“Oh?”
Oskar glanced at her. “I know Farrin Graydim terrifies you. Yes, you’re eager to beat him, but the way he can turn your magic against you frightens you.”
Rakel stiffened a wince. He was right. Part of what made Farrin’s power so maddening was that he could affect her magic. Shealwayshad her magic. It was her only constant companion. It was more than unsteadying to know that another could wrest control from her. That, and the strange gestures of affection he occasionally bestowed upon her put her greatly off balance.
“It will be frightening,” she admitted, “but I am certain Liv and I can win.”
“Very well. I believe you,” Oskar said. He rested an elbow on Frigid’s back. The reindeer eyed him but stayed put. “But that does raise another point. If we are successful and the Chosen army is trounced, your brother will be free and will very likely take command.”
“He is King,” Rakel said.
“And you have no wish to be Queen,” Oskar said.
“You asked me previously, and my answer remains no.”
“Could you explainwhy?”
“Maybe when I was younger—and angrier and more bitter—I would have been interested, but not now. First, it wouldn’t be long until other countries sent assassins after me—having a talented magic user in leadership is a dangerous situation and creates an unequal channel of power. And also…working with you and General Halvor has taught me just how difficult it is to be a leader. Lives depend upon you. The future of a generation—of acountry—will be determined by your actions. I…I would rather be the Snow Queen and be free…with my magic.”
“You’re finally accepting your title, are you?” Oskar asked with a teasing smile that mellowed into a more serious expression. “Princess, even if you choose to let your brother rule, the people will still see you as their Snow Queen. For what you are doing, for the sacrifices you have made, you will have their hearts and loyalty whether you want them or not. If you want Steinar to be the king, you will have to lead them to follow him.”
Rakel weighed out his words, and recalled Trygvvi’s declaration of being her servant.Oskar is right…though I think it will only be for some, not all.
“What will you do if he tries to demote Halvor?” Oskar asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“I do not know much about my brother, but I would like to think he wouldn’t do such a stupid thing. If we win tomorrow, it will be because of General Halvor’s careful planning. Most of the soldiers are infatuated with him. If Steinar tried to change his position, the army would revolt.”
“Then what if he tries to orderyouabout?”
“What do you mean?”
Oskar stroked Frigid’s glossy coat. “What if he tries to use you as a weapon and orders you to do things you do not wish to do?”
Rakel laughed. “If he orders me to kill, I will leave, and there is nothing he can do to stop me.”
“Good,” Oskar nodded.
Rakel blinked. “I beg your pardon?
“I wanted to be sure you would retain your independence even if your brother becomes the commander. You must be your own advocate—for yourself and the other magic users. You’re the only one with the power to do so.”
“What were you going to do if I said I would accept whatever Steinar ordered?”
“It is to be hoped that your brother never finds out,” Oskar said with a cheerful smile. He reached over and ruffled Rakel’s hair—mussing her braid.
Rakel had the very dim thought that he had done this previously, a long, long time ago. “Why did you become my attendant, Oskar?” she asked.
“Oh, Princess. That is a long story that is better suited for another day,” he said, roughly patting Frigid. The reindeer flattened his ears. “Come. It’s time for dinner.”
Oskar, Rakel, and Frigid started for camp—admiring the colors the setting sun painted on the snowy mountainsides.
Perhaps, Rakel wondered, I was not always as alone as I thought.
CHAPTER 16
CURSES IN OSTFOLD
Rakel shifted on Frigid’s back, digging her fingers in his fluffy neck fur to keep her balance. Frigid stamped a hoof impatiently. They should have started the attack on Ostfold already, but Rakel was embarrassed to admit that riding was more daunting than she imagined it would be. As she hadn’t ridden anything before, the saddle—little more than a fleece blanket with a linen top embroidered with beautiful snowflakes that cinched around Frigid’s belly—felt foreign. As did sitting astride it. What was particularly daunting was that instead of having a bridle, Frigid wore a strap that encircled his head and looped down around his cheeks and jaw. Rakel gripped the reins with a strangle hold.
