“Well, now that I have the book, I plan on reading it. More than either of these two guys ever did.” She gives Ray a pointed look. “And I’ll assume, since you are speaking to other people, that you haven’t found much in the spellbook?”
Fuck, I haven’t even opened the spellbook since Odette handed it to me. Truth be told, I thought it would be harder to wake Neve from her sleep. I thought an incantation would be needed since she was trapped under the spell for so long.
Turns out, all I had to do was prick her finger and piss her off.
“It’s on my to-do list,” I say carefully, and Odette offers me a knowing smirk. “There’s been a lot going on.”
“I can tell,” she replies, and Ray moves out of my line of sight again. “I won’t ask about the Queen, orQueens, then. I assume you’re working things out?”
That’s an understatement.“Yes.”
“Then so are we,” she says with more conviction. “We’re going to explore the beanstalk, reopen the tavern, and set things right. What on earth are you going to do? You can’t wait for a history lesson I don’t have.”
She has a point. Her confidence is almost infectious. “I’m going to show Neve who the Snow Queen truly is.”
Chapter 11 Neve
Sleep eludes me the entire first night. I can’t handle closing my eyes for long, the fear of dropping back into the dreamscape and never waking up again keeps me on high alert. By the second, I’m utterly exhausted, but terror wins out. Even as exhaustion clings to me, I can’t force sleep to come. It’s too dangerous. I might never wake again if the frozen sleep steals me a second time.
I can’t see him, but I get the feeling Ban is here. I can’t quite explain it, but there’s a frosty chill at my back sometimes, or lingering down the hall when I walk around the palace. Maybe he’s doing that thing again with his magic. Somehow, he controls the shadows, too. With everything else going on, I don’t remember what, if anything, he said about that. But, seeing as he possesses two types of magic, he’s twice as dangerous as he once was.
For three solid days after my return, Mother avoids talking with me in private. It’s certainly a feat since I go out of my way to talk to her, my irritation sky-high. All I want are answers to what’s happened for the past century, and how either of us is alive right now.
Every time I think I’ll get the chance to speak to her, she finds something else to tell me about current affairs. The staff are who I should know by name, the nobility who are expecting to dine at a ball in the palace in a little under a week's time, whothe guards and the cooks and the cartographers and ladies-in-waiting and mapsmen are…
It’s overwhelming. And at the end of the day, it’s a lot of information I simply cannot retain. I was supposed to have a guiding hand to lead me into being queen, not a list of names I will surely forget.
On the fourth day, when Nyra coolly mentions the bags beneath my eyes, I snap. We’re supposed to be in a meeting, but everything under discussion is frivolous and has nothing to do with current affairs. “Enough of this nonsense, Mother. It is my throne you act upon, and all the affairs you mention have nothing to do with our immediate needs. Are you planning to explain my absence for a century at the ball? What about our people I see through the windows begging for scraps?”
Icy silence settles over the room. We’re in the middle of discussions about this ball, and it sounds so… so ridiculous, I can’t wrap my head around it.
Mother forces a smile, but there’s quelled anger hiding beneath. “Your Highness, my apologies. We don’t want to overwhelm you after the ordeal you have been through–”
“Myordealwould be expedited if you would only speak the truth,” I retort sharply. I can’t make myself care if I’m speaking too boldly before the court, including several nobles Mother brought in to discuss the particulars of this upcoming ball, and apparently, the guest of honor.
Whispers begin around us, a noblewoman I’ve already forgotten the name of opening her fan to whisper into the ear of the man at her side. It’s absurd. Who the hell carries a handfanin the ice and snow?
“Queen Neve,” Mother says, her voice a hiss. “We can discuss the nature of what’s happened–”
“Obviously, wecannot, or we would have already,” I interrupt, turning my attention from her. Four days withouta single explanation is unacceptable. A ball shouldn’t take precedence over telling me about the state of the world in my absence. Mother isn’t trying to include me in things, for whatever reason, and I refuse to be blindsided. I’m not ill, just out of touch. And no one’s doing a damn thing to fix that.
Turning, I focus my attention on the Captain of the Guard. Mother told me his name, that he’s the great-grandson of the man who was the head of Father’s personal guard while he ruled. I don’t know whether that will make him an ally to me or not. “Bromley, was it?”
He seems to startle at being addressed, but it quickly fades as he looks between myself and Mother. My irritation spikes at his indecision on who to listen to but his eyes finally land on me. “Sir William Bromley, Your Radiance. At your service.”
“Your duty is to the reigning queen or king,” I remind him curtly. “I have heard a few things about what’s happening in the Frostlands and Mystica, but nothing about current events. That seems more important than planning a frivolous party. Tell me, how does the kingdom fare with the return of the Queen? Is there a state of unrest, or much like this meeting, are we sweeping that news beneath the rug?”
There go the whispers again, and I can feel Mother shooting daggers at me from the other end of the table. In the past, I was never this outspoken or brash, but that was last century. Everything I once knew has been turned upside down, and those around me do not seem concerned about what’s happening in the Frostlands outside of this damn ball.
Bromley swallows, ducking his head. For being the Captain of the Guard, I don’t see any sort of ferocity. Hopefully he’s more dependable if an emergency ever occurs, like the Queen disappearing for a century. “Well, Your Grace, the ball is to celebrate the arrival of an important guest.”
“Bromley,” Mother snarls.
I glance her way. “An important guest? If they’re so important that it supersedes updating me on matters ofmykingdom, I should know who the guest is.”
The whispers from before are gone, and it’s pin-drop silent as Mother stares at me. The two Icebound she keeps close seem to almost lean toward her, like they are silently getting ready to defend her.
What on earth from?
