Of Thorns and Beauty by Elle Madison
Chapter Twenty-Five
By the time we arrive back at the castle, I am frozen solid from the evening snow and my shaken nerves, and Khijha looks no better. She irritably swipes away some snow that has settled into her whiskers, and I stifle a small laugh at her expense.
The feeling of freedom from earlier had disappeared in the wake of Damian’s appearance, and all the reminders it brings. I am here for a purpose, one I am actively not fulfilling. It is one thing to soften the king, but another entirely to allow myself to be softened.
I shake my head, unreasonably furious with myself.
Einar watches me with an expression that is too probing, too insightful, and though I know I should thank him for the day, I find myself walking away from him with a hurried, "I'll see you in the morning, then."
I am only a few footsteps away when his voice follows me.
"On the second day, the people usually stay past nightfall to welcome in the lights."
"What lights?" I turn, curious in spite of myself.
A slow, mysterious smile spreads across his face.
"I suppose you'll have to go back to find out." He is teasing me, but it's more than that.
I believe he genuinely wants me to come.
I have a mission, one I can’t fulfill if we aren’t getting along. I tell myself that's the only reason I dip my head in agreement before turning to shuffle up to my rooms.
When I arrive, Sigrid has a bath waiting for me. Since our first disagreement over the water, she has never filled it more than a hand span high, for which I am grateful. I splash the warm water over myself, letting it slowly thaw me and trying very hard not to think about the last source of heat I used to warm myself.
It's one thing, doing what I need to do. But life has taught me better than to let my feelings get involved, even with a man who is, technically speaking, my husband.
When the king joins me for breakfast, I am already awake and dressed for the day in another of the outfits that Sigrid has provided for me. Today, the accents are the same deep purple as the outside of the berries that make the eiswein. Amethysts sparkle on my nose and upper ear, connected by my usual gold chain.
The jewelry helps to ground me when little else in this place does.
Between that and the fact that I have finally started to wake up at my usual hour, I'm feeling a little more like myself each day. Not that feeling like myself is anything to be excited about. But physically, I’m feeling stronger and more energized than I have in quite some time.
For his part, Einar looks much the same as always. If he feels any differently about me today than he did before our outing to the festival, it doesn't show in his carefully guarded expression. Though, his eyes do linger on my face a little longer than usual, and I can't help but notice the way he angles his chair more toward mine at the breakfast table.
When Sigrid comes bustling in this morning, she surprises me by bringing more than food.
"The post comes not as much far out here, but these letters come today." She holds out two envelopes addressed in handwriting I know as well as my own.
Aika's messy, hurried scrawl is on the top envelope, where she hasn't even bothered to put my full name, let alone a title. It just says Zai, and I shake my head a little, grinning, before looking at the second.
Melodi's patient, careful hand has written out my full title, even the part I hate. Lady Zaina, Consort to King Einar of Jokith. I laugh a little at her unflinchingly straightforward nature.
I can feel Einar's gaze on me, and I force the expression from my face.
A small, selfish part of me wants to keep their letters untouched, unopened and exuding the essence of everything that makes my sisters who they are. If I don't open them, if I don't read them, then I don't have to hear any dreadful news they may contain.
But the wondering would kill me all the same. I have spent my entire life protecting them. I could no sooner turn off the part of me that worries than I could stop breathing.
The king is still studying my expression, so I set the letters aside as though it doesn't physically pain me to do so. He raises his eyebrows.
"I should give you some privacy to read your letters."
But there is an undertone there, and I wonder if by making him think I wish him to leave, I will undo some small bit of the progress we made yesterday.
"That's not necessary." I wave my hand as though it's silly, as though I wouldn't love nothing more than a moment alone to read these snippets of my sister’s voices. But he already looks at me like I have something to hide, so I pick up Aika's letter first.
I note with some interest that it was postmarked ten days ago from a post office in Bondé. She’s still in Corentin, then.
