The Winter King (38 page)

“Well done. Now, let’s get you on the ice.”

She nodded and held Wynter’s hand as he led her down the snowy bank to the opening in the wall of snow piled around the frozen pond. Wynter stepped onto the ice and glided backward several feet to give her room.

The moment she stepped off the embankment onto the ice, her front foot began to slide out from under her.

“Balance.” Wynter caught and steadied her. “Put both feet on the ice. Good,” he praised when she did so. “Now, bend your knees and lean forward. That’s it. You’re doing wonderfully. Now, just hold on to me, and I’ll lead you around the ice until you get the feel for the skates.”

Khamsin held on to him for dear life, her legs and ankles wobbling terribly as he skated backward and pulled her slowly around the perimeter of the frozen pond.

“You say some people actually enjoy this?” she asked, as they started their second circuit.

He laughed. The low, throaty sound shivered up her spine. “Thoroughly,
min ros
. You’ll understand once you get the hang of it. Now, I want you to put your weight on your right foot and start pushing off with your left. Yes, like that. Don’t worry. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”

“I thought you were going to show me the cave behind the waterfall,” she reminded him, as they circled the pond a third time.

“That was my excuse to get you out on the ice. It’s there, I promise. When you feel ready, you can skate over there and see for yourself.”

“I didn’t realize you were so sneaky.”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I suppose.” She was actually. He was smiling. The fresh air, white snow, blue sky, and bright golden sun made her feel happy and light-hearted. It was a perfect, beautiful day. The kind of day he’d sculpted in the Atrium. The kind of day he’d known so many of as a child.

And then she realized what he was doing.

He was giving her a memory of her own to cherish.

The knowledge robbed her of breath and made her throat go suddenly and painfully tight. She blinked back the rush of tears that blurred her vision and threatened to spill over and embarrass her. She coughed to loosen her throat and looked away to hide her unsettled emotions.

“Did you bring Elka here, too?” Good glory! Where in Halla’s name had
that
come from? “I’m sorry,” she babbled. “Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.”

“You are my wife. Of course what came before in my life is your business, just as what came before in your life is mine. And, no, I never brought her here. She wasn’t much of a skater.”

Kham bit her lip. She was curious about Wynter’s former betrothed and had been for a long while. Fear of broaching a too-touchy subject and losing what small gains she’d made among the noblewomen had kept her from asking anyone at court about her. But Wynter had just opened that door and invited her in.

“What was she like? Elka, I mean.” What about her had so entranced first Wynter, then Falcon that had led two kingdoms to war?

He shrugged. “Tall, cool, beautiful, restrained with her emotions. She had her passions, of course, but she kept them hidden most of the time.”

In other words, the exact opposite of Khamsin. “Do you wish I were more like her?”

His head whipped around. “Good goddess, no!” He looked completely shocked. “Have I ever given you cause to think so?”

“No . . . but you like her cousin very much. Don’t deny it.”

She squawked in surprise when Wynter caught her about the waist and pulled her up against him, leaving her feet dangling above the ice. His head swooped down to claim her lips. He kissed her thoroughly, driving the breath out of her lungs and every last thought of Reika Villani out of her mind. When he set her back on her feet, she nearly went sprawling in an ungainly heap of boneless limbs and jellied muscles.

“You have no cause for concern on that score,
min ros.
Reika Villani is an old family friend and Valik’s cousin. She has never been any more than that to me, nor ever will be. You, on the other hand, are much, much more and have been since the moment I first set eyes on you.” He cupped her chin and ran a thumb over her lower lip. His eyes followed the same path with thrilling intensity. “Your father thought he scored a victory over me when he tricked me into marrying you instead of one of your sisters, but he unwittingly gave me the one daughter I wanted most.”

“H-he did?”

Wynter smiled, a slow, devastating smile that nearly melted her where she stood. “Oh, yes. Never doubt it.”

As abruptly as it had appeared, the smoldering intensity in his eyes winked out, and he pushed her back to arm’s length.

