Heart of Ice (The Snow Queen #1)(55)

Sunnira sighed. “I know—you have Tenebris’s trust just as you have mine. He trusts you to take the northern part of Verglas. But what is it about this royal girl?”

“She’s admirable. She is a magic user, but she stands by her countrymen out of her own free will.”

“She’s a princess. Her life experiences are very different from ours. Living in a castle of ice is not at all traumatizing—you and I survived brutalities.”

Farrin mulled over the thought, surprised to realize he disagreed. He recalled the haunted, lonesome fog that consumed her eyes when he first met her, the way she startled whenever he touched her—as if contact were a foreign concept. Even when he was with the worst of his slave masters, he still knew friends and companions.

Being forced to kill is horrific…but living alone for years with nothing but your own thoughts for company—and as a child? That kind of neglect was terrifying.

“Don’t romanticize her, Farrin. She’s not like us,” Sunnira said, standing in front of him so he could see the earnest worry in her doll-like features.

“You’re right,” Farrin said. “She avoids killing at all cost. We spill blood without a thought.”

Sunnira wove her fingers together. “We have a right to seek out a land to call our own.”

“I agree,” Farrin said, testing out his shoulder. “But I don’t think we should ignore the honor in Princess Rakel’s actions just because she chose a different side.”

Sunnira sighed. “It baffles me how you can still be an idealist when a few years ago you lived only to kill.”

Farrin’s facial scar ached, and he eyed Sunnira. She knew he—as most magic users—fought to forget his past. The unwelcome reminder made him tip his head back. “Why are we here, Sunnira?”

She blinked, batting her long eyelashes at him. “What? How can you ask that? The land—”

“Is not ideal for our purposes. We would be better off taking over a coastal country. Furthermore, only a handful of our magic users come from Verglas, and they had no particular vendetta against it besides their exile.”

Sunnira sighed. “You are too curious about the princess. What poison has she been dripping in your ears, hmm? You can’t trust anything she says—she wants us to leave!”

“Sunnira. Tenebris must have told you. Why Verglas?”

“You know why. I’m not having this conversation with you, Farrin. I hope for your sake we are sent south and a new regiment is sent to replace us—one who will properly end the resistance. Now, be sure to rest. Though your wounds are healed, your body is still recovering…” Sunnira chatted on, her usual good humor returning.

Farrin accepted the change with no indication he disagreed with her. He finished speaking with her—taking a few minutes to exchange friendly small talk—offered her a rare smile, and sauntered out of the infirmary.

His face was as rigid as rock. She’s not telling me everything. Though Sunnira was under his command, she was close friends with Tenebris, their leader. She knew the real reason they were in Verglas, and she wasn’t sharing.

Farrin walked through the Ostfold barracks, stopping to enquire after soldiers and officers—taking care to appear unaffected. It took him two hours to reach the other magic users’ quarters. He knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a husky female voice said.

Farrin entered the room and closed the door behind him. “Bunny,” he said, “I have an assignment for you.”





CHAPTER 15





A MILITARY PROMOTION


Rakel forcibly turned her attention from the feast—she had never before experienced such a celebration with music, brightly colored clothes, and so much joy—and focused on her dinner partners. “Thank you for holding this celebration, Constable Tryggvi.”

Tryggvi bowed his head. “It is my pleasure, Princess,” he said as he gave her a bright, genuine smile. “I cannot tell you how honored I am to finally meet you. Since hearing of your actions at Fyran and Vefsna, I have had the impertinence to consider myself your servant.”

His comment made Rakel feel a little awkward. She had decided not to tell him—nor Pordis, who was also in attendance—that she had previously met him under far different circumstances. She wanted the chance to see if they would act differently.

Rakel watched servers deliver food to some of the tables—the room was so stuffed with surfaces to eat upon, there was barely room to walk. “I was pleasantly surprised to receive your invitation.”

Tryggvi leaned across the table, concern etched on his wrinkled face. “I beg your pardon, Princess, but why?”

“I didn’t know how you would feel, having a magic user as your dinner guest,” Rakel said. Phile is detrimentally affecting me. I never would have asked such a question before befriending her.

Phile was supposed to be seated with Rakel, but the Robber Maiden hadn’t been spotted since the previous day.

Tryggvi’s forehead wrinkled. “Princess, you are saving the country. No one could begrudge you such an honor.”

Pordis, seated next to him, set down her wine goblet. “Moreover, you are changing our very culture.”

Rakel blinked, surprised by this unexpected development. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, echoing Tryggvi’s earlier words.