“To Tressa,” she sneers, and I shift a little closer to the grates. The heat from Dima’s magic rises from the wood, as though daring me to touch it, and I stay a hair’s breadth from the wood. I just want to be nosy. “Princess Rapunzel killed Modred, and Arthur will not stand for such an insult! We won’t stand for it!”
“Morgan, my dear–”
“None of that nonsense, Dima,” she seethes. “For now, we stay beneath the chosen king. Lancelot will soon rise.”
Dima shoots a glance over his shoulder, as though remembering me for the first time. If he is so sure I won’t escape,talking candidly in front of me shouldn’t be a problem. But I see the dash of fear in his eyes before he turns again. “Of course. Lancelot. What the Queen requires.”
The Queen? Which queen? So far as I remember, Camelot hasn’t had a queen in many years.
“Things are in place. I haven’t alerted the Queen of your plan yet. Are you sure it will work?”
Dima tenses, keeping his gaze away from me. “Yes. I have what I need. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Good. Did you soothe things over with the royals, then? We need alliances now, Dima, not adversaries. Tell me you’ve let go of that obsession with the princess. You cannot mistreat that poor girl.”
I slot away each detail for a later time, smirking when Dima turns to glare at me once more.Oh, Morgan, whoever you are, by all means, keep talking.
“I just want things to work out.” She sighs, Dima’s eyes remaining on me for another moment. There’s more muttering in the cave, but no one calls out. The glare he shoots me dares me to say something.
Morgan has no idea who is listening. The others down here might not have much say, but I could contact Ray or Zarev, both of whom have more knowledge of places like Camelot than I do. I could relay all the juicy details and see what comes of it.
Not that it makes much sense, but at this point, I don’t even care. It’ll be fun when this sham is over and I can make him squirm for a change.
“Morgan,” he cuts in, still glaring at me as he speaks. “There’s something I have to deal with. I’m planning dinner with the King and Queen soon; that should put things in motion. Can you wait a little longer?”
Kings and queens, there’s been a lot of mention of them. Too many for a single kingdom. It’d be nice if he dropped some more names.
Dima keeps watching me like I’m going to say something, and I wiggle my fingers at him instead and enjoy the scowl. Even with my blood drying and clotting from his wound, he’s not under my skin. Not even close. I’ve dealt with worse adversaries than this.
And I’m not about to open my mouth and give myself away to whoever is on the other end of the call. I don’t need anyone else knowing I’m this far south, searching for a needle. I’ve opened my mouth about it before, and it always seems to invite the wrong kind of attention.
As Dima ends the conversation, darkening the stone with the press of his hand, he shoots me a glare. “Don’t get any ideas now, Frosty. You’re not going to get to use any of the information you’ve gained.”
Gritting my teeth at the awful nickname, I force out a smile. He doesn’t need to know that anything he says can get under my skin, even that godawful nickname.We’ll see mage, we’ll see.
Chapter 5 Ban
When sleep does find me days later, for the first time in I don’t know how long, it’s accompanied by a memory from long ago. Before I ever fell through the ice or got crushed by stones. Back when I had no magic or power, and I was just another beggar in the Frostlands.
“You there?” someone says, and I do my best not to look in her direction. “Come! Don’t you wish to earn a bit of coin?”
The nobles in the Frostlands rarely pay much mind to me. I’m just another poor civilian, trying to survive the harsh weather. There are only a few who would bother to call out to me like this, and she’s done so a couple times before.
Unfortunately, my parents were poor merchants who often took on small tasks for some of the nobility, transporting messages and the like between those who didn’t want their personal correspondence tracked. I’ve spoken with her a handful of times and handed off some correspondence between herself and the Snow Queen that pays a pretty penny. Ever since she started traveling to Wonderland, her eyes have wandered. That’s when she started calling me and a few of the other young men, all in our twenties. People who catch her wandering eye when her bed is empty because her lover is in Wonderland.
“Come on,” she continues, unperturbed that I am ignoring her. For many around here, ignoring a noble would be such a frightful idea that they couldn’t possibly do so.Some would offer punishment for such a transgression, but she doesn’t want to make a scene. Not when she’s trying to call me back to draw me into her bed. That’s the only reason she’s ever taken an interest in me.
My standards have seriously dropped over the past few months since my parents died. I never would have listened to her calls before.
Something cold hits me in the back of the head, and I whip around to glare at her. She’s wearing her blood-red coat, a stark contrast to everything else in the Frostlands. She started dressing like this since she began traveling between here and Wonderland. Her fingers have glistening snow on them, and I realize she threw a damn snowball at me.
Lady Hartsell, the prime candidate for Queen of Wonderland. I haven’t figured out why, since she’s vapid beneath all those faux smiles, but the king over there likes her enough there have been rumors of the two of them. Hints at a proposal and plenty of other nonsense. It's all mindless chatter, but Hartsell herself isn’t what I would call a good, faithful wife.
She invites too many people into her bed for that. She’ll bring grief to the Court of Cards, I’m almost sure of it.
Hartsell offers me a sultry smile, tugging at the fur around her shoulders. “Well, do you want the coin or not?”
I eye her, letting my gaze wander from the boots up to her circular, extravagant hat. She’s woven a bit of bone into the side, a heart stitched with it, and if that isn’t a walking red flag, I don’t know what is. The woman wants attention so badly she makes herself stand out in the strangest ways.