“Now, I want you to keep skating, but this time, only hold one of my hands. If you need to stop, for any reason, don’t panic. Just bend your knees slightly inward and push out with one or both of your feet. Like this.” He released one of her hands and skated a half circle around her, stopping with a sideways motion that scraped a fine layer of powdered ice off the frozen surface of the pond. “See?”

“Uh-huh . . .” Khamsin held Wynter’s one hand in a death grip. “All right. Here goes.” She pushed off with her left foot, the way he’d shown her. Her ankles wobbled. The skates slid on the ice. She flung her free arm out to the side to steady herself. She started falling backward, and in a panic, lunged for Wynter.

He caught her around her waist to steady her. “I’ve got you. Don’t panic. Just bend your knees. Lean forward over your skates. Keep your balance centered over the skates. There. All right. Try that again.”

“I think maybe skating isn’t for me.”

“I had no idea I’d married such a coward.”

“Neither did I, but apparently we were both wrong.”

He laughed. “No, we weren’t. I wed a fierce and fearless Summerlass with lightning in her hair and a storm in her eyes. Come now,
eldi-kona.
Show me what you’re made of.”

He thought she was fierce and fearless? Khamsin clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders, determined not to disappoint him. “All right.”

She bent her knees slightly, working hard to stop her ankles from wobbling and keep the metal blades of the skates perpendicular to the ice. She leaned forward slightly over her bent knees, as Wynter had instructed, and pushed off with her left foot again.

Whether because she was concentrating more, or because she was simply determined not to fall and embarrass herself in front of him, she managed to maintain her balance. This time, she completed an entire circuit around the pond, holding only one of his hands; and then, feeling slightly braver, she made a second circuit without holding on to him at all.

“Very good, Summerlass. You’re getting the hang of it. I knew you could do it.” He glided across the ice alongside her, spinning in lazy, graceful circles, his long white hair blowing around his face and shoulders.

“You’re showing off.”

“No.” He smiled. “
This
is showing off.” He pushed off with a sudden burst of strength and skated rapidly along the perimeter of the pond, gathering speed as he went. As he circled back around to pass her, he crouched slightly, gathering strength, and leapt into the air in front of her, his body spinning like a top. He landed on one skate several yards away, then twirled, skated back her way, and slid to a stop in a spray of powdered ice.

She gaped at him. “I hope you’re not expecting me to try that.”

He laughed, white teeth flashing against golden skin. “Maybe one day.”

She arched both brows. Maybe never was more like it. “Right . . . um, so where is that cave you were telling me about?”

“This way, little coward.” Still chuckling, he put an arm around her waist and skated with her over to the frozen streams of water that had formed layer upon layer of breathtaking falls of icicles. “Crouch down over here, where the ice is thinner. Do you see it?”

She bent over, trying to peer through the slivers of dark space between the frozen streams of water. “I think so.”

“Hold on.” Wynter slammed a fist into the frozen fall, breaking off several large chunks. “There. Do you see?”

Now she could see the black stone behind the waterfall and the blacker shadow of a small cave bored into the rock at the base of the fall. “I see it. How far does it go back?”

“Twenty feet or so. It gets tight pretty quickly though. I doubt I’d fit more than three feet beyond the opening anymore, but when I was your size, I’d crawl back as far as I could squeeze in. I used to pretend it was a dragon cave, and that if I went deep enough, I’d find the dragon’s treasure.”

It was difficult to imagine him as a child, despite having seen the sculptures in the Atrium. He was so . . . masculine. So intimidating. Seven feet of pure, unequivocal male.

“Did Garrick hunt dragon treasure in this cave, too?”

“Of course. He even found some of the dragon’s gold.”

Her head reared back. “No, he didn’t.”

“Oh, he did.” Wynter’s expression was one of complete sincerity. For an instant, he almost had her believing the dragon’s gold was real, until he said, “I know because I put it there myself. Same as my father did when I was a boy.”

A laugh broke from her lips. “Did Garrick know?”

“Of course not. Not until much later. That would have ruined the magic.”

