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“Why didn’t you say anything to me for so long?” The deadly chill of Alexander’s hands sucked the warmth from Gytha’s fingers, but she did not pull away from him. She looked at his face and then back at the ice goblin king expectantly.

The king hesitated and then inclined his head in apology.

“I was young when the queen took power, and she had not seen me in years.

For many years, I watched and waited, avoiding her notice.

I knew the bear prince was mistreated, but I did not know how badly.

I volunteered to guard your prison for that year, knowing that it would take me out of the city she seemed to own.

“When I presented myself to her, I disguised myself, for I did not trust that she would not think evil of me and try to kill me. Dakjudr, loyal and courageous as she is, followed me in this, though I did not ask or expect it. Javethai did not recognize me, but she required a vow that neither of us speak a word to either you or the bear prince.” He showed his teeth in another cold smile.

“I was careful with my words; I vowed to not speak to you as long as I served the queen. I said it with such meekness and sincerity that the queen did not realize that when I decided not to serve her ends, the vow would lose its power over me.”

Arenenak and Wirkelshen erected another fabric wall beside the first at an angle and stretched a cloth over the top.

Within minutes, the air grew warm enough for Gytha to notice the difference. She let down the hood of her coat. The air was chilly, but no longer dangerous to her bare skin. This warmth after so long in the lethal cold felt like a gift.

The ice goblin king sighed. “I should have done more for him, but I did not know how to break the queen’s hold on him, and I did not know whether I might not make things worse for us all.

And I was afraid.” He looked up to meet Gytha’s eyes.

“I thought my cowardice was prudence and my inaction was patience.

But you waited in hope and courage, rather than merely mute endurance .

“The more I think of you claiming me as a friend, the more I am pleased by it.” He smiled again, his silver-blue eyes holding hers.

A soft, pained breath caught their attention, and they looked at Alexander. The bear prince drifted toward awareness.

“Alexander,” Gytha said.

He blinked, still dazed, and then he saw Eshkeshken, and a shudder went through him. “Don’t hurt her,” he croaked. He struggled to sit up, and Gytha put her arm around him.

“Why would I hurt her?” Eshkeshken’s gray brows lowered in a frown.

Alexander’s eyes darted around the room, wide and cautious. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I thought…I didn’t recognize you.”

Eshkeshken inclined his head solemnly. “When you are well enough to travel, I will send you home. You are no longer a prisoner here, but a guest. You will have food to strengthen you and clothes to warm you, and if there is any other way I might aid your healing, please be bold in your request.”

Alexander nodded. His voice was rough with fatigue when he said, “Your magic is strong, Your Majesty.”

The goblin king smiled a little. “Yes. Now it is strong. It was not before.”

“Thank you.”

“How badly did Javethai hurt you?” Gytha asked Alexander.

“I did not count the beatings. I forgot to care about the hurt. Is it really pain if it doesn’t trouble me?

” Alexander struggled up to sit with his elbows on his knees.

His voice was so soft and weary that Gytha barely heard him.

“If I ceased to care about myself entirely, then she had no power over me. No threat of pain, no twist of magic, nothing she could do was worth forfeiting my honor. ”

Gytha said quietly, “ I care about your pain.”

He hesitated before he looked up. “You don’t have to marry me, Gytha,” he said softly.

“You don’t even have to feel guilty about not marrying me.

The queen is dead. You have done more for me than anyone in centuries.

You owe me nothing except, perhaps, resentment and anger for what I put you through. ”

Gytha frowned. His eyes were shadowed with exhaustion so deep that she wondered whether he really understood that he was free. He certainly didn’t understand the stubborn affection and hope that flared, hot and bright, when she looked at him.

After a moment, Eshkeshken stood. “Take your time figuring out what you will do with your freedom. I must attend my queen.” He strode out of the room, his steps quick and sure on the icy floor.

Silence fell over them, and Alexander looked down at his hands loose in his lap.

“I don’t resent you, Alexander,” Gytha said. “I wish you would stop saying that I should. I would be happy to be married to you, and I would strive to make you happy, too.”

He looked up at her again, his face alight with desperate longing. “Even though I ruined your life?”

She took his hands in hers again, feeling simultaneously too bold and not bold enough. His fingers were icy. “You didn’t, and even if you did, it was worth it.”

He bowed his head and shuddered. “I’m sorry.” His words were choked. “I vowed to marry you, and if you accept me, I will gladly do so. But I don’t want to trap you the way I was trapped.”

Goblin voices in the hallways made a rough, muffled background clamor.

Gytha felt the sympathy in her heart shift subtly with this new understanding; she had not wanted to trap him, but she had not fully realized how he might feel that Gytha was also trapped, and how that would horrify him.

He would not want to be like Javethai in any way, even by chance.

“If anything, I trapped you,” Gytha said. “But you’re free now.”

His hands tightened on hers, but he did not look up. She could feel his subtle trembling, and she thought it was likely more from exhaustion than cold, for the air in this little alcove the goblins had constructed was warm enough for their bare hands to be relatively comfortable.

Gytha said softly, “If you could have anything, what would it be?”

The silence drew out. At last Alexander said, his voice rough with emotion, “I would… I would want to know that when I die, someone remembers that I lived. That I existed.”

This seemed so little, after what he had endured.

Perhaps this was what he had wished for when he had been captive, what he had thought of when he was alone and tormented.

He had once said he longed for love, for family, but he did not say this.

Maybe he could not remember that dream, or did not dare voice it.

Gytha hesitated, but when he said nothing else, she said, “I will never forget you, Alexander.”

He sucked in a short, sharp breath. “Thank you. That is enough.”

“What if it isn’t enough for me?” Gytha said, her heart thumping at her own boldness.

He stared at their hands, still clasped together. She could feel his tension.

She said, “It will take time to know each other better, but I think we could find our way to happiness. I’m willing to try.”

His hands tightened on hers. “You don’t have to.”

“I know. ”

At last he met her eyes. He took a deep breath and held her gaze before nodding. “I…I had not even thought to hope you would ever love me until now. But I already love you.”

The hope in Gytha’s heart sparked into joy. “Would it hurt you too much if I gave you a hug?”

He blinked and then, cautiously, he shifted closer to put his arms around her. Tentatively, she returned the embrace. He shuddered and then relaxed a little. Gytha’s head was close to his, and she murmured, “It has been a long time since anyone touched you kindly, isn’t it?”

“Oh, Gytha,” he said in a strangled voice. “When you put your hands in my fur that day, it was the first time in centuries that a hand touched me without intending to cause pain. I think I fell in love with you that very instant.”

She felt the pain and exhaustion and despair in his embrace. He shivered and his head sagged.

“Am I hurting you?” she whispered.

“I don’t mind at all.” He made a strange, choked sound and she realized it was a laugh, rough and unpracticed. “I am utterly yours.”

For some minutes they sat in silence with their arms around each other. Their embrace was the furthest thing from passionate, but there was love in it.