Page 9

9

BESSA

Only a few days later, the first caravan rumbled up the valley, getting caught in the grooved ice along the river bed and causing quite a stir in the village below, as if the suitor had sent his acceptance message and rode off on the same day!

The driver jumped out so stiff from the unrelenting cold that he fell face first in a drift, leaving an indent in the exact shape of his body. He spent a few minutes floundering before the villagers managed to haul him out. Everyone in his party looked like hibernating bears beneath their furs.

It took all my skills as an actress, scant as they were, to remain impassive as the driver announced his royal suitor, his highness, Prince Rontu of Sunfalls.

The prince bowed as best he could, foregoing a bit of the intended flourish in order to avoid tumbling over. A great first choice, since the suitor surely could not move more than two inches at a time, bundled as he was.

“Your majesty, Queen Bessa of Frostvale, I am Rontu, prince of Sunfalls. It is quite the adventure to be admitted into Frostvale,” he said with such boyish charm, I could hardly help being flattered.

I was only human, after all, and I wondered what he looked like, then scolded myself. It didn’t matter. I was no more choosing a suitor than I was choosing a star to pluck from the sky and keep in my chambers.

Rontu had so many layers tucked into his coat that I couldn’t quite be sure where his neck ended and his body began, but I could see he had warm brown eyes and a shock of brown hair that covered his forehead. It was strange to see only the beginnings of a beard, no doubt from travel, instead of a full beard that every man in Frostvale adopted out of necessity.

“You are most welcome, Prince Rontu,” I told him, returning a genuine smile. “I hope you’ll find your stay is most invigorating. I want you to make yourself at home. Please, enjoy Frostvale as we do.”

“I am looking forward to it, your majesty,” he said, gallantly attempting not to shiver. His chattering teeth gave him away, however.

“The kitchens are the warmest spot in the castle,” I told him in a conspiratorial whisper.

He nodded gratefully. “And I plan to fill those kitchens with the best Sunfalls has to offer.”

I blushed. I couldn’t help it. It sounded… suggestive, which of course it was. He planned to fill them with grain because they would be his kitchens after he had my hand in marriage, much as he presumably wanted to fill me. “Well, then you have two reasons to inspect them, for their warmth and to measure their capacity.”

He threw his head back and laughed at my little comment, his shoulders shaking in a great mound. Maybe there was hope for me yet in this world of courtly graces. Best to get out on a high note.

“The cold does not claim us,” I told him regally and turned on my heel to leave the Great Hall, passing the women still at work weaving behind me. They had nearly completed twelve tapestries, two more than we’d agreed on, but they had insisted the castle would not be complete without every wall covered. I infused their numb fingers with warmth as I passed, resolutely not looking behind me, trusting instead in Mika and Wyot to organize the rushed reception for the prince of Sunfalls.

Without much else to offer the castle servants beyond a warm place to sleep and three square meals a day, I still managed to build a decent household staff. Noll from the Dancing Snowflake offered one of his two cooks, and a few younger women came forward to offer their services in the position of maid. Certainly, the women were a strain on their own homes, but I was still grateful. I knew how that was. I was also a strain, although my mother and father never hinted at it. Without a garden to tend, they had all the help they needed running the bakeshop, and I found myself wandering and wondering.

A lot.

I made sure the castle wing dedicated to the staff had been updated before any of the suitors’ wings, but unfortunately, Rontu was early. He’d have to make do with no tapestries, no bed hangings, and no rugs. Honestly, he was fairly lucky to have a bed with sheets and a chamber pot at this point. Not all of the rooms did.

Filomena stopped me at the kitchens, her round face flushed with heat from the flagstone hearth, and she rubbed her hands in excitement. “This is a good omen, your majesty. Straight from the old gods. Sunfalls must be serious to be sending their young princeling already. They want a jump on the competition for your hand. A better grain deal would set us up nicely.”

I pulled my top lip down to prevent a grin from leaking out. She was the first councilor to come speak privately to me, but hopefully the first of many.

“Rontu is your choice then?” I asked, inspecting a half-filled bag of wheat. It was the most precious of our grains and rarely used. Rye and barley were more suited to deep earth techniques.

“Oh yes. The most viable by far. He’s young, handsome, and a second born prince, making him much more likely to move for his fortunes than an old king looking for a broodmare. Oh, and that charm! We could use that around here.”

“And the wheat?” I prompted.

“Of course, of course. Most importantly, Sunfalls is the breadbasket of the Ilex Isles. Our trade agreement now is meager. They only take enough to make their icy delicacies, and since they considered ice a luxury, it would be the first to go in times of want. Unless…”

“Unless the second born prince is married to the queen of Frostvale?”

