Fantasy of Frost (The Tainted Accords Book 1) (10 page)

All sound is sucked out of the room. There are a few shouted greetings and cheers, but these fade out as the crowd senses something is amiss. Perhaps tragedy is written on the delegate’s faces.

Being in the middle of the group, I’m unable to see past the delegates large frames, especially as they are made bulkier by the cold weather clothing they all wear. Our footsteps echo as we approach the far end of the room.

The group comes to a halt.

I peek between the delegates, but can only make out the bottom of a throne.

Rhone shifts slightly, clearing my line of sight. My mouth drops at what I can see of the King.

He sits leaning to one side with his left leg sprawled out. I cannot see anything above his hips. But I can already tell that where Kedrick had been tall and graceful, his brother was taller still and built entirely of muscle.

There is a moment where we wait uncertainly, then Malir moves forward with a small step. He does not get a chance to speak. The King’s voice stops him partway through a gesture.

“My brother is dead,” the chilling voice says. I shiver at the menace in it. This man is dangerous. How did he know that? I realise the Prince would have greeted him first if he were here.

My growing friendship with the delegates had fooled me into thinking my reception would be easier. The threat in the King’s voice dispels these hopes instantly.

“Yes, my King,” Malir says, his head bowing so his greying hair falls over his face.

His words are met with a wave of gasps and whispers from the court. Despite the King being the judge of whether I live or die, my heart fills with sadness for him. To have his brother’s death so publically revealed, and be forced to put on such a collected front before being able to grieve, would be horrible. I could not imagine it. The sadness turns inwards. If things had gone differently, Kedrick could have been introducing me to the King and the court as a friend. I swallow this wishful thinking down before it overwhelms me.

“How?” the voice continues. I cannot gauge anything from his tone. “Falling off Oscala?” he asks.

I can hear the deep breath Malir takes before answering.

“An arrow to the chest.” The people closest to the King gasp. It is obvious they hadn’t expected anything more than an accident.

“Who?” The King’s voice surrounds us somehow. I feel like I’m being hunted. My blood beats in my ears as my judgement looms.

The future of our worlds is hanging in the balance. If he kills me it will mean war, unavoidable war. I know if I can determine who the assassin is, then I can make all of this go away. I can prove Osolis was innocent of any wrong doing. But I need to be alive to do it. If the King values peace in any measure, he will have to let me live. I will explain my suspicions and show him the arrow if I need to, though I prefer to keep this knowledge hidden for now. I knew that by showing the arrow I could clear Osolis straight away, but avenging Kedrick was more important right now. I would only show him if I absolutely had to.

“We don’t know who the assassin was,” Malir replies. “When Rhone and I found them, whoever killed the Prince had been gone many hours.”  I see the King’s leg shift as he sits up from his sprawl.

“You said them. Who else was with him?” he asks, demanding an answer.

Malir looks back at me with an apology in his eyes. The King leans forward, dangling massive forearms over his knees. His arms and hands are bare of jewellery.

“The Tatuma Olina, the…Princess of Osolis, was with him.”

The King stands. I feel Roman jerk behind me, startled by the abrupt movement. I can only see his massive boots as he stalks up to the group before coming to a stop in front of Malir.

“And why were you and Rhone not with my brother?” His tone is casual, but my heartbeat triples at the threat I hear in his words. It was not Malir and Rhone’s fault. Should I say something in their defence? I await Malir’s answer with clenched hands.

“We were on watch outside Prince Kedrick’s quarters. When we entered the room early the next morning to awaken him, he was not there. We began tracking him immediately.” The undertones of fear in Malir’s voice make me quake. If Malir is scared of the King, I know I should be terrified.

“He…snuck out. To see a girl. Why?” Bafflement forces its way out of the King’s mouth. It is the first emotion I have heard from him. Maybe he is human after all.

There is no sound in the room.

Malir speaks quietly, but I doubt his words are missed by anyone. “Because he loved her.” The room gasps collectively and sounds of disgust and surprise swell in the hall. There is a sharp intake of breath from the King. The room hushes suddenly, I look around in confusion.

“He fell in love with a Solati?” the King says more than asks, spitting the words out as though they taste sour. “He snuck out to see her like a young boy?” he continues, his astonishment evident. I grit my teeth.

No one dares to speak.

I marvel at the openness of his ruling. There is no scenario I can imagine where my mother would have this conversation in front of her court.

The King walks slowly back to his throne and lowers himself down in weary comparison to his energy filled movements of a moment before. It has been silent for so long, I jump when Malir resumes talking.

“Once we discovered Kedrick’s body, it was unclear as to whether the rest of the delegates were at risk.”

Finally, I’m going to hear what happened in the days after his death.

“Rhone returned to gather the others and steal some of the fast beasts Solati ride between the rotations. It was easy enough as we were already packed in readiness to depart,” Malir continues. “I buried Kedrick as best I could and stayed with the unconscious Princess. It was decided between us to flee Osolis so news of his death would reach you. We got a good head start. A large group of villagers tried to attack us when they saw we carried their Tatuma, but we were able to escape. We had to…incapacitate the guards at the entrance to the great stairway. They were not killed. We destroyed the rope ladder to the first stair so we could not be followed. We have been travelling since the night of his death.” Whispers start up behind us.

I am disappointed with his brief explanation, most of this I had already guessed myself.

The King absorbs this before he speaks, a striking difference to what Kedrick would have done. His thoughts would have already been blurted out. I blink back a stinging in my eyes, surprised. I have not cried at all since the night he died. What a time for them to want to start. I dig my dirty nails into my grimy palm.

