She gives me another beaming smile once I’m finished. “The Sandman is the King of Diamonds’ twin. Born second, he’s first in line for the throne after His Royal Highness.”
“Princess Neve!”
Sighing, she turns as she rises, pushing that long braid over her shoulder. I stand, too, towering over her by more than a foot, and bow when I spot who is searching for her.
“It was lovely to speak with you,” she hisses, nodding to me. “Oh! I didn’t get your name.”
I hesitate, licking my dry lips. Telling her could turn against me later. “It’s Ban.”
She smiles, stepping away before she heads toward the King. “I hope our paths cross again someday, Ban.”
In the chaos of everything that’s happened, I doubt she ever put the pieces together of a beggar and the man who became known as Jack Frost, the moniker I carry up here for everyone who doesn’t know my name. I was just one peasant in a long line of many, but for those few minutes, when the princess looked right at me, it felt like I really mattered.
Neve groans in her sleep, and I imagine her fight-or-flight instinct is kicking in. Fear will make her instinctively want to wake up, and it’s best if that happens within the palace. People need to know that the real queen has returned, and her mother needs to be unable to hide the truth.
When I lift Neve into my arms, I’m surprised to find she’s heavier than I expected. Her arms have a slight bulge to them, revealing a bicep, and I acknowledge that the Queen was fit and muscular before her frozen sleep took over. It’s amazing the muscle mass withstood such a long curse.
In the shadows, I hurry us down the mountain. My magical reserves scream at me to stop and rest, but there will be time for that soon. Neve is awake, and the past is going to be set free.
The kingdom has no barriers that can keep out Death, and I slip inside without a struggle. There are some spirits lingering here, far fewer than there were on the outskirts of town, where I need to do some work.
I wait until the guards sweep through, Neve trying to shift in my grip. Once I’m sure the coast is clear and I can set her within the palace walls without fear, I step out of the shadows to lay her on the cold stone.
She groans again, eyes fluttering almost open. My lips tilt up into a smirk, taking in the opulent palace she’s been absent from for a century.
“Okay, Your Majesty. I brought you back to the palace. Now it’s up to you to remind the Frostlands why you are the true queen.”
As though she somehow hears me, her eyes snap open and she sits up carefully. I’m back in the shadows like an illusion before she can say a word.
Neve struggles to her feet, taking in where she is as the next patrol sweeps through. The two guards freeze down the hallway from us, only seeing one person.
And she’s the most important person in the land.
They exchange a look before one takes off, and the other rushes toward her, hands held up. The other’s cries echo through the vaulted ceilings of the palace, making Neve’s shoulders droop at his words. “Alert the Dowager Queen! The long-lost Ice Queen has returned!”
Chapter 9 Neve
I recognize none of the faces that peer back at me in shock. Even as I force my weary body to stand, throwing back my shoulders as I attempt to look unbothered, the wide eyes of the soldier before me belong to a man I know I’ve never met.
How can that be possible? I made sure that I knew every guard, every name. The watcher before me hesitates, unsure what to do. He offers me a hand to help me stand, but I shrug it off with a glare. While I know it’s not fair, and that he’s not doing anything wrong, my hands are starting to shake while a sweat threatens to break through my cool facade.
My shoulder feels torn; I guess it occurred during my strange transfer from where I last was until now, which didn’t get it fixed. No matter, I refuse to show the pain in the wake of uncertainty. I can handle this.
“Take me to the Dowager Queen,” I say, pulling myself up to my full height. I barely scrape five feet on a good day, but that is beside the point.
“Yes, Your Royal Highness. This way, please,” he says, turning to hurry away, quick on his feet. I find myself sweeping my gaze around the hall, expecting to see Ban, but he’s nowhere in sight. My mind spins—it’s hard to remember what happened earlier. Did I really make it all the way down the mountain to collapse inside without being seen?
It doesn’t sound right, but as I step lightly to catch up with the guard, I banish the thought. There are more importantthings that need my attention, none of which include the mysterious man of my nightmares or the pain in my shoulder.
The main entrance at the front gates is lined with guards just as I remember, which begs the question again: how did I end up lying in an adjacent hall? I can’t do the trick that Ban does, rematerializing in different spots, and as far as I know, my mother lacks that talent as well. The entire hallway stiffens as I appear, following in the wake of the frenzied soldier.
I focus on each guard as we make our way down the silent space, their eyes facing forward, not one of them deviating from the frozen stance. It’s almost eerie how silent they are.
Father kept a strict regime when he ruled, ensuring the guards were ready for anything, but not like this. There was life in the men who watched the palace under Father, but these men are so frozen I would believe them statues.
Glancing once over my shoulder, I stare at the far-off gate that leads to the town. It is up, as usual, a true barrier keeping us away from even the nobility of the Frostlands. It doesn’t seem much has changed in my absence.
Two guards with tall, heavy staffs stand at the entrance to the throne room, one on either side of the elaborately carved doors. This is different from what I remember; there used to only be one guard, and his staff was much thinner than the behemoths the new pair now hold. Their faces are unfamiliar and unflinching, moving as a unit when they finally speak.