Filomena tapped the side of her nose. “Precisely, your majesty.”

I clasped my hands around hers. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts. You’ve given me much to think about, Councilor.”

“My pleasure, your majesty. Now, I must inspect the offerings.”

“Offerings?”

“Gifts, your majesty. They sent six bags of grain. Can you imagine?” With that, she turned and sauntered down the hallway, a little bounce in her step. From our newfound intimacy, from the grain, from the presence of the prince? It was honestly impossible to say. Either way, it made my heart light to see.

I spent the rest of the day dodging councilors, keen to let them think I was too busy to listen to them. Let them hunt for me, work a little for my attention. It was good for them.

Wyot had also recently found an old chapel from before the freezing. It had decaying frescoes covering the walls, depicting a sylvan scene with dryads and pixies and a bubbling brook. I’d taken to coming here to reset.

I put my hand against the crumbling egg-tempera paint so faded that it appeared the humans hardly had any faces. I couldn’t make out any of the scenes, except for the cascades of ivy vines that hung down the castle spire with what appeared to be a young woman swinging on them. There was absolutely no evidence of vines in that very tower, because it was the first thing I went to look for after discovering the chapel.

There was another scene on the opposite side of the room that had minimal damage. It caught my attention immediately, probably because it was the first time I’d ever seen an actual depiction of the story told around winter fires, the legend of Frostine, goddess of winter.

She was made of living ice with lacy hoarfrost hair and bound to the old god of winter, Hiems. While walking in the mountains one day, she fell in love with a summer-born princeling who was out foraging for wild berries. Hiems killed the human, and where Frostine’s tears fell in the snow, snowdrop flowers blossomed. She went into eternal slumber under the mountain, only waking right before spring to shed bountiful tears and recall her love, the summer-born boy. This half-faded figure was a woman with icy blue hair delicately painted like lace. A teardrop was on the tip of her nose, and she was surrounded by snowdrops.

“Frostine,” I whispered, my fingers reaching out to touch her.

A throat cleared, and I spun to find it. Standing at the threshold of the ancient chapel and refusing to budge an inch, stood Rontu, prince of Sunfalls. He was holding a steaming mug of something delicious smelling. His large smile and offered mug was the only thing that kept me ordering him out. I needed to be gracious. I needed to be the queen. I needed to not get caught up on myths.

In the relative warmth of the bowels of the castle, I could finally see his face, and he appeared as young as his voice sounded. Perhaps a year over twenty at most, and quite adventurous and rugged looking. As the second son of the king of Sunfalls, it seemed he didn’t stay in his castle learning statecraft all day.

“I took your advice and you were right,” he said. “The kitchens truly are a haven of warmth. I believe I can feel the tip of my nose again. It shall survive, for which I’m eternally grateful.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt the tip of my nose before,” I said.

“You wouldn’t, unless you’re really scared to lose it,” Rontu replied, a twinkle in his eye. He handed me a warm mug of the deliciously fragrant drink. Maybe citrus? I wasn’t sure, since it wasn’t common here. A trader once brought little yellow and orange orbs of fruit to my parents’ bakeshop years ago, though, and it smelled like this.

“What is it?” I asked, accepting the mug.

“Lemon balm tea with dried orange rind. I gave a few additional items to the chef as compliments of Sunfalls,” Rontu said, trying—and failing—to look modest. “Some dried leaves from our most fragrant trees, some sprigs of sun-dried herbs.”

“That was very kind of you,” I said diplomatically, trying not to swoon at the fresh taste exploding in my mouth. What I wouldn’t give for lemon balm tea to wake me up every morning! Not that I could say that out loud. Saying that might as well be a marriage proposal in Rontu’s eyes.

He finally stopped staring at me so intensely and looked around. “Whoa. Where are we?”

I turned, throwing my arms out. “An abandoned chapel. We think it depicts how Frostvale used to be.”

“Green?” he said, a hint of doubt in his voice.

“Yes, hard to believe. My sister Mika has started reading the legends surrounding our kingdom, and she found old tomes in the library that referred to Frostvale as Rosevale. It’s hard to imagine water flowing where we walk and woods so full of green as to be thorny,” I said, my voice wistful. “She thinks it also refers to the rulers here. My ancestors and their prickly personalities—a beautiful rose defending itself with thorny resolve.”

“You fell quite far from the thorn bush, then, your majesty. You are sweeter than any rose,” Rontu said with a courtly flourish that made me a little uncomfortable. I was not used to the flirtatious style of courts, and I hid my discomfort behind the curls of steam that wafted from the warm mug and by taking a large sip that went straight down my throat, making me cough.