Something squeezed tight around her heart. She’d never imagined Wynter as a father. Husband, yes. Lover, definitely. King, warrior, hero. But never a father. Not even when she knew he wanted children.

But now, hearing him talk about Garrick, having seen the love he’d carved so clearly into every sculpture in the Atrium, she saw a different side of the man she’d married. And she realized he wasn’t the sort of man who would sire children and leave others to raise them. He would be involved in his children’s lives, devoted to them. He would be a good father—no, a great one. A father who loved his children. A father who would salt a cave with gold to spark the imagination of his son. The sort of father Verdan Coruscate had never been to her.

And she realized she wanted for her children everything she’d never had for herself: happiness, belonging, security, the knowledge that their parents—both their parents—loved and wanted them.

“Wynter?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

He helped her to her feet. “You’re welcome,
min ros.
”

“Can we come back again sometime?”

His smile warmed her. “Anytime you like.”

They stayed another hour or two at the pond, skating across the silvery ice and talking. They were some of the most enjoyable hours Khamsin had spent in recent memory. She felt like she and Wynter were actually getting to know one another in a way neither time nor circumstance had allowed them to before.

It was odd to realize that Wynter, who knew her more intimately than any man in her life, knew so little about her outside of the bedroom. Or that she knew so little about him. But the more she learned, the more she liked.

He was a good man, this fierce conqueror from the north. The sort of man she’d always admired: steadfast, brave, and true. Not perfect. Thank Halla. A perfect man would have only made her feel miserably inadequate, a hopeless sinner to his shining saint. His temper was every bit as terrible as her own. And he was not one to forgive trespasses. Ever.

But for the first time since their marriage, she could actually envision making a life here. A good life. A happy life. A life with Wynter.

“So what were you and Krysti doing all these past weeks when you went on your rides?” he asked, as they sat on the fallen log to remove their skates.

She shrugged. “Mostly just riding. He took me to several of the nearby villages and introduced me to the villagers.” Her nose wrinkled. “They aren’t very fond of Summerlanders.”

“I doubt there are very many Summerlanders who are very fond of Winterfolk either. War has that effect on folk.”

“I suppose. But the war is over. Wasn’t that the whole point of our marriage?”

“Old grudges die hard.”

She frowned. “What old grudges could your people possibly have? Surely, they aren’t all like that woman in Konundal, blaming every death in the war on Summerlea? If you hadn’t invaded Summerlea, those Winterfolk would still be alive. And so would thousands of Summerlanders.”

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She and Wynter had been having such a good day. They’d actually been
talking,
communicating, getting to know each other. But the tension that underscored their relationship from the start ratcheted instantly back up as Wynter’s expression went from friendly and open to distinctly frosty.

“I did not start the war,” he bit out. “Your brother did that when he murdered my brother.”

“I realize that,” she agreed quickly. “I didn’t mean it to sound otherwise.” But then her innate loyalty to Summerlea compelled her to add, “But war didn’t bring your brother back. All it did was cost more lives.”

“So you would have advised me to do nothing?”

“Of course not. But, diplomacy—”

“
Diplomacy?
” Frost crackled across her clothes and the tree trunk. With a curse, Wynter spun around and stalked a short distance away. “From the day I took the throne, your father set out to weaken my kingdom and undermine my rule. He bled us dry for years, raising prices on Summerlea crops, delivering inferior goods, undermining our alliances with other kingdoms. I tried every diplomatic means at my disposal to avoid war. I sent my ambassadors. I welcomed his. The threat of starvation loomed over my kingdom, but still I tried diplomacy. Your father took every concession I offered as proof of my weakness. My restraint only made him bolder, more certain Wintercraig was his for the taking. And then he sent your brother, who again I foolishly welcomed in the name of diplomacy.”

“I’m sorry.” She reached out to take his hands, hoping to impress upon him the depths of her sincerity. “I’m sorry for all the evils Verdan Coruscate visited upon you. But Falcon—he isn’t like that. I know you blame him for your brother’s death, but it must have been an accident or self-defense. Falcon wouldn’t kill someone in cold blood. He’s a good man.”