Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(46)

She scooped a forkful of cake and froze, her fork suspended in the air. Her eyes darkened, and her muscles stiffened, her gaze sliding to the camera crew.

Oh, gods. My heart went still.

Princess Cleena rose from her chair, staring at the camera as she swung her legs over the table, her yellow gown trailing behind her. She slid to the floor, her movements elegant as she approached the camera.

Opening her mouth, she unleashed a haunting sound, an otherworldly song, like hell was being harrowed, and all the souls were mourning on the way out. The eerie horror of the sound slid all the way down to my bones.

“Christopher?” she called out. “Christopher, where are you?”

The camera twisted to a skinny, brown-haired man holding a boom mic. A look of absolute terror was etched across his features. Princess Cleena moved towards him, calling his name again.

“Christopher?”

He dropped the boom with a loud clatter, but the princess ignored it. She stood over him, and the trembling noise in her voice grew louder and louder until it became an unbearable, caterwauling scream.

Either Christopher or someone he loved dearly was going to die.

When the camera panned back to Cleena, she seemed to have recovered herself, her expression calm again. With a little smile, she returned to the table and picked up the golden cake. She smiled at me wistfully. “This really looks very good, doesn’t it?”

Looking pleased with herself, she crossed out of the room.

But poor Christopher wasn’t being given a second thought by the producers, because a footman was already bringing in the next princess.

Alice, princess of the Kelpie clan, hurried into the room, holding a silver tray with a dome. Her hair shimmered over an emerald dress studded with tiny pearls. As she scuttled over next to me, her eyes were wide, nervous. She slid the platter onto the table.

“Your Majesty.” She dropped into the chair, beaming at me, but her smile seemed forced. “I have brought you a gift.”

I returned her greeting with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Delightful, Alice.”

She pulled the dome off the platter. “It’s a cake made with peaches. I’ve been told peaches are your favorite. I baked it myself.” She picked up a large silver spoon and began to scoop some of the cobbler onto my plate with shaking hands. “I collected the peaches from the trees in the eastern greenhouse.” She was stumbling over her words. Then her face fell. “I had intended to bring some clotted cream to go with it, but unfortunately, the milk went rancid.” She shook her head. “Maybe I shouldn’t mention rancid—”

“The milk was spoiled?” I cut in, a sense of dread weighing on my shoulders.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “It keeps spoiling.”

I nodded grimly. “The boggarts, I’m afraid. They’ll be gone when we have a new queen, along with the other dark magic.”

The firelight warmed her pale features. “I’m so pleased you allowed me to participate, even with my scandalous past.”

I stared at her. I had literally no idea what she was talking about, and Alice didn’t strike me as a scandalous person. “Well, the past is the past.”

“He was a pirate, you see. From the Selkie clan. And he nearly stole my honor, but you have nothing to worry about, because my father rescued me before I was ruined forever. I cried for weeks, Your Majesty. I wouldn’t eat or get out of bed. My heart was entirely broken. Because I really thought he loved me, but it turns out he’d ruined many a na?ve kelpie, and he was after my money. He left me nearly destitute.”

“You don’t need to tell me this,” I said, more abruptly than I meant.

“But now I have a second chance at love, don’t I? And I would dearly love to have children. As many as possible. A whole brood of tiny fae, running around, getting into things. I’d teach each of them to ride a pony, then horses. And I’d read to them every night.”

But dear Alice, true love is not on the agenda here.

As the bell rang and Alice rose to leave, my mood darkened. This entire charade was ridiculous, just as Ava had said when we’d first met.

My gaze flicked up at Sydoc crossing into the room, carrying what looked like a raw steak on a platter.

There was no way in hell I’d be touching that, and I was afraid it could have a human origin.

She wore a little red beret over her sleek black hair and a sleek red dress. The heels of her formidable black boots clicked on the floor as she walked. Reaching my side, she slid the meat in front of me, and the rusty scent of blood curled into my nostrils.

Her eyelashes were black as coal and unusually long. “Your Majesty. Do you remember saving me years ago? In the Karnon forest, when you were out hunting. Some unruly Redcap brigands were chasing me. You slaughtered them all.”

A dim memory arose from the recesses of my memory—a woman with black hair, her dress torn.

Running through the mist at full speed from three wild Redcaps, their bare chests streaked with blood.

My eyebrows rose with surprise. “That was you?”

She nodded. “And I knew then that I must marry you. Because you were someone who could keep me safe.”

My blood went cold.

Oh, no, Sydoc. That’s not me at all.

“And you know how things are in the Redcap kingdom,” she went on. “When my older sister, Igraine, showed that she was not sufficiently bloodthirsty, my father had her drowned in the lake and her body hung from our castle walls.”