Page 26

26

BESSA

Bliss. I was in pure bliss. For such a large man, Ambrose had been so gentle, so sweet. His fingers had unlaced my bodice with such a delicate touch, setting it aside while watching me so intently. I had begged him to be inside, but he had refused. “Shhhh,” he had whispered. “Let me indulge you.” The release of not having to make every decision, question every bit of advice, be the final voice on all resolutions was nearly as intoxicating as the way Ambrose’s hand had kneaded into my left hip and my inner shift dress, my last layer of protection, before it dropped to the floor and I was bare before him.

The memory of it imprinted on me forever.

Outside, voices rose in shouts breaking our shared spell, and feet, even padded by the snow, thudded by. Doors opened and slammed shut again. Ambrose turned toward the window, his face creased with confusion, as if he’d heard a word that he couldn’t comprehend. Eska sat straight up and jumped on my half-clad shoulders, her whiskers twitching against my face in agitation as she tested the air. And then I smelled it, too. Smoke. A moment later, the worst was confirmed.

“Fire! At the castle!”

Ambrose and I stared at each other for a moment, a heartbeat too long, both thinking the exact same thing. Had I caused this? Had our passion been too much for a frozen kingdom to bear? If in my wild ecstasy, it made Eska go wild… how could I have been so irresponsible?

I tore my eyes from Ambrose’s face, lined with worry and tension, and threw on my cloak and hood. I started to run, dimly aware that Ambrose was shouting after me and begging me to wait.

It was no longer simply a feeling. I was engulfed in flames, and it wasn’t just my body on fire with want. Ambrose caught me at the edge of town, and we raced all the way up mountainside to the castle grounds, where it was a hive of confusion. Thank the gods of ice, as my cheeks were indecently inflamed and warm to the touch. Now I had an explanation that didn’t involve illicit lovers–running and fire.

I’d had no intentions of letting it go so far, so long, none at all, but I had. Now, there was an actual fire. Was it my fault? I had only wanted a little warmth, a little truth, something real before I had to choose my destiny. Before I chose my duty. And I had only wanted it with the truest person I knew, Ambrose. Now it was gone and worse, it had led to this.

Maids were crying, and the weavers clutched their tapestries and each other. My hair had loosened from its braid and was scratching my cheeks as I whipped my head around to look for Mika or Wyot. Good Gelid, please. Where were they?

As I took off, my arm felt like it was pulled out of its socket. I looked down to see Ambrose gripping my bicep. “Unhand me,” I said, yanking and flailing to no avail.

“Don’t,” he said simply. “Others will put it out.”

“I won’t be hurt,” I said through gritted teeth. “But Mika or Wyot or any of my maids might be in there. They do not have the same protections.”

“And they might see some magic you don’t want them to see,” Ambrose replied, pulling me closer so no one would overhear our hushed conversation.

I gave him a withering look. “I don’t care about that nearly as much as I care about them.” I shook myself free as his grip lessened and fled before he could stop me.

Inside the castle, chaos reigned, as entourages and suitors and villagers all fled the smoke and cries of “Fire!” rang through the courtyard. I saw Gillian of the Violent Tides for a moment, staring at me, and the so-called magician of Skyfold Pass with his sickly frog familiar running for the door. I wanted to scream at the magician to do something! Show off! That’s why he was here, wasn’t it?

With everyone escaping, it was nearly impossible to fight through the waves of people. “Eska, go find them,” I ordered, pulling my fire fox off of my shoulders. She bounded into the surging crowd, weaving expertly around legs and down the hall straight toward the flames.

“If you’re going to be so impossibly bull-headed, would you just wait!” Ambrose pushed through three of Sunfalls’s representatives and stuck himself to my side. “You shouldn’t go in alone. If, Gelid-forbid, someone set this fire deliberately, the chaos would be the perfect cover for a royal assassination. And even if no one did, the chaos is still an ideal cover for a crime of opportunity!”

His words spiked my heart and chilled my bones. I hadn’t thought of that, of course. I was too new, too unversed in courtly intrigue. I knew I had neglected my suitors and my councilors on purpose, but surely that didn’t rise to that sort of betrayal.

“You can’t withstand this heat,” I said stupidly.

“No, but neither should you appear to. So stay near me, and we’ll find a better way to search.”

“I sent Eska ahead.”

“Good thinking.” Ambrose tore off his cloak and threw it to the ground. Off came his shirt next, revealing his built torso and strong arms from all of the outdoor work he performed. If I wasn’t already hot, I would be scorching now as he ripped long strips from his tunic and tied them around our faces.