I could feel Eska begin to stir in response. As powerful as she was, she was still a kit, and her natural, playful curiosity won out more times than not. Quickly, I rubbed her with my chin to help settle her.

Luckily, Prince Rontu didn’t need much encouragement to continue a conversation. “I heard your surrounding villages hold daily frost fairs on the frozen rivers. I had in mind to wander one, but it would be an infinitely better experience if your majesty could join me.”

“Oh,” I said in surprise. “I’m not sure I have the time today?—”

He got down on his knees and even without his thick coat, it took a few moments to get in position before holding out his hands to me in exaggerated supplication. “Your majesty, please indulge me. I promise not to take up too much of your time, but I’ll admit the stories of your land make for frightening bedtime stories where I’m from.”

“Frightening bedtime stories?” I asked in confusion. “Such as?”

Rontu attempted to get back to his feet, and I had to help steady him for a second. His face was inches from mine and his eyes, golden like his grain, were full of mirth. I realized he might be fun to have around. He was young and rambunctious, yes, but maybe that was what Frostvale needed. We were so stuck on survival. Perhaps less worry about starvation would allow Frostvalens to lighten their mental load and enjoy life. Rontu clearly knew how to enjoy everything life had to offer on instinct, a privilege of the well-fed.

Frostvalens could be well-fed with Sunfalls supplying our endless grain. We could have time again for things like art and beauty.

“Stories mothers told children about shipping them off to Frostvale if they didn’t listen. Is it true you have supplicants to Gelid, god of snow, who sit outside in the elements for days on end to gain his favor?”

“Not that I know of,” I said a bit stiffly. Although it was true that when the magic first disappeared and our kingdom froze over, people did all sorts of things to appease the winter gods, that was a century ago. It didn’t surprise me that the rest of the Ilex Isles still saw Frostvale that way. Backward and brutal.

“Forgive me, Queen Bessa. I can see I have scythed the wheat with no time to shock it.”

I stared at him blankly.

Rontu laughed. “It’s a Sunfalls saying. I have offended you. Trust me, it is of my own ignorance with no malice intended.”

I relaxed. I knew Frostvale’s world image, and I couldn’t take offense, not if I wanted a good marriage with a potential suitor. “I should make time to check on some shops in town, so why don’t I do that now? We can perhaps stop on the way to visit some stalls. Are you prepared to go outside?”

Rontu whistled and two manservants hustled down the corridor, loaded with more coats. They arranged them over Rontu’s doublet and tucked them into his boots. Rontu held his arms out and smiled. “Ready, your majesty.”

As we walked the short distance down the mountain, Rontu asked a million questions about Frostvale’s history and people. The village I was raised in, Honeywood Haven, sat at the bottom of the valley, the closest village to the castle, which was quite convenient for me. I could still visit my parents and the bakeshop whenever I wanted, although it was less and less lately. I could never seem to find the time.

“Rosevale is a name befitting a beautiful queen. I would be happy to bring it back.” Rontu said, then suddenly added, “I wish I could take you to Sunfalls.” If the first part of his sentiment was merely courtly graces, the wistful invitation felt genuine, making his courtship suddenly feel real.

“I would love to see it, sun-soaked as you are, although I fear I may go blind if I couldn’t wear my hood.”

Rontu nodded eagerly. “Yes, we have so much sunshine. Even our cold months only get wetter, and we never freeze.”

“It would be difficult for you to leave your home permanently,” I said gently.

Rontu stumbled on a patch of ice and windmilled his arms to keep his balance. “Oh that’s not what I meant, your majesty.”

I stopped his ramblings with a smile. “Take your time deciding what you want, Prince Rontu. It is your life, after all, and such a decision isn’t for fathers to make for their sons alone, even if one’s father is a king. Look at my father and his decisions. If he’d had it his way, I would have been left in the frozen woods at birth, exposed to the elements. Luckily for me, a unicorn scooped me up and brought me to the man and wife who raised me.”

Rontu looked every bit his age at this advice. “Thank you, Queen Bessa. I will think about what you said, and I want you to know that I have started to fall in love with Frostvale. It is so much more nuanced than those bedtime stories ever told.”

I took his thanks in stride, stopping at the first leather and fur covered stall. It was the ice fisherman, selling pike and handfuls of mussels in frozen blocks. Rontu gave him a groat and ordered his manservant to lift the heavy block of iced-fish over his shoulder. “For dinner tonight!” he said, giving me a gallant smile. Then nodded at the ice fisherman. “This damned cold doesn’t claim me!”

