“And how long ago was that?”
Mother’s eyes dart around, and she must realize there’s no avoiding the answer. Why would she try so hard to hide it? “Your father died one hundred years ago, Neve. You’ve been missing ever since.”
~~~
I let the shock settle over me as Nyra guides me down familiar halls to my old room. I haven’t been this way in many years according to my mother but to me it feels as if no time has passed.My area is a large space that takes up a good portion of one wing. If I didn’t want to leave my room for the day, I could accomplish everything as the reigning ruler from the comfort of my suite.
Nyra isn’t a talker, and I’m too lost in my head to ask her anything. I’m now realizing that no one bothered to correct Mother when she said a century had passed. No one looked confused or shocked, either. They all acted as if it were a fact.
I’m still hoping to learn this is my mother’s poor attempt at a joke.
While I was lost in my dreamscape, the Sandman hinted at this. Ban said the same thing but I trust the Sandman more than the King Killer. And now Mother has confirmed it.
It doesn’t feel like I’ve aged by a century. Even Mother seems to have retained her youth, which gives me more pause than the sleeping for a century remark, considering her curse.
“If Your Royal Highness needs any assistance, I am here to serve,” Nyra says, and I simply stare at her. None of thismakes sense, and the last person I want to ask for anything is my strange new attendant. I wish my old friend Viere was here to be my last-in-waiting instead.
Studying the room, I take in the bed, coated in dust with a blanket that appears musty and moth-eaten. My wardrobe is closed, the books I once treasured in my rooms are probably beyond disrepair, and all the sheet music I kept on my drawing table is gone.
We might live in the Frostlands, but this is the coldest room I’ve been in since my return.
There’s a haze near the farthest window, and I glance in that direction as misery eats away at me. I can’t decide if the lack of caring or endless mourning allowed Mother to let my former suite slip into such a state. I’m worried about what my other rooms hold. At least most of my personal items were here, or they were last time.
My gaze snaps to the window again when a figure takes form, and my hands tighten into fists as he comes into focus. I’m tired of fighting today.
But, surprisingly, his gaze is on the door instead of me. “An Icebound spirit who can be seen by the living. What kind of trick is this?”
To my surprise, Nyra turns and bares her teeth at him. That’s the most life I’ve seen from this girl the whole time. “A Reaper.”
“A what?” I ask, looking between the two of them. The more I jerk around, the more my shoulder throbs, and I find myself gripping it instead of hiding the hurt. Before, I wanted nothing more than to blast the man’s head clean off his shoulders. I still very much want to do so, the burning ache at losing my father rawer than before as I look at the state of my room. It’s depressing.
Not just my room, but my memory. My place is the palace. It’s all been cast aside and left to collect dust. Who allowed this?
Ban’s eyes settle on me, and as I feared, he’s cataloging every detail about me. “Hurt your arm in the fall?”
He doesn’t guess at anything else, and I bite back my pride at how easy it is for him to read me right now. “None of your concern, mage.”
Ban shrugs and turns his attention to Nyra. I pause and take a moment to look between the two of them. He doesn’t appear to be threatening her, but his response is strange too. I’ve never heard of a Reaper before, and the Icebound are supposed to be legend. “Relax, spirit. I’m not going to reap you, at least not before I understand you.”
What in the world is he talking about?“Did you say reap?”
Ban’s gaze slides to me, giving me all of two seconds of his attention before he surveys the room. “I hate to say it, Your Majesty, but your cabin on the mountainside was nicer than this.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I snap, embarrassment hardening my voice.
“And what a splendid way to welcome home the reigning queen,” Ban says dryly, looking at me quickly before his eyes glance back to Nyra. She’s just standing there, eyeing Ban, her expression blank. “You won’t breathe a word of me being here to anyone, will you? Especially not the Dowager Queen”
Nyra hesitates, her eyes darting between the two of us. She certainly doesn’t look like a spirit, but she still has little expression on her deathly white face. “My allegiance is to the Queen.”
“Which queen?” he asks, the hint of a tease in his voice.
Nyra darts her eyes to me. “The true queen.”
“Hmm.” Ban wisely keeps his distance and I wiggle my fingers to call my ice magic forward just in case. He’s too relaxed, too cocky, and it makes me nervous. “If you speak of seeing me, spirit, I’ll send you into the next life. Make no mistake about it.”
“I answer what is asked of me,” Nyra says, folding her hands in front of her. “Nothing less, nothing more.”
“I suppose you might not blab then.” Ban sighs, turning his gaze to me. “We don’t need Ronnie knowing I’m here yet.”
