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BESSA

Bronze braziers the size of a stallion barely kept the chill at bay in the stone meeting chamber. With Eska tucked firmly around my neck, I took a few seconds to center myself before entering the meeting hall, matching my breath to hers.

In and out.

The Glacial Council enforced both the secular and the religious laws of Frostvale, and it was, unfortunately, one of my few inheritances—along with this crumbling castle and an assortment of villages haphazardly built along the frozen river valley. Some days, I wondered why I fought so hard for it. Why did I want to be queen when it meant putting up with these conceited fools?

But then I remember the way the villagers took up my call to arms after my twin brother had me imprisoned, and I knew I’d do anything to protect them. Even putting up with my council.

Upon my entry, the twelve council members stood. Not quickly, mind you. Each one took a few seconds too long, a beat shy of true contempt, before they lumbered to their feet. I could’ve called them out, but I already knew what they’d say—that it was their creaking bones and the brutal cold that made them so slow, not any thought of disrespect. But I knew better. I had seen how quickly they could move when the coffee and scones arrived.

When they thought I was out of ear shot, I could hear them muttering about peasants plucked from obscurity and didn’t I have a rather plain face? An aquiline nose, to be sure, but the narrowness of my face prevented any pretense to true beauty.

Thank the old gods, I was spared pretense! And beauty! What a burden that would have been.

I chose to say nothing. Mom always said it was better to have a sore tongue from biting it rather than no tongue, although my mom, the woman who raised me and not the queen who birthed me, hadn’t realized I was going to be the one in charge of cutting off tongues one day.

Still, I respected my mom, so I said nothing. Instead, I swept through the council chamber and stood at the head of the table. With great respect, I inclined my head at each one in turn, forcing them to stay standing until I completed the ritual. Thirteen of us could play that game. I said I respected my mom, not that I was a saint like her.

“Please, begin,” I ordered, choosing not to seat myself. Eska’s little nails dug into my shoulder blade, but I suppressed the giggle that suddenly bubbled up. If they only knew what was before them.

Magic .

The only source in all the kingdoms, and I’d have to be careful in choosing the right moment to reveal it. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what that moment was.

Rune, one of the younger councilors, spoke first, a true testament to his soaring ambitions. “We have a few delegations willing to make the trip through eternal winter to meet with your majesty.”

Of all the ministers, he was the least odious, but I still would not consider him a friend to my crown. Not by a long shot. He was the youngest, having taken over his father’s seat on the council shortly before I became queen, meaning both of us had been on the job only a few weeks. Still, despite his youth, he had glistening white hair that could blend in with the snow.

“They sent notice of their acknowledgment of my sovereignty?” I asked.

A few ministers shifted uncomfortably, while others rattled in their chairs in absolute glee. Which meant, no. There had been no formal acknowledgment by the other heads of state.

Rune, however, stayed steady. “No, they haven’t, your majesty. Instead, they sent word they would need certain assurances of safety, food and warmth if they were to come to Frostvale for your coronation. If we are, indeed, to have a coronation?”

I simmered, my cheeks turning red as if to out me, the true fire burning in my belly. It was a slap in the face. Not only did they refuse to acknowledge that I was the queen of Frostvale, they were saying point blank they thought our land was a bottomless pit of frostbite and starvation. We struggled, but we survived. Everyone else should be keen to realize how strong survivors became.

“Send a bird to let them know their presence would be welcome, but not necessary. We wouldn’t want to scare them with our backwoods ways.”

“So we are?” Cecil barked, which wasn’t all that unusual as he was the senior member of the council and mostly deaf in both ears. “We are to have a coronation ceremony?”

“We are,” I replied firmly, my chin lifting.

“We can’t afford the usual fanfare,” Cecil sniffed. “If you insist?—”

“I do.”

“Then it is for one morning,” he continued, pretending as if I hadn’t spoken, “A ceremonial anointing, benediction, prayer to the gods old and new, and that’s that.”

Filomena, a stout woman in charge of grain distribution, nodded primly. “We are going week to week with nothing to spare. If we expect to make it to the next deep earth harvest, there can be no extra expenses. The fat must be trimmed, the gristle eaten, as they say.”

I nodded. I was not unaware of our situation. “Continue working on the castle repairs. My family’s bakeshop is a fine enough place for villagers to get warm, but it’s certainly not big enough for the festivities.” That last word got a rise out of everybody, and a shared grumble passed throughout the room. “As I expressed before, part of the castle will be allocated to a new warming center. That should satisfy the other seven kingdoms should they wish to send delegates. Our castle may be in ruins, but they will not freeze to death.”

“What you need is to fool one of them long enough to consider offering you their hand in marriage. Any number of kingdoms would make an appealing alliance.”

“Thank you for that helpful advice, Councilor Cecil,” I smiled through gritted teeth.

He nodded in appreciation of my appreciation of his wisdom. “Rontu of Sunfalls could offer a more stable grain source. Gillian of the Violent Tides has straight access to the open sea’s hunting grounds. Culm of Skyfold Pass would be beneficial in overland shipping. Jarth de la Silverwood could supply the best, most supple yew for bows and arrows and citrus for scurvy. Zacan of Coalcrest has just discovered a new coal deposit. We can’t survive without coal and that’s a fact.”

“Of course, of course,” I said soothingly. “I know I need a king to help me rule.”

That seemed to unruffle some feathers, as difficult as it was to form the words and force them through my lips. Talk of marriage would be difficult to sidestep for long, but I hoped to have a little more time to get my kingdom in order. Everyone expected me to marry soon. For a woman to rule alone was unheard of. Worse, most found it barbaric. Coupled with our desperate need for resources, I knew I would have to bow to the council’s wishes for a suitable husband eventually.

I had heard rumors of sovereign queens ruling alone in distant lands. No one had actually been to the seventh kingdom, where it was rumored their queens only took lovers, never a husband or a king. I won’t lie, the thought had crossed my mind; if I could continue putting my ministers off and playing their preferred suitors against each other, of course. Not an easy feat, but I couldn’t imagine giving over control to a man simply because he was a man. This was my crown, and I’d fought on the battlefield for it.

Suddenly, my neck tickled. Eska. I tried mentally calming her, but she vibrated again. What was she doing? I wasn’t ready to reveal my mythical fire fox yet—or deal with the inevitable questions she would bring. Like, her role in my queenship.

“If you’ll excuse me, I believe we all have much to do.” I stood, waiting as the ministers also rose so I could finally escape and see what had gotten Eska so worked up. They inclined their heads, but I could hear the grumbling under their breaths as I swept past them in their woolen broadcloths. They really weren’t going to like any of my other grand ideas, but I had time before I informed them of my dream to make the castle a center of our community. A representation of our heart. And as warm as one, too.

Eska was practically vibrating at this point, and I just needed to escape. I walked one slow foot in front of the other until I reached the corner, then I lifted my skirts and ran. Eska bounded off my shoulders and hit the stone floor at a run.

“Eska!” I hissed.

She paused, one dainty black paw in the air. If I didn’t know better, she seemed to be sighing at me. She trotted back, nipping at my cloak, yanking me down the corridor as best she could. Her bright red bushy tail was like a beacon, one that was going to get us caught if anyone wandered this way.

“What is it, girl?”

She yipped once and wiggled through an arrowslit in the castle walls. I picked up my skirts and dashed to the hole only to see Eska off like a shot through the castle yard and down toward the frozen river. Panic thudded at my heart. That was where Honeywood Haven’s market was, and in the market, there were people.