Since I am alone with no one to share my struggles, I’ve decided to make the journey anyway. If I’m turned away by the greedy royals I will only let myself down. After my parents died and Lady Hartsell lost interest in me as her wedding with the King of Diamonds loomed closer, I found my funds running painfully low.
Somehow, on my journey through the castle, I collapsed in the grand hall leading to the throne room. Guards shuffle us along for the most part, and my fellow beggars bypass me in fear of earning the King’s ire. I’m not surprised, but the guards don’t need to be such dicks about it.
“You do not speak for me, Captain,” the princess says, her dark hair twisting down her back. The end of the braid is close to my face, distracting as I try to get to my hands and knees. The ache in my stomach makes me want to stay on the ground forever. “How can our citizens be this malnourished? Go, the line is long. Fetch him something so he doesn’t perish here.”
The princess is kind, but I imagine the cold north will eventually freeze that out of her.
There are murmurs behind us, and she grabs my arm when I push up until I can sit. She urges me to stand, yet I just look up at her and take in her appearance.
The capital city in the Frostlands is built like a maze, with the outer walls of the city connected to the slums by the gates. There’s a path that weaves from the wall toward the center of the kingdom, leading to a secondary set of gates that opens up to the official palace and the docks beyond, though they are largely unused. I live between the outer wall and the palace gates, below a tiered division that separates the nobility from everyone else, yet they are still in a different area outside the official palace walls.
I used all the spare change I had to travel here and implore the King for aid beyond the walls and across the land. Even a job in the palace would be better suited than begging like this.
The princess herself is whispered about, a blend of King Andor’s aristocratic features and upbringing and Queen Snedronningen’s sharper features from her home kingdom in Ander Son’s Way across the water. The princess has blue eyes and dark hair like mine, with pale skin and an angular face, and I know from the whispers that she’s desired by many. She’s pretty, something that statues of the royals often leave out.
She’s a little younger than I am. I’m closing in on twenty-five, so she’s somewhere close to twenty. But a kind soul all the same, a gift not yet squandered by greed.
“Do not fear,” she says, a gorgeous smile spreading across soft lips. The people filing into the palace around us are slowing, staring at the spectacle of the Crown Princess and a beggar sitting together just off the main path. “My parents seeyour struggles. They know your worries. We are working to make life easier for all of those who live within the Frostlands.”
Her voice is full of promise and belief, as if thinking things will get better will make it so. Her slim fingers are still wrapped around my arm, and when I glance down surprise hits me.
There are specks on the sleeve where snowflakes and frost cling to the threadbare material, and she quickly pulls her hand back when she notices my stare. “Apologies, you must already be so cold. Magic is something that’s a little tough to learn.”
My eyes widen, and the strangeness of this situation is enough to forget how cold I am. The palace is warm, fighting off the chill that always lingers in my bones and making me more and more aware of the ache in my stomach from lack of food. Before I can respond, another guard, not the captain, appears with food.
Bread. It looks warm and soft. The princess remains kneeling on the floor at my side and takes a piece. It’s some type of roll, and it smells heavenly. “Here, eat.”
Instinctively, I don’t want to trust her kindness. Why should the princess choose to give me food in a long line of starving citizens? She watches me think it over, her gaze darting to the line of people waiting outside the throne room doors.
It must click for her, and she takes the dish from the guard. “Guards. Get enough to feed everyone while they wait. They came all this way. Why don’t we offer food for their long journey?”
The guard hesitates, looking between the two of us then the line of close to a hundred other people. “Princess Neve–”
“I know there’s enough,” she says, her brows furrowing. “We are preparing a banquet later for the nobles. Surely we cangive bread of all things to the travelers who seek an audience with the King and Queen?”
He looks behind him helplessly, probably for the cowardly captain who sent him with the bread. “I’m not certain King Andor–”
“King Andor can take it up with me if he likes,” she replies briskly, standing as she lifts her chin. It doesn’t matter that she’s smaller than the guard; she’s more fierce. “I’m supposed to learn how to rule this land. I’ll start by not starving the people begging for help. Tell the cooks to bring enough for everyone waiting. If it cuts into the excess for the nobility later, so be it.”
I’m mildly impressed as the guard gives in, bows, and scurries off. She turns, holding the fluffy roll out to me, and winces. “Apologies, this one is a little squished now.”
I take it anyway, my stomach begging me to devour it in one bite. Instead I rip off a chunk, staring at her as she watches, like she’s waiting to see that she’s helped.
A smile splits her face, and she remains crouched beside me as she continues to chatter. I can hear people behind us as the guards begin distributing food. I’ve never seen anything like this in the palace.
Her bright eyes meet mine again. “Don’t worry, we’re going to make it right. My parents want to change their ways from what I hear. The Snow Queen is going to bring a new life to the Frostlands. Just wait and see. And the King is excited to usher in a new age.”
I stay quiet, letting the princess talker. She isn’t as rigid and formal as her parents appear to be. From the way she’s struck up a conversation, I think she might be lonely. Why else would she want to talk to me about royal affairs while we wait in the line for help? For all I know, she should be in the throne room herself.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she whispers, dropping her voice. Her bright white teeth nibble her bottom lip, and I can’t remember a time that I saw either the King or Queen hesitate like this. “But Lady Hartsell is going to help Mother. She’s marrying the King of Diamonds soon. It’s all anyone can talk about. Have you heard about that?”
This girl really wants to just be a normal girl, gossiping about royal affairs and talking to a peer. It would be touching if my situation weren’t so dire.
As I take another bite, she continues. I don’t think it matters much whether I reply or not. “The King of Diamonds, he’s in Wonderland. That’s where Lady Hartsell is now, though she’s supposed to be a Frostlands citizen. Can you imagine a Frostlands noblewoman marrying into the Wonderland Royal Family? The Sandman will have such a fit.”
“Sandman?” I ask, choking down another bite. Her eyes widen at my voice before she turns to the guard lingering at her shoulder. “Water would be good too! Please!”
A glass appears before the princess almost out of thin air, and I take it before she can think twice. It’s a welcome coolness to my aching throat, and unlike the bread, I have no problem finishing it in one go.
