Hours pass, the chattering from my guards growing louder before it stops altogether. They refuse any suggestion to leave me unattended, all three insisting on being present at all times.I’d feel guilty, but I’m not the one who asked them to follow me, nor am I the one who they’d answer to if they left to warm themselves. Whether that’s my betrothed, his advisor, or the head housekeeper, any ill feelings can be directed toward them. I’m finding it hard to feel charitable with my fingers numb in my gloves and my feet prickling with pins and needles.
Still, I can’t deny silently agreeing with my guards when they huff their collective relief that the king is leaving the training ground—not of his own volition, of course, but for lack of further opponents.
If he’s still looking to go toe-to-toe with someone, he shouldn’t be avoiding me. By now, all thoughts of a polite discussion about our hopes and ambitions have fled. At this point, I’m not sure there’s a productive conversation to be had until I warm up and cool off, but I’ve waited too long to not stalk after him. My legs protest after being stuck in one place for so long, left to seize in the cold air. Those aches just fuel me more.
Though he’s too far ahead of me to track by watching him, it’s not difficult to follow the trail of re-freezing slush puddles where his footsteps melted the ground. At least not until I’ve gone further inside, past where the guards keep their equipment and where they lounge when there’s a moment to spare, past a hall that—by the smell of it—leads to the barracks, and into a wall of steam.
Once I’m able to peer through some of the fog, I spot the heated bathing pools, large enough for the guards to wash communally, even though they’re completely empty at the moment. I stop mid-stride when I spot the shape of Xandril’s spikes behind the mist, and then all at once, a perfect window to him clears as he drops what’s left of his clothing and the falling fabric fans the steam away.
For the second time in one day, Xandril is standing before me without a scrap of fabric between my gaze and his naked body, covered in iridescent muscles and silver scars, every inch of him radiating the kind of heat that makes me forget all about the winter beyond these walls. Somehow, I can feel my heart in my throat, making it tight, my breath short, but at the same time, I feel my heartbeatpulsing between my legs.
It’s an odd—though not wholly unpleasant—sensation, and I’m granted a moment to admire the view and ponder the strange feeling it elicits before Xandril’s deep voice rumbles out.
“Are you so eager to see me in all my glory that you cannot wait to rejoin me in our bed?” he asks.
I stammer something, I’m not sure it’s intelligible words, too embarrassed at being caught to have a real reply. But then the king’s taunt sinks in, and I’m not flustered, I’mannoyed.
“Yourbed,” I amend. “And what cause do I have to believe that you’d return to it any time soon? Today was the first I’ve seen of you—if I were soeager, how long did you plan to keep me waiting?”
I can hear my guard shuffling behind me, probably trying to disappear out of the room rather than bear witness to their royals having a lover’s quarrel.
Of course, we’d have to be lovers for that. At this rate, I’m not sure we’ll even beacquaintancesby spring.
“I wanted to speak with you,” I add, softening my tone. A gentle nudge can often do a better job of moving someone along than a forceful shove that makes them dig in their heels. He’s a soldier. If I come at him like a combatant, I have no doubt he’ll rise to the challenge.
“This isn’t the time for whatever discussion you wish to have,” he says, looking past me with the same hollow look from before. Like I’m not worth paying attention to. Like he doesn’t see me. Or doesn’t care to. “You should know better than to bring her here. This is no place for the future queen,” he reprimands the guards. “The captain will see that you learn from your mistakes.”
“I broughtmyselfhere, I’ll have you know,” I snap. So much for gentle and amicable. I’m not even sure he hears me as he turns and lowers himself into one of the pools, water bubbling and steaming around him.
I’m not simply a porcelain doll to be handled with care and kept locked in a display case. And I’m on the verge of telling him as much when my trio of guards closes in around me and herds me out of the bathing room. Xandril never gives me another glance.
Fine.
I can’t believe I was going to let myself feel guilty about leading him on and then leaving him, but if this is how he plans to treat me, my disappearance won’t come as a surprise. If this is the kind of indifference he’s going to bring to our union, I’m going to be much less conflicted. In fact, this suits me just fine. Instead of having to learn about this place and worrying over being useful, I can keep to myself. Spring will be here in no time, and then I’ll be back home, pulling Phillip out of whatever tangle he makes for himself next.
Winter can’t last forever.
A short while later, I’m posted up in front of the fireplace in my quarters, my feet in a tub of steaming water while Morwen fusses over tucking a mass of blankets in around me, trapping in the heat from a hot water bladder.
She’s been muttering the same few phrases since I returned from the barracks, convinced I’ll catch my death, that the cold has already robbed me of my sense, or maybe they don’t have any at all in my world and that’s how I ended up here in the first place.
Charming.
I try to tell myself it’s not personal. That the way Morwen is fussing over me is the same way I’ve fussed over Phillip when he’s done something perilous. Fear and relief mixing into a sort of aggressive caretaking, but I don’t think that’s it. Not with Morwen. I thinkshewould take it personally if something happened to me on her watch.
I add a mental tally mark under her name, making her even yet again with Valenar and Xandril for who set the guards on me.
One thing has been made abundantly clear to me today: Xandril is not going to offer me any guidance when it comes to how I spend my time. And Morwen’s guidance isn’t any I’m inclined to take. So I’m left to figure things out for myself. Again.
I wish I had my spinning wheel. Sitting by the fire like this, fingers stiff from disuse, makes me homesick for it. I always think more clearly when focused on turning wool to yarn.
That’s it.
The answer’s been sitting right there. A way to pass the time until winter’s end, keep my distance from Xandril, and be marginally useful all in one. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.
“Would it be possible to set up a room for me to engage in leisure activity like you suggested?” I start, already able to predict what she’ll say about thespecificactivity.
Morwen straightens from fussing over the blankets, a glint of hope in her eye. This crazy human must have learned her lesson out in the cold today, I bet she’s thinking.
