Heart of Ice (The Snow Queen #1)(13)
Rakel scowled, irritated with herself for letting some of her magic slip from her control. She stalked to her enclosed castle, barely noticing Captain Halvor and the soldiers that hovered around her. “Make certain they leave the mountain,” she barked.
One of the soldiers—Snorri, she thought—saluted, and melted into the shadows of the forest. The rest followed her past the wooden walls. She was beginning to wonder why, when she almost collided with Oskar.
“What did they have to say, Princess?” he asked.
“Ugly, unacceptable things,” she grimly said, pausing at the entrance of her castle. She looked back to see Farrin standing just outside his tent, watching her. “After today, if there is even a sign that one of their soldiers has been on any part of Ensom Peak, I wish to be notified. Immediately.”
“Yes, Princess,” Captain Halvor said.
“So you will not join them?” Oskar asked.
Rakel turned to Oskar in surprise.
The attendant shrugged. “It was not hard to guess. Much of their army is composed of magic users, and you are a magic user.”
She stalked into her castle. “I will never side with them.”
Rakel was walking to the library—intending to reshelf her book on flowers—when she passed a window and saw a pack of children giggle and run around the courtyard. She froze, copying the stillness of one of her ice sculptures as the children tumbled past. They spotted her through the window and stopped long enough to give her short, choppy bows and curtseys. Next, one child dropped snow down another child’s back, and they were off, racing around the corner of the castle.
Rakel placed the book on a sideboard and rerouted for the shortest path outside. When she slipped out of a side door, the sun was bright, and a whisper of a breeze stirred the chilly winter air. Normally, this would amplify the stillness of Rakel’s castle and home, but so many people meandered in and out of the grounds, Rakel wondered if this is what a festival felt like. Why, there must be at least twenty people present!
She set her back to a castle wall and watched—with clasped hands—as Gerta’s grandmother talked and chatted with another village woman, knitting mittens and scarves as they watched children careen around the snow-covered yard and ride the life-sized reindeer ice sculptures Rakel had made when winter first visited.
“Oskar,” Rakel called when the red-haired man strolled across her path, holding a book in one hand and a sword in the other.
The attendant smiled. “Good morning to you, Princess. I trust your morning has been pleasant?”
“It has. Please explain why the number of castle residents has jumped significantly.”
Oskar twitched his shoulders up and down in a shrug. “If I had to guess, I would say it’s a combination of the open gate and your heroics.” He gestured to the wooden gate, which was tied open.
Gerta and Kai, crammed on their sled, flew down the roof of a lower ice building and landed in a large pile of snow.
“I am not convinced such trivial acts would make this significant of a difference,” Rakel said, watching the pair climb from the snow with rosy-cheeked grins.
“Saving their home was not a trivial act, Princess,” Oskar smiled. “Although, it might also have something to do with the villagers knowing you won’t side with the invaders.”
“Oskar—there you are,” a soldier shouted, waving his hand in the air as he passed through the courtyard. “I thought you might be in the library—books pull you like fat calls to cats—but you weren’t there—Princess.” He threw himself into a deep bow, but not before Rakel recognized him as the snowshoe/almost-killer soldier.
“Princess, please allow me to introduce you to Knut, one of your loyal guards,” Oskar said. He kept his voice so light and genuine, Rakel almost doubted her memory.
She glanced at Oskar and caught him eyeing the soldier, his face a cold mask of warning. When he realized she was watching, the expression flickered, and he smiled again and nodded at her encouragingly, knowing what he was asking of her.
“Good day, Knut,” she said.
“It sure is, P-Princess,” Knut said, offering her a weak grin. His smile was crooked thanks to a gap between his front teeth, but he had pleasant and easy manners that, she supposed, gave him an extra dose of charisma. He struggled to swallow, but with obvious effort, he planted his feet and asked, “Did you two hear about the Chosen scout?”
“No. What happened?” Oskar asked.
“Snorri caught sight of one halfway up the mountain. He’s telling the captain now, but I reckon the meaning is clear: they won’t leave us alone.”
“Princess,” Captain Halvor said. He approached her with one of his soldiers—Snorri, she thought. “May we speak in private?”
“A scout was spotted on the mountain,” Rakel said.
Captain Halvor gave Knut a disapproving glare. “Yes.”
“They will try to take the mountain again?”
“Most likely.”
Rakel nodded and watched the children play in the courtyard. Her vow to refrain from saving another village had weighed on her mind since her meeting with Farrin. The children playing in her castle didn’t deserve enslavement…but neither did those who grew up in other parts of Verglas. In a way, she was thankful Farrin sent his snooping scout. Now she had an excuse.