Heart of Ice (The Snow Queen #1)(54)

Captain Halvor glared at Phile, who meekly planted herself on the wall. “How do you feel?” he asked, gingerly standing still so Kai—carrying a wooden tray piled with food—could maneuver around him.

Rakel pushed one of her blankets down and took the tray from Kai, smiling at him in thanks. “Fine. You were right. Falling unconscious after using great amounts of my magic appears to be my price,” she said, working hard to keep a scowl off her face.

Captain Halvor nodded. “I guessed as much when it took longer for you to awaken. It seems that the more power you use, the longer you are unconscious.”

Just wonderful, a price that plays on my fear of being caught unaware—though I expect many would think it’s a soft price compared to the power it gives me. Instead of voicing her complaints, she opted to change the topic. “How is Glowma?”

“Filled with celebrations—you’ll be expected to attend your fair share, of course,” Oskar said.

“The battle went as well as we could have hoped for. Although, it would have been ideal if we had retained control over the mages,” Captain Halvor growled.

“Yes,” Oskar said, giving Phile a scowl of displeasure.

The Robber Maiden had her back to a wall and was smiling like an innocent child. Gerta and Kai stood with her, watching the exchange with interest.

“Any sign of a counter-strike?” Rakel asked.

Captain Halvor shook his head. “They had quite a few losses from the alleyway skirmishes and fights. Most of them were injured, and they left without any sort of gear or medical help. They’ll have to return to a larger outpost to regroup.”

“The gates have already been repaired—an easy job as you merely destroyed the hinges. Tollak laid some magic on the gates to make them stronger and fire resistant,” Oskar added.

“And our soldiers?” Rakel asked.

“We had some losses,” Captain Halvor acknowledged.

“Having Liv in our ranks, however, has significantly cut down on our injury-related deaths,” Oskar said, referring to the only other female magic user. Her specialty was purification—of water, wounds, food, and the like.

Rakel smiled. “I am happy to hear that.”

Oskar snapped a nod. “As we all are. Are you strong enough to get up?”

“She hasn’t eaten yet!” Gerta said.

Oskar smiled at her. “Ahh, yes, how rude of me—little Gerta is correct. You must eat first.”

Rakel self-consciously glanced at her tray of food. “I imagine I’ll be able to get up shortly.”

“Excellent. A seamstress has been altering one of your dresses so it is more appropriate for a celebration. She would like for you to try it on so she can see what else it requires.”

Rakel frowned. “Is that necessary?”

“The dress or the celebrations?”

“Both.”

“Yes, they are necessary, Princess,” Oskar said. “The citizens of Glowma have been clamoring to see you, and there will be important people among the guests. You will enjoy the parties—I promise.”

“What about our plans for marching to Ostfold?”

“Snorri is already traveling there to scout out the situation,” Captain Halvor said.

“Good.”

“In the meantime, your main concern should be interacting with your new supporters, while your old ones recover,” Oskar said.

Rakel looked to Phile—hoping she would object—but the Robber Maiden was gone. She held in a sigh. “Very well.”

“Excellent! First thing—we must set about introducing you to the merchant guild leaders. They might be willing to lend us funds. Pordis is the one you should concern yourself with the most, but there are others…”



Farrin blinked and tried to keep his breathing even in spite of the pain.

Sunnira glanced up from his wound and shook her head. “You should have killed the princess when you had the chance.”

It was only Farrin’s longstanding friendship with Sunnira that kept him from feeling more than irritation. Killing Rakel was never an option—though it had taken him several meetings to realize that. “I am reluctant to slaughter a fellow magic user,” he lied.

“Then you should have let Kavon’s assassination attempt carry through,” she said, brushing a lock of her chestnut hair out of her face. She returned her gaze to his shoulder—knitting muscle and skin together with her magic.

Farrin was again thankful he was lucky enough to have Sunnira as an officer serving under him. She was one of their best healers and had saved his life—and the lives of the other magic users in their unit—more times than he cared to remember.

He kept his face blank even though his body was wracked with pain—healing was not a soothing experience. “It wouldn’t matter. These wounds aren’t from Rakel.”

“Don’t be a fool. If they didn’t have her, the Verglas resistance wouldn’t have ever formed.” Though her words were sharp, her fingers were gentle as she probed the healing wound. “If you can’t stomach killing her, then dispatch others to do it for you.”

“Don’t overstep your boundaries, Sunnira,” Farrin said, letting his displeasure show in the weight of his voice. “We might be longtime friends, but I run the north armies, not you.”