“I know you’re fine, but no one else does,” he murmured into my hair as he secured the knot. Then using his hand to cover his eyes from the intense smoke wafting into the Great Hall, he scanned the corridor. “It all actually looks more chaotic than it is,” he said. “I think the fire is localized this way.”

It was true. For all of the running and screaming and pops and crackles of the fire, we still hadn’t seen any flames.

“Follow me,” Ambrose said. “And stay behind, please, Bessa.”

I considered correcting him, but it was a crisis, and he was already gone, running down the stone hallway with only his pants on. What could I do but follow?

As we made winding twists and turns, the heat only intensified a little. My hopes rose. Perhaps it was only a small blaze, an unattended hearth, stray sparks, an accidental kitchen fire. The mass hysteria was just that—mass hysteria with no underlying danger.

Ambrose stopped suddenly as we reached the entrance to the library, fire licking under the frame. “Stay back,” he warned.

“Oh enough!” I flung myself at the library doors, kicking against the red hot door without fear and bursting it open. The entire library collection was going up in flames.

Jumping over the threshold, I tore a tapestry off the wall, not even waiting to see what it depicted, and started attacking the smaller flames closest to me with it. A ball of fire rose in the air and smashed to the ground. “Oh no!” Smoke spiraled onto the ceiling, already blackening what was once a beautiful, blue and silver star-filled spire.

Despite my efforts, the flames licked higher, consuming more and more of the library, almost as if my efforts had made it madder. These manuscripts had survived the long winter, they survived the war, but they couldn’t survive one night of our love. I continued trying to smother the flames, something that no Frostvalen was familiar with. We could never let the cold claim us, we could never let the fire go out.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Take a rest, your majesty.” Ambrose was trying to pull me back, his eyes focused on me when they should have been on the fire.

I shrugged him off. “No.”

“Bessa–”

I whirled on him, pausing my frantic attempts for a moment. “I said no.” My no echoed in the burning chamber, bouncing off the walls where tapestries were still aflame, already half-gone. I could only see the top of the baby’s head and the tip of the unicorn’s horn in one.

I could feel his eyes on me as I continued working, as if my queenly voice and command didn’t affect him. “You aren’t a god, and you can’t save everything.”

“Something could still be saved,” I insisted, not bothering to look up. “I’m not trying to save it all.”

He pulled at my arm. “You may be immune to fire’s effects, but you aren’t invincible.” His act had caught me off guard, and I sagged against his bare chest. His muscles flexed with the effort of catching me. Both of us knew how improper it would be to be found this way.

Still, I didn’t pull away. “How can I stop?” I asked, but it came out like a sob. “We caused this. I caused this!”

His voice was fierce. “When there’s someone to blame, we’ll point the fingers. Until then, take a few breaths, your majesty. My gods, there’s enough blame to go around and not nearly enough oxygen!”

“But we must do something!”

He stood torn for the briefest of moments. Then, without warning, he ran to an arrowslit and whistled. The sound reverberated over the frozen roofs, echoing through the trees.

“Ambrose?”

Whirling back to me, he said, “If you must do something, seal off this corridor. Don’t let anyone in.”

I hesitated.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because I’m about to surrender my faith in you, too. Now, do it.”

I ran to the corridor and yelled, “This is the queen. Do not come this way. There is far too much smoke.” I waited, ready to flag anyone down who disobeyed me.

Then I heard it. The pitter patter of tiny paws, and the yipping of a young fox. “Eska?” I asked, but the scene looked all wrong. Either Eska had turned white, or another fox stood in the shadows, its eyes studying me warily.

Ambrose whistled again, and the snow fox answered his call, slinking around the corner and into the library. Within seconds, I heard the fire sizzle out, a cloud of steam and snow flakes ruffling my dress.

My own fox stood at my feet now, drawn by the whistle, perhaps. Her nose twitched wildly with excitement. She yipped and wiggled, eyeing me for assurance.

“It’s okay,” I said, approaching the library myself, certain that anything Ambrose called would not harm us.

The two foxes stood muzzle to muzzle, fire and ice, their two magics sizzling and crackling from the encounter.

“You have a familiar?” I asked.

“I have a friend.”

For a long moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the snow fox. Its fur, the soft markings around its eyes. Everything about it was beautiful, including the way it made Eska burn as bright as an ember. How could this not be a sign? Ambrose and I… were we not fated to be together?

Then I did look up, and I remembered the destruction of the library, its charred remains hissing and dripping. All of it, our fault.