Sacrifice (The Snow Queen #2)(80)
The door opened with a quiet clack. “Sir.” Bunny clicked her heels together as she snapped off a salute. Behind her Crow—her husband—much more lazily mimicked her.
“At ease, Major,” Farrin said. “My shift isn’t over, yet.”
“General’s orders,” Crow piped in as he tried to settle an arm over Bunny’s shoulders.
“As today is Princess Rakel’s birthday, Oskar is holding a celebration,” Bunny said. “General Halvor requires your presence.”
“General Halvor can require all he likes. I’m not his soldier,” Farrin said.
Crow ruffled his black hair. “General Halvor said that as the Commander of Princess Rakel’s honor guard, you must attend. You know, morale, duty, and all that.”
“Phile will be there,” Bunny added, swatting off her husband as he tried to run his fingers through her short hair. “She got back from her latest trip just an hour ago.”
“Did she find anything?” Farrin asked.
Bunny shrugged, though the sad shadow in her eyes belied the gesture.
“Very well,” Farrin said. He turned and brushed his fingers across Rakel’s cool hands. “Tomorrow, Rakel,” he murmured. He swept from the room, fighting to keep his sputtering hope alive.
She will wake up. She will!
Farrin didn’t move when Phile threw open the door to Rakel’s room—he had long heard her coming as she had a unique, skipping gate.
“I’ve done it, Little Wolf,” Phile announced. She ran to Rakel’s bed and plopped down on it, folding her legs under her in the most awkward position, as she did every time she came for one of her sporadic visits. (She tended to visit when he was on guard duty—which was most of the daylight hours—as he allowed her the informality. Most of the other guards protested at the close contact with their comatose princess.) “I started my Thieves’ Guild. It’s stationed here in Verglas, though right now we’re still running across the continent,” she said.
Ever since delivering Rakel to the safety of Ostfold, Phile had been in and out of Verglas, searching for texts or books that could help Rakel wake. So far she had found nothing—even though she had ventured into dangerous territory, almost caused a war in Torrens when swiping an ancient book, and plagued Ragnar’s elf-friends for days.
Farrin adjusted one of the daggers strapped to his sword belt. She is loyal. No matter what happens, I think she will consider Verglas her base of operations.
“I even poached Snorri as my first member. Handsome Halvor almost had me quartered as Snorri is one of his best scouts, and the only one immediately available—in case you haven’t heard, Bunny is out of commission as she and Crow are expecting. But, anyway, I got Snorri, and now the legend of my Thieves’ Guild will begin!” Though Phile’s words were bright, Farrin saw her lower lip quivered for a heartbeat.
The Robber Maiden reached out and squeezed Rakel’s hand. “So you have to wake up now. Though I was thinking to make my guild strictly males, I would accept you as a member. Because you are my friend, but also because if I can advertise I have a princess in my guild, well, there’s no better recommendation!”
Phile was quiet for several moments. Though Oskar had forgiven her months ago, Farrin wasn’t certain the Robber Maiden had forgiven herself—even if it was what Rakel had wanted.
She’s suffering.
Phile rearranged her legs. “It’s fall. I’m hoping to catch a Ringsted ship south before the bad weather breaks out so I can look into a few rumors, but I’ll be back. Steinar is holding a big shindig near the end of winter to celebrate our victory against the Chosen. I’ll be there—and you better be, too.”
Farrin turned his back to Phile—blocking the image of her hunched, defeated posture. They were almost out of hope.
“A talus is the sloping surface at the base of a fortified wall. It is constructed to be thicker, which makes it more difficult for attackers to break through because of its great mass…” Kai turned away and wiped his wet face on his sleeve, unwilling to let the sleeping Rakel witness his tears.
Farrin shifted, wondering if he should comfort the little boy. It would break Rakel’s heart to know how much her absence pains him—how much it pains all of us.
Gerta placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned over the book. “It’s got a picture of a talus.” She traced over the diagram with a finger. “It’s a breakdown of how the wall is…r-reinforced.” Her voice was strong even though she stumbled over the unfamiliar term. “It’s got stones ’n stuff—like you used to talk about, Princess.”
The children were reading from a book about castle architecture Rakel had once proclaimed to be her favorite—although reading wasn’t quite right. Neither of them could read very well, and the book was far beyond their ability, so every week Oskar read two pages to them. Kai would memorize the words, and once a week he and Gerta would recite their findings to Rakel.
(When they were asked why they continued with this—even though it was the middle of winter and Rakel had been unconscious for the better part of a year—Gerta blinked and said, “Because I think she must be bored—sleeping all day like that.”)
Gerta and Kai were faithful in their visits, and unrealistically convinced that Rakel would wake up…but as for Oskar, Phile, and Steinar…defeat was wearing them down. Even Farrin—who loved Rakel, even now with every breath he took—had no hope. What little bit he had, had smoked out and died when winter arrived and Rakel hadn’t woken up. After the grand celebration Steinar had planned, and when the last week of winter passed, Farrin planned to petition General Halvor for a position in the Verglas army.