Page 73 of A Requiem of Fire and Ice

He dresses in grey sweatpants, and his entire body has dried from the heat emanating from his skin. Even his hair fluffs and doesn’t seem to have a hint of dampness as he shrugs a T-shirt over his head and covers his bare body.

The phone on the bed vibrates. Prince Reen picks up the phone and places it on speaker before tossing it back onto the bed. “What do you want, brother?”

“Did you find her?”

“I have a lead. It’s enough,” Reen says. “Why? Do you worry I will kill her before you speak to her?”

“Yes.”

Prince Reen pauses from his pacing and eyes the phone. His lips tug into a frown, and there’s a hint of irritation when his brows knit together. He briefly feels it, then shrugs and paces again.

“How’s your new role as king?”

“Annoying. Do you know how many contracts I have created because Emmerton considers the castle a brothel? I can’t keep seeing Diana every waking moment. It’s exhausting.”

“Have you considered a wife?” Prince Reen asks. “Or are you still waiting for the perfect girl for you?”

There’s silence for a moment before he replies, “I’m holding off until after you have, uh…Pandora.”

Prince Reen stops pacing, and his jaw clenches. “You don’t even know her, yet you’re still fixated on a woman who killed our mother.”

“It could be a misunderstanding. You told me she’s an ice elemny. There are justifiable reasons for her⁠—”

“You’re acting just like Alad,” Prince Reen retorts sharply. “She murdered our mother. The penalty must be death, brother. I’m not interested in your infatuation, nor Alad’s fixation on a damn unawakened girl who’d betray you to get what she desires. Forget about her and marry Pavlina or whoever else!”

“Pavlina’s an old friend,” King Walkyer says, and I hear the utter confusion. “But whatever. As long as you understand I want her back here alive, I will leave you to your hunt.”

Prince Reen hangs up without answering King Walkyer.

Did I hear that correctly, though? Do I have a freakish secret admirer? How? Did I meet him somewhere? If so, where? They weren’t talking about me, were they? It has to be another elemny called Pandora…who’s an ice elemny…and killed his parents.

What the fuck? When did I meet King Walkyer? Did I miss something in my life? Well, I know my memory is dogshit, but still…They have returned to me, and none of them has him in them. I have more memories of that mutt than King Walkyer.

I want to groan and drag my hand down my face in utter confusion.

Okay, Pandora. Think of the positives. Right. Prince Reen can’t kill me. At least there’s a chance. King Walkyer wants me alive. That’s all that matters. I will stay alive until my trial. Then Prince Reen will kill me without caring whether King Walkyer wants me alive or dead.

So, yes, I will be alive for a time, but not for long. The mutt seems adamant about wanting me dead. I sense the animosity and hunger for my flesh rippling through his skin. He won’t let me leave once this is over.

The best course of action is to get the fucking passport in the Fountain of Silver and slip into the Kingdom of Cloud, hiding there for a time until his hunt steers him somewhere else. Then, I will escape to…where? They know I am an ice elemny. How?

No, it doesn’t matter.

What matters is that they know, so going to the Kingdom of Crystal would be a bad idea until I awaken. Then, I can build a fortress with pink crystals and hide in Elden Keep. It’s where my sister’s body lies, but whatever. If Prince Reen wants to go there and fight me, it will be on my terms.

Until then, I need to know where we are and how much information Maya has given them. Even if she has provided them with the location, would she give them the exact place I need to go? What are my chances of gaining the passport without Prince Reen being there?

Shifting out of my thoughts, Prince Reen sits on the edge of the bed and sighs. His hands clasp together, and the veins bulge in his arms when he tenses them. Dark red eyes glower at the ground, deep in thought. He remains in that position for what seems like an eternity. Then, he shuffles back, rests on the pillow, and places his arms over his face. Deep breaths help to relax the tightened muscles, and he falls asleep.

I bite my bottom lip at this greedy excitement withering inside me at the prospect of sneaking down from the shelf and slitting his throat as he sleeps. My fingers twitch at the idea, but I muster the strength to overcome the bloodlust and wait it out. Instead, I watch him until I realise we are moving. The sound of heavy rain turns into a drizzle, and silver light seeps into the window and drinks against Prince Reen’s golden skin.

Quick breaths hitch after some time, and the arms across his face move. Prince Reen rises like the fucking dead. Thin sheets cling to him when he sits upright, and through the light from the window, sweat glistens down his forehead.

Fire elemny rarely sweat. That’s what Xavier told me. So, a nightmare? Can he have nightmares? He is the fucking nightmare!

He shrugs off his damp shirt and tosses it in my direction. I jump slightly at the sound of the shirt hitting the door. The bed creaks when he stands. Taking a cigarette out of the first drawer of the bedside table, he presses it to his lips and snaps his fingers. Flames dance around his fingers. He inhales deep puffs, and an orange spark glows. Smoke moves in tendrils as he takes a deep breath and then exhales wisps of it through his nose and mouth. Dark eyes glow in the darkness, holding terror within them. Then, the glassy reflection becomes solid; his relaxed shoulders tighten, and his face turns guarded.

“Why her?” he says after another puff of smoke. My brow furrows, and I tilt my head to the side, wondering who he’s talking about. “I hate owing anyone.”