“The cold does not claim us,” the fisherman corrected, and I had to stifle a smile at his annoyed expression. Rontu and his retinue must have seemed completely over the top.

Rontu clapped him on the back. “Exactly, my friend. Exactly.” He seemed genuinely eager to get to know my subjects, even if he was like an excited puppy without any Frostvalen decorum.

I tilted my head, watching Rontu interact with the people of Honeywood Haven. Could he be one of them? Could he be happy in a frozen world? It was definitely a plus that he didn’t take offense easily.

He stopped at Lorcan’s fur-filled tent to trade gossip next. Lorcan was busy talking about seedlings with Duskborne. They were both more animated than I’d ever seen them, outside of their weekly arguments about whose stall should go where, of course. In fact, they were being… friendly?

Rontu lit up, striding right up to the two men. “You’ve found green seedlings? In Frostvale?”

“Aye, seedlings.”

“Could you show me?” Rontu asked eagerly. “Where?”

“I would, but they’re gone. Like a dream.” Lorcan’s eyes crossed over Rontu’s head as he stared in the distance, as if caught in a dream himself. Then he shook himself, his eyes refocusing. “I didn’t see them myself, but I heard they were near the candle shop, then poof, gone.”

At the mention of the candle shop, my stomach felt as if I’d taken a large gulp of hot soup and the heat extended down to my toes, my nerves tingling all through my body. My mind conjured Ambrose’s steady hands delicately dipping candles and pouring others into molds.

“Like magic,” Rontu said and put a finger to his nose, winking, setting me squarely back in the frost fair.

Lorcan pointed at him, his mouth cracking into a wide smile. “Aye, I see what you did there.”

Suddenly, I felt a lurching beneath my feet. The ice… it was melting! Eska and I were melting it.

“Oh no,” I whispered, the tip of my boot gouging a huge hole in the surface. I couldn’t let Eska off my shoulders to suddenly come alive and streak like a falling star come to earth. That wouldn’t just be a rumor of magic. That would be proof, and I had no idea what sort of man Rontu was. He might try to propose on the spot! And be drowned in the melting icy river for his efforts.

Everyone might drown!

I began to panic, at a loss for what to do next. What I needed was magic. Besides Eska, only that damned chandler had ever shown signs of magic and I needed all the help I could get.

The mere thought of that man made my temperature rise higher, and I cursed myself for such a silly mistake as the pool of water around me started to grow. A few seconds more, and we’d all be in mortal danger. I needed to master my emotions.

A white blur shot out from the woods. Where I’d walked, something with four paws zoomed by, reforming the ice into solid blue plates of river water. It had only been a blip out of the corner of my eye. A white streak of lightning, a trail of glittering snow drifting in the breeze, unlike anything I’d ever seen. If it wasn’t for Eska’s sudden jolt on my shoulders, her whiskers twitching back and forth, faster than a scurrying mouse, I would have missed it. Or, at least, I would not have comprehended it. After all, I was not magic. I was merely a conduit.

“Snow fox,” I breathed.

“What?” Rontu shouted through cupped hands, then pinwheeled them, flailing around as he nearly lost his balance for the thousandth time. Through it all, he retained a giddy smile. Was he pompous? Yes, of course. He was a prince. But was he odious? Not by a long shot. And being young, perhaps I could guide him in ways that older kings, such as Culm of Skyfold Pass or Zacan of Coalcrest, would resist.

Of course, I would still delay as long as possible, but he wasn’t a bad option if my councilors began to force the issue with any real teeth behind their threats. Rune in particular hadn’t stopped pressing me for information.

“Snow flocks,” I said, stuttering only a little. “We get lots of flocks of snow birds in Frostvale. I thought I saw one. They’re rare and always a welcome sight for our hunters. But I guess not.” And truly, I couldn’t be sure.

“Shall I escort you back to the castle?” Rontu asked.

“Actually, I need to attend to a few things in the village.”

“Of course. Will I see you at dinner? The pike, remember?”

“Absolutely. Thank you for an invigorating afternoon, Prince Rontu,” I said kindly, but my mind was already thousands of miles away. Or, more precisely, my mind was exactly one mile away, to a certain candle shop.

While I wasn’t quite sure about a magical ice creature, I could have sworn I’d seen the candle maker, watching us. I reached around and petted Eska, my eyebrow furrowed. “Let’s go ask him, girl.” I said.

But when I reached his candle shop, it was dark and cold. No one was there. And all the seedlings had already withered away, leaving only indents in the snow where they might have grown.