To my favorite older sister,
I'm her only older sister, I think with a pang. It's so like her to write such a thoughtless line, though.
You've always been difficult, but tracking you down has been something else entirely.
Madame always played her cards close to her chest, so I’m not surprised Aika hadn't known her plans, but I can't deny a small tightness in my chest unfurling at having it confirmed. And for all her blasé nature, she clearly went to a lot of trouble to find me. Something in me warms at the gesture. I feel a little less alone if my sisters at least know where I am.
I continue reading.
My life hasn't been nearly so exciting as yours has been, though I'm starting to suspect the boy is hiding something from me. Not that I care, obviously.
Obviously, she does care about the only person in the world who can best her at cards, and I wish I was there to tease her about it. I resist the urge to rub the sudden ache out of my chest.
Anyway, I hope you're planning a trip home soon. We are all starting to miss you, Mother in particular.
Instead of a signature, she has merely drawn her trademark flame on the bottom of the page.
My mind flashes back to the man in the marketplace today. Not for the first time, I curse this blasted castle being so far from everything I have ever known, so far from the people who are trying to get in touch with me. To warn me.
I glance over at the king, who is pretending to be busy with his book, though his eyes have not moved in a few seconds.
"It's only my sister. She misses me," I add with a forced smile.
Only when the uncomfortable expression crosses his face, when I belatedly identify it as remorse, do I realize that he will likely take that comment as a jab because he is the one who has forbidden them from coming. Not wishing to put him on the defensive, I quickly cover.
"She’s just bored because the social season is over."
But his next response tells me I have blundered again.
"I thought you didn’t have any siblings." His brow furrows.
Whether he asks from suspicion or polite interest makes no difference. It takes everything I have to keep my expression neutral, to force air into my lungs and back out again as though his simple question is not all it takes to send me into an outright breakdown after the events of the past few weeks.
"Not by blood, but yes, I grew up with three sisters." I want to take the words back as soon as I say them.
He doesn’t ask why I have three sisters but only two letters, and I am absurdly grateful for that. I practically tear the next letter open in my haste both to escape the conversation I am in and to see what my more practical sister has to say.
Dearest Zaina,
Please forgive me for not writing sooner. Your whereabouts were only discovered this very morning.
I rarely worry for your safety, even half a world away, but I hope you'll grant me leeway just this once to tell you that I worry for your spirit. I know you are shaking your head right now, that you have always felt that it was your job alone to worry. But I can imagine it would be easy to lose yourself with no one there to ground you.
So, for my sake, remember that you have family. You are loved. And you have hope. The darkness won’t last forever, sweet sister.
I know, too, how much you hate talking of such things, so I will move on now.
Things here remain unchanged, as they always do. Although with Aika out so often lately, and you not here, it feels markedly bleaker than before.
Your absence is felt keenly, by none so much as Mother, I think. Indeed, she grows more anxious by the day. I hope that we will see you soon. I hope that you can feel my love even halfway across the world, and I hope that you do not allow yourself to become as frozen as the vast tundra around you.
Sincerely,
Melodi
I squeeze my eyes shut against the truth of her words. It's always been like this, though, my worrying for Mel's safety and her worrying for my heart.
If Aika worries about anything, she keeps it well hidden.
I turn my attention back to the king only to find his expression has gone hard and he is rising from his chair.
"I apologize. I hadn't meant to ignore you --" I begin.
"Not at all," but the words sound oddly monotone. "I have a few things to attend to before we can head to the festival. I will meet you just past midday." With that, he sweeps out of the room.
I might have believed him, was I not so adept at discerning another person's lie. I glance at the table where his mug of tea is still steaming and his sugary breakfast remains uneaten.
Even Khijhana stares after him suspiciously. I force myself to finish my own breakfast as though nothing had happened. After all, if I let every one of the king’s ever-changing moods affect my own, I would likely never feel sane again.