27
Imogen
I had never been so cold.
Not even in the Serafi mountains, in the dead of winter, had I known a cold like Obelia’s. In the days after Theodore had performed the spell successfully, the cold had increased with every northerly mile we sailed, pouring through the cracks in the ship, rising up around us from the freezing water.
Obelia’s massive bay was protected by a crooked spit of land, and even so a boisterous wind assailed the long sprawl of docking. It was the middle of spring and the gently rolling landscape across from the port was shrouded in a heavy layer of fresh snow. It was blinding, glowing like white fire in the noontide sun.
My cloak was too thin, but I buried my chin and mouth into its collar. A long line of silver carriages had finally come for us, and they lined the main road like a giant chain. Down the line, I watched Theodore and Halla enter the first carriage, silent and dismal. They were followed by a smiling Lachlan and Agatha. I was five carriages back, with nerves so tight they knotted my muscles as badly as the cold did.
Alone in my carriage, I shoved my feet as close to the footwarmers as I could and studied the narrow peninsula in the distance. The empress’s palace sat at the very end, butted up to the waves, looking like a hunk of coal. Its black stones gobbled up the bright sun so well that none of its details, its windows or turrets, came clear.
Aleka popped her head into the carriage. “Your Majesty,” she said with a reverent nod of her head. “Is there room for me and Steward Gabros?”
I swallowed. “Of course there is.”
The last few days had been a blur of preparation for all of us. I’d been sleepless, packing a trunk with what little I owned, memorizing spells written in the books on magic, and sewing small, padded pockets into my underskirt. Tucked safely within were two vials of severing draught, properly mixed with a few drops of my blood, just as the spell book laid out. I’d seen very little of Theodore and even less of the marshal and steward, as they’d prepared the new contracts for the empress.
Aleka and Markis settled in across from me, shivering as violently as I did, and pulled the spare furs atop their laps.
Markis reached for the little decanter below the window and poured himself a cup. “It’s all a nightmare.” He downed the spirits. “This cold. The king’s mood.” He jutted his chin at me. “You.This meeting will be the end of all of us, I’m sure of it.”
Ever-placid Aleka turned ferocious. “You bite your tongue. Her Majesty should have you flogged for that.”
Markis jolted like he’d been slapped awake. He stared at me with sudden diffidence, but still, a drop of dislike swam within his eyes. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. It’s been harrowing… This cold has me not right.”
I dipped my chin, gave him a hard glare. “It’s all right. You’re not the first to dislike me.”
He took another drink from the decanter, then stroked his short beard. “I just cannot help but feel a terrible apprehension.”
I felt it too. We’d all prepared as best we could, but there was no way to know how any of the pieces would fall.
The carriage lurched forward. Aleka sat straight, light brown skin aglow from the sun off the snow, and pulled her fur all the way up to her chin. “I have hope,” she said, in her serene way. “I have served the crown for longer than you both have been alive. King Theodore’s intentions are always good—praise I could not give to his father, forgive me. When he and the empress are face-to-face, I believe he will find a way to make it all right.”
Aleka looked to me, her dark eyes kind. “Your contentions with the empress are another thing all together, Your Majesty, but still, what’s right and good will prevail.” She tucked her feet closer to the foot warmer. “Now, it’s a way to the empress’s keep. You look tired from the journey. Sleep while you can.”
I was tired, and with the air in the carriage finally starting to warm, I felt sleep tugging at my eyelids. I took an inventory of myself. A spare dagger was tucked into my right boot, and another smaller dagger was concealed beneath the boning in my bodice. The two vials of severing draught sat in my skirt pocket, pressed safely against my hip. Outside, four of the six armed sailors that had been gathered to serve as my retinue stood on the carriage’s footboards. And more than all that, the sea was all around me. If every other protection failed me, I would still have its power, and despite how Eusia could access my lure, I wouldn’t hesitate to use it if it offered me some defense.
This was the safest I would be while in Obelia. Sleep was wise.
In the blaring light beyond the window, I could hardly delineate the details of the icy land around the empress’s black palace. I took a quick scan of Obelia’s scattered towns and hamlets. They snakedalong its seemingly endless coastline, but there were no buildings situated in the open fields or cliffs of the nearby mountains from what I could see. All of them were tucked close to the water. The deep-green bay was dotted with white ships, like seed pearls stitched into dark velvet.
I yawned and they blurred.
Aleka let her head lean back against the wall of the carriage. “I will sleep too, I think.”
Markis poured yet another glass from the decanter, the crystal clattering. “I will drink.”
So as the carriage crunched its way through the winding, icy streets, I too let my head fall back against the soft carriage wall. My tight muscles fought against me, but I ticked off my provisions once more—blades, vials, the sea—the way I used to count the stars through my window in Fort Linum. I thought I saw their white sparkle, little flashes of bright. I imagined my breaths were the hushing waves and finally, finally, let them pull me out to drift with them in a restive, but deep, bout of sleep.
“Why is it ordinary?” Eusia hissed. “Our agreement was clear, Nivala.”
Back in the pool chamber, back in that awful warm water. The torches flickered and the new baby wailed.
“A child in exchange for the Gods’ blood that would run through its veins. The body you gave me was only payment—”
Nivala’s face looked ashen, blue eyes like glass. “I know—”