“You questioned the Tatuma before you left?” he asks, though he says it more like a statement than a question. There is a ripple through the delegates around me. Some make sounds of disapproval and a few hang their heads, but almost as one they look at Blaine.

The King must direct his attention to Blaine also because his face blanches. I almost feel sorry for him, knowing I will soon be receiving the same attention.

“The Tatuma was unconscious for several days after Prince Kedrick’s death. Malir hit her too hard over the head,” Blaine says in a shaking voice, throwing a glare at the others.

“Why did you hit her?” the King asks.

“The Tatuma was…upset. The noise would have attracted unwanted attention,” Malir says.

“She was wailing like a child,” Blaine puts in. I raise my eyebrows at his comment. I don’t remember doing this. But it explains why Malir used force.

Blaine continues. “We tried to question her on our way up, but she refused to answer,” he says in a shaking voice, throwing a glare at the others.

I’m almost thankful to Blaine for telling me what I have wanted to know. At least I had been unconscious the whole time. I had worried I had gone temporarily insane in those few days, especially with how I had been upon waking.

“She was grieving, you idiot! Anyone could see she wasn’t ready to talk of it,” Sanjay bursts out. I have never seen Sanjay so angry, or angry at all really. The back of his neck is so red, it almost matches his red hair.

The King stands so fast, I take a step back, standing on Roman’s foot.

“Sorry,” I whisper. Roman squeezes my right arm in reassurance or in farewell, I don’t know which.

“You brought her here?” the King breathes. “Where is she?”

Whispers start up, growing louder until people are yelling and shouting to be heard.

The delegates sigh, and exchange glances with the others around them. I’m gratified they don’t appear to want to throw me to the fires anymore. Not that it helps me in the least.

Malir and Rhone move to the side, followed by Sanjay and Adnan who stand directly in front of me. The other delegates step away from my sides and I feel Roman distance himself from my back.

I take my good hand out of the coat pocket and straighten my shoulders before looking at Kedrick’s brother.

My head tilts back, and then back some more. Solis, he is tall. If he stood still I could believe he was a tree.

I do not breathe as he takes me in.

I take the chance to do the same.

His blue eyes are exactly like Kedrick’s were. But where I had always felt as though Kedrick could feel my gaze through my veil, I get the chilling sensation the King can see through my veil. That he can see inside me.

His penetrating eyes make me want to hide.

His hair is darker than Kedrick’s was, and where Kedrick’s hair had been cut short, the King’s was almost to his shoulders. Aside from these features I cannot see any other resemblance. Kedrick was strong, but he did not exude pure power as this man does.

“This…is the Princess?” the King asks, looking up at the delegates with raised eyebrows. “My brother loved a child?”

My eyes narrow. I was short by the standards of their females and in oversized clothes, but I was taller than a child. I keep quiet, aware he is lashing out, testing me.

“Does it talk?” he says to the room, there are a few laughs from the court. Blaine joins in and loathing fills me at the sound. Adnan and Sanjay throw him a filthy look.

The King stalks down the platform towards me.

In every action he makes, there is the suggestion of a threat. I have never felt more like running in my life. His expression is blank, but I have no doubt he is taking in everything; my veil, the empty sleeve of my coat, the reactions of the men around me who stand tense and shift closer to me as the King draws near.

I take a breath and speak.

“It does. I was not aware you had asked a question of me, King Jovan.” His eyes narrow at my slight reprimand. Rudeness was probably not my best choice, but if I was allowed to live I couldn’t show weakness. Aquin is in my ear; start how you mean to go on. I also hear him saying; pick your battles, but as far as I was concerned, I had picked my battle by not trying to fight eleven delegates on Oscala.

“Take off your veil, I want to see your face,” he says, waving a hand at my head.

“No,” I say straight away. There are loud gasps from both the delegates and the court at my refusal.

Adnan steps in. “Uh, King Jovan. The Tatuma never takes off her veil. Kedrick said we must never ask her of it.” I turn my head to Adnan, my heart breaking a little at hearing this unknown fact about Kedrick. This explains why they had never tried to remove my veil while on Oscala, they were respecting Kedrick’s wishes The King gives a low hum at Adnan’s information.

“Are you crippled?” He gestures to my arm, his eyes still on Adnan whose breathing had become shallow.

My mouth drops open behind my veil. Solis, even Sanjay does not compare to this boldness. I wonder if the King is trying to unbalance me. 

“No, I hurt my wrist in a fall while climbing Oscala,” I say. The King raises an eyebrow for translation, still staring at Adnan who blurts out in a higher voice than normal. “The great stairway.”

Kedrick’s brother snorts, breaking his gaze and striding a few steps away as though this confirms his judgement of me. “The great stairway is not for the weak.”

I say nothing, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. But I do roll my eyes under the safety of my veil.

Sole takes a tiny step forward. “She broke her wrist while saving my life on the stairway. She did it at great risk to herself,” his voice squeaks and he steps back the instant it is said, taking a much bigger step backwards than he took forward to begin with. My eyes shift to Blaine to catch his reaction. I’m not disappointed.

The King turns, but does not say anything, just strokes his face. I can hear a bristling sound as he does, a light stubble covers his jaw.

“Without the Tatuma, we would have lost Sole,” Malir says.

“Yet it is because of her my brother is dead.” The King’s tone is raw and harsh. He turns his head to the side for a few moments. I’m in awe he is still able to be so composed with the news his brother has been murdered. The lack of emotion he displays has me most scared out of anything he has done so far.

He turns a blank face towards us.

“I must think on what we will do with the girl,” he says. I grit my teeth again, a retort on the tip of my tongue, but I draw back, knowing the King’s grief is fresh. It was only a month ago when I felt my heart was cut out from me, and this man had known Kedrick for much longer than I.