a person in politics.

Recognizing how that might hold her back, he made a mental note to work with her on being more enigmatic.

Assuming their relationship lasted for longer than an afternoon.

It was easy for Vidar to see that his question had confused Ilmr. Perhaps she’d not attempted to dissect the problem analytically.

“Look at it this way. What do the two most powerful queens have in common?”

“Oh.” His additional explanation caused the disturbance on her brow to clear so that she once again had the lineless forehead of a sixteen-year-old.

“Well. Let’s see.” She became cheerful at the prospect of identifying qualities shared by the queens who barely deigned to look her way.

“That would be Maeve and Serafina.” She thought for a minute.

“They both have extraordinarily strong magics.”

“Go on.”

“Their territories aren’t bigger than mine, but they are queen to more fae.”

“Alright. Good. Keep going.”

“Maeve is mother to the Irish king, but she ruled first before Diarmuid was coronated. Wait! Diarmuid leads the Wild Hunt, which, as you know, gathers up magic kind from all provinces. Not just Ireland. Naturally, being his mother elevates her.”

“By association.”

“Yes.”