Heart of Ice (The Snow Queen #1)(34)

“You don’t have to force yourself, Princess,” Captain Halvor said. He hesitated. “We would understand if…”

“Steinar is the King of Verglas,” Rakel said. “I have no ambition to take over the country, nor would the people wish for it.” I’d probably get a knife in the back for my troubles.

Oskar shook his head. “But haven’t you heard, Princess? Although, with Phile at your elbow, I expect you can’t have avoided hearing it.”

“Hearing what?” Rakel asked.

“The people—they call you the Snow Queen.”

Rakel held in a scoff, but she did say, “They are romanticizing me to make themselves feel better about being rescued by a magic user. It means nothing. If you will excuse me.” She was eager to make her escape instead of mucking around such a delicate topic. She left the lean-to and approached Kai and his reindeer. “Kai, where is Gerta?”

“She’s trying to get on her mother’s reindeer. She was going to come here when she made it. She must have fallen off.” Kai scooted forward on his mount’s back.

Rakel affectionately scratched the head of the longsuffering reindeer. “I did not know reindeer riding was possible.”

“Oh, sure. My father used to ride them…before the war,” Kai’s lower lip trembled for a moment. He shook his head and looked Rakel up and down. “If we had a big bull, you could ride, too!”

“A bull, hmm?” Phile stroked her chin.

Rakel glanced at the Robber Maiden, surprised she had followed her. “Did you want something?”

“I do, actually. Let’s walk a bit.”

“Goodbye, Princess. I’ll watch for a bull,” Kai promised. He yanked on his reindeer’s leadline and clucked to it, getting it turned around. It trotted off, unbothered by the child clinging to its back.

Phile led Rakel to the outskirts of the encampment, so they were within sight but out of hearing distance.

“You seem troubled,” Rakel said when Phile folded her arms behind her head and stayed quiet.

“I’ve noticed something about you,” Phile said.

“If you’re seeking to discuss my brother, I’m going to refuse.”

“King’s beard, no! Bother your brother. This is about you. Why are you reluctant to use your magic?”

Rakel stopped walking. “What?”

“Whenever you have to do magic, you try to arrange it so the fewest people possible see you doing it. And even when you do use it, you’re slow and careful.”

“I believe you’re overestimating my abilities, Phile. Magic is born in different strengths. Some are far more powerful than others.”

“Oskar told me how your magic stopped a crossbow bolt and a dagger. If you’re fast enough to catch that, you aren’t using your full abilities when you fight.”

“My life was in danger. Of course I reacted more swiftly. Any person would react similarly,” Rakel said.

“Don’t try to fool me, Little Wolf. I’ve seen your abilities during our morning practices; I know how fast you can move. What I don’t understand is why you are fighting it. Why are you afraid to admit just how powerful you really are?”

Rakel gazed at the horizon, blinding herself on the dazzling snowfield.

“Captain Halvor told me how it was discovered you had magic,” Phile said. “You were three, and you created a blizzard in the middle of the summer that snowed in Ostfold. As a toddler. That kind of power is astronomical, especially given that a magic user doesn’t usually develop their powers until they are at least five.”

Rakel’s control cracked. “What is it you want from me, Phile? An admission that I’m as monstrous as everyone thinks? Will that silence you? Yes—I have an abundance of magic, more than any person has a right to have, and no, I cannot bring myself to hate it!”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Phile said. “I said it before: your magic is a gift.”

Rakel yipped like a dog. “A gift? Is that what they think in Baris? As beautiful as that thought is, the rest of the continent is under the opinion that magic is a curse. The more powerful a person is, the more twisted their soul. It is not a good thing that I am what I am. It is a very cruel life.”

“You cannot believe that prattle,” Phile scowled. “You said yourself that you like your powers. And who says magic users are evil? You’re not.”

“You have no idea what kind of being I am,” Rakel said. “I have a heart of ice.”

“No you don’t. You’re the girl who’s kind enough to save a village because a couple of kids and noble enough to free her brother when she should be the queen.”

“I AM NOT NOBLE!” Rakel shouted. What grip she had left on her control slipped, and giant spikes of ice shot out of the ground. She shattered them, steeling herself for the familiar looks of fright.

“No, you’re afraid,” Phile said. She shook her head and walked back towards the camp. “And until you accept that you are nothing to be feared, you won’t win this war.”



Rakel was sitting alone in her simple, nearly empty room. She was perched on a stool positioned close to the fire in the fireplace, not because she wanted the warmth, but because the light it shed was comforting.