A strange look passed over Selma’s face then, a pull at the edges of her lips almost as though she wanted to smile, but her pale blue eyes remained wary.
“If you feel such a strong sense of duty towards Eisalaan and our new allies,” she began, speaking slowly. “Perhaps you may reconsider petitioning as my Heir.”
Adeline stood abruptly.
“I’ve told you, no.”
But Selma was not discouraged. She rose, wincing, to her feet, gripping the back of the settee for support as she came level with her daughter.
“I know you have, darling. I simply thought after the time we’ve spent together… you might see things differently.”
Adeline stepped around the chair, putting it between her body and her mother’s as she threw her hands up.
“Why doeseveryoneseem to think that’s my motivation? Is it so unbelievable that I might just want to know my mother, now that she finally has time for me?”
A stinging silence.
Selma sat again, suddenly looking very small and frail among the expanse of white fabric. She picked up her letter and resumed reading it, though her eyes flickered across the page too fast. Adeline felt a warm flood of shame creep across her cheeks. Why could she not let it lie? Why did she have to keep picking at these old wounds?
“I’m sorry.”
The Queen waved a hand, quietly dismissing her apology. “I understand.”
Adeline shifted uncomfortably. Shewassorry, but her regret didn’t dissolve her anger.
“May I go?”
The Queen nodded without looking up from her letter.
And so, Adeline left.
The fire in her veins seemed to power her limbs, moving her body through the halls towards the East Library before she’d even fully formed her plan. She couldn’t become Master Ellis overnight, but she could do everything in her power to be the partner King Cumhaill truly needed.
That’s more than that hateful old codger would do.
Chapter 23
Kai
CRACK.
Kai woke.
It was not the ice, just the valet knocking at the door. He dressed and went to greet Simon, who stood in the hall with his arms about to give way under the breakfast tray. The boy produced letters from his pouch. Ceri’s hand was among them under the green seal, asking again when she could join him at the palace. He ate. Simon reminded him of his session with the Princess.
Kai felt a prickle of unease at his throat, and dampened it with the burn of his tea swallowed in three deep gulps before he left his room. Too quickly he had settled into a routine with nothing to show for it but vapid court parties and useless palace exhibitions. His people were waiting, their home encased in ice – and here he was, growing complacent. Not yet having found what he was looking for.
None of the Beira women wore the pendant.
He knew better than to ask them outright. The Queen had been quite explicit; if it was within her power to stop it, the Thaw would not continue. But if there was even a slight chance that Selma and her family knew nothing of the pendant - its history or existence – there was still some wisp of a hope for the Laune.
And then there was Avette. At the back of his mind, always, was Avette. They were Avette’s blood, even Adeline. Adhlas,especiallyAdeline. The resemblance had shocked him at first, through eyes bleared by the ice in his lashes, the blinding white snow, and his unearthly exhaustion.
He had simply seen a Princess with a mass of dark curls and wide brown eyes, and projected Avette’s face onto her young ancestor. But Adeline was not Avette, in looks or manner. She was taller, softer, less poised but with an easier grace. Her skin was warm as pale gold, where Avette’s had been cool, stark white. Adeline’s hair was a storm of curls, and though her eyes were dark, they were warmed with the gleam of unspilled laughter.
Mother Adhlas save me.
This was a dangerous line of thought. He did not want to think about this. Not of Avette, and certainly not of Adeline. Kai tried to stop, but memories of their last session rushed him all at once; her warm eyes wide, her pulse thrumming hard beneath his palm, her lips parting with her fractured breath.
