“Outmaneuvered you?”
He hisses in the lowest, coldest tone I have heard yet, “You have made the gravest of errors.”
We stand nose to nose. Not many people can make me feel small, but I stand only as tall as his chin, and the sudden wind stirring at my back reveals how quickly his temper flashes to the surface. I am reminded again of who the North Wind is: an immortal who has lived to see a thousand beginnings and endings, while I am but the last leaf clinging to the autumn branch.
I do not want to fear him.
I would be a fool not to fear him.
“No,” I whisper, closing the remaining distance. The heat of his breath brushes my chilled lips. “You have.”
Tension hits an unseen peak. His nostrils flare in response to my challenge, the gauntlet I have tossed down.
This is not a marriage.
This is war.
He steps back, and frost rushes between us, driving back the warmth that had gathered from our proximity. My heart pounds sickeningly.
I am not Elora. I am not gentle. I am a creature whose teeth were sharpened on suffering, and above all else, I will survive.
“Get her out of my sight!” he roars.
Two guards drag me from the room into a narrow passage marked by identical blue doors. With a burst of strength, I ram my body against the man to my right, tripping him in the process. The grip on my arm loosens. I pull free, tearing down the long, dark hall of the neglected citadel.
The men’s shouts grow distant as one hallway bleeds into the next. Yellow doors and glass doors, screened doors and lopsided doors. One of these must lead outside, surely. I choose one at random and push inside.
The room is dusty enough to rival the rest of the fortress. A large square window sits watchfully over rolling farmland. Not a speck of snow in sight.
“—think she went this way—” The voice dissolves into its own echo.
I rattle the windowpane to no avail. Locked. But I spot a wooden chair in the corner and quickly lift it upright. With a mighty swing, I slam it against the window as hard as I can. My arms jar from the impact, the crash deafening. Not even a scratch on the glass. How is that possible?
“I heard something. Down here!”
I make a hasty exit, turn down another hallway, and blindly shove through another door.
Only quick reflexes save me from imminent death. Below, waves ram into cliffside walls, which I stand on the very edge of, toeing the damp, crumbling rock. A spill of unbroken sky pools so near I might reach out and touch its star-flecked surface.
Rough, salt-soaked wind plucks at my hair and dress. I’ve never seen the sea. I’ve never seen water this vast, free of winter’s frozen trappings.
Something slithers around my ankle and tightens. A yank, and I’m upside down. My skirts fall around my head, revealing my undergarments. “What is this?” I struggle against an unseen captive.
Boots enter my line of vision. “These doors lead to many places, though I have told you before, they will not lead you to escape. And while we’re on the subject, neither will Mnemenos, which thaws only at my command. If you attempt to cross the Shade without my blessing, you will find yourself stripped of your soul at best, or sent to the Chasm at worst.” The Frost King pauses. “You are stuck here. You might as well get used to it.”
“I despise you,” I spit.
He is calm, almost apathetic, as he replies, “You are neither the first, nor the last.”
My fury tastes alive, and I would see him experience it, too, if only to witness that iron control fracture.
I drift back across the threshold, where the two guards I managed to evade earlier grip my arms so tightly they’re sure to leave marks on my skin. I’m dragged backward, through a doorway, down and down and down a set of stairs.
Underground, the silence is so absolute it crushes my ear drums. Not a single candle or lamp. Only cells, so many cells. Empty now, but what manner of prisoners once occupied them?
At the very end of the tunnel, the guards open one of the barred doors and toss me inside. Keys rattle as the lock clicks into place.
“Wait.” I lunge, catching the bars. “Please.”
