“I would like to. I think it would bring our kingdom closer, which, we can all see from what happened here, is needed.”
I recognized the hypocrisy of what I said, even as I firmly believed that what we were doing was right. Eventually, the people would know of our magic. In the future, we could and would be more open. Just not now.
“They’re good people.” A female rebel held up her hand. She had a baby strapped to her chest and stood safely off to the side. “Princess Isolde even made sure my babe and I were well after the birth. Had the healer look after me, she did. I doubt the king has ever done that for anyone besides maybe a few nobles.”
My cheeks warmed. Of course that was true, though not entirely for the reason the female believed. I’d been wondering about the blight.
“Lord Balik cares for us like that,” said a local whose face was spattered with blood. “Would be nice for a king to do the same. Or a queen.” He eyed me, then Thyra, and nodded.
“We will. Wedo,” Thyra said. “Our father didn’t have a good reputation when he went to the afterworld, but Isolde and I—we’ve led different lives than other nobles. We were raised more like you.”
Well, she had been. I’d grown up in entirely different circumstances, but I wasn’t going to stop her when she was on a roll.
“We want to make sure that this kingdom is a place where everyone can prosper.” Thyra waved her hand in the air to encompass the two sides standing on opposite sides of an invisible line. “Will you join us in making Winter’s Realm a better place? A kingdom we can all be safe and loved in?”
The applause said yes, but the looks tossed across the invisible line told me that it would still take some work for these groups to accept one another.
Chapter 28
ISOLDE
Thyra and I had been back at the castle for hours. In that time, I’d tried to create a shadow form like the one she had made. All my attempts failed. That, combined with Lord Balik’s absence and the fight we’d witnessed in the streets, had only served to drive my mood downward. So when a knock came at the door, I was not at all upset to be interrupted while practicing magic.
“Yes?” Thyra asked.
“Princess Saga and Lady Marit are here,” Freyia called from the hallway.
“Let them in,” Thyra replied.
Freyia opened the door wide, and I caught sight of her sister, Astril, standing guard alongside her.
“Hi!” Saga chirped as she swept into the room.
True to form, however, Saga had already hired a seamstress in the city to create gowns, and a few fighting ensembles. A brief glance told me that the seamstress did impeccable work. Another more thorough look made me smile. Hanging in Saga’s pocket was the outline of a small book. The princess was a prolific writer and kept all the court secrets in a notebook shecalled the Book of Fae. I wondered what she was writing about the southern city and my fledgling court.
I held back from asking, but made a note to have Saga invite her seamstress to Ramshold so that I might be measured, too. The Balik sisters were generous with their wardrobes, but I hadn’t spoken to them since the frost giant battle. I was sure their absence was because their father forbade it, and not because they wanted to stay away.
My friendship with the Baliks aside, sooner or later, I’d need an array of my own garments, anyway. Thyra would too. If we were to rule, we would need every weapon and shred of wisdom at our disposal. I, for one, counted clothing as a very effective weapon.
“Good afternoon,” Marit said more softly than the princess. “I brought a few snacks for moral support.” She held out a bag. “Chocolates. Not those gold dusted ones, but from a shop in town. Qildor took me and, believe me, they’re exquisite.”
“What a sweetheart that knight is!” I winked at Marit.
“Let me stop you there. Nothing has happened.” She let out a long-suffering sigh. “Until I’m no longer married, I think things will stay that way.”
“Fates, is he for real?” Thyra muttered.
“He’s too noble.” Saga perched on the edge of Thyra’s bed, earning her a slight frown from my twin. For once, though, Thyra held her tongue about outside clothing on the bed.
“Agreed.” Marit lifted the bag. “Anyways, do you have a platter?”
Thyra laughed. “No. We can eat them out of the box.”
Marit looked appalled.
Saga gestured to the Crown, sitting on Thyra’s bedside table. “Any luck?”
“I haven’t made much time,” I admitted.
