Her brows lifted in invitation.
He cleared his throat. “You are the Heir. That means that you have legal standing as the overseer of all trials, all justice. You not only can demand a trial, you would need to be present to verify it.”
Her brows inched higher. “I suppose I knew Einar was a part of everything…but I didn’t know he had to be, legally.” Frustration, not doubt, colored her tone. “What else, I wonder, don’t I know about my new duties?”
The lamb was so tender it melted on his tongue. If this was his last meal, at least it was a worthy one. “May I ask you something?”
Face still contemplative, she nodded. “Of course.”
“Raf—do you know where he is? Is he…?” He glanced to the side, where he had to assume cells held other thanes.
She shook her head. “Fodur didn’t seem to remember my mention of him after hearing your name, and I didn’t remind him. I don’t know where he is, but he isn’t here. I checked the roster this morning.”
“Good. Thank you.” He probably went to the inn, as planned. What else would he do? Perhaps he’d fetched whatever package Pab had left behind. He’d read the letter, he knew about it. And the innkeeper wouldn’t know Raf from Nik. His friend could claim to be him and answer any questions to prove it—they knew each other as well as brothers after twenty-six years spent at each other’s side.
“Do you know where he would be staying? I can inquire for you.”
Nik’s gaze snapped up. It should be a trap, shouldn’t it? A way to haul his friend in for questioning too. And from anyoneelse, he would have thought it was. He should still think so now, should assume that she’d only thawed the prison and brought him food to gain his trust.
And yet…and yet his soul, still opened to the Giver in prayer, whispered a song of peace rather than wariness. Whispered of trust.
Hadn’t he felt the Giver leading him to Reykstoll, even before Pab’s invitation? Hadn’t he felt certain that he had someone here for him to meet, something for Nik to do? That same place inside echoed now with assurance.
Senseless as it seemed, Kyrja was meant to be his friend. Perhaps this, all this, was part of the Giver’s plan. To reignite love for him in the people, to change their land.
He heard in his mind the Words he’d last read, of a healing that had brought indignation down upon the Giver’s only-born.Stretch out your hand. An act of faith, one required for healing.
Stretch out your hand.An act of faith, toward this woman who should be an enemy. An act of friendship. An act of trust.
He drew in a breath. “We had rooms at an inn on Fyrst Street. It’s called the Gala.”
The princess nodded, eyes absent any spark of dark glee. She looked weary…but determined. “It may take me a few days. The funerals are tomorrow, and Fodur is making me report my every move to him. But I’ll enlist the help of a friend of mine from the city when I see her tomorrow. I don’t…” She hesitated. Winced. “I don’t know who in the palace I can trust.”
“I understand. And I thank you.” Though even if she found Raf… “Would you tell him to go home, to lie low? I assume there’s a no-visitor policy here.” And it would probably be a bad idea for him to come, even if he could.
A muscle ticked in her jaw. “I don’t know. But it certainly doesn’t seem conducive to the average visitor.” She pushed to her feet, paced the two whole steps to the stone wall, and set herhand against it. “These conditions are death to a thane—even a Fjorder would find them unsustainable after a while. Was it like that the entire time you were here? Completely frozen?”
He nodded around a mouthful of bread.
“Perhaps when Einar died, something seized up and the ice took over.”
He swallowed, took a sip of tea. “With all due respect, it’s called theIcePrison. Why are you surprised to find it made of ice?”
“The name is for the indestructible bars.” She motioned to the now-solid-wall. But didn’t sound convinced. “Or so the history books say.”
Nik forked another bite of potato. What did the Giver will him to do with this friendship? Could he help her to see the truth the thanes lived with day in and day out? The threat? The hopelessness? It was worth a try. “Had any of the guards reported a problem these last few days? Unusual cold? Unprecedented amounts of ice?”
She drew her hand away from the stone and curled her fingers into her palm. “Not that I saw. But there’d have been confusion in who to send the reports to, wouldn’t there? They could have landed on Fodur’s desk, but he wouldn’t have been able to get through everything. It’s why he tasked me with what he has.”
The duties of both her brother and sister, if her words upon entering were true. “How are you doing? With the new responsibilities?”
It was none of his business, and a week ago he couldn’t have imagined even wanting to know. But impossible as he’d have believed it then, this ice princess actually seemed to have a warm heart.
Her shoulders bowed. “I think…”
He waited, but she said no more for long enough that he set his half-eaten food aside so he could stand, his joints finally warm enough to allow it. Doing so put him at her side, as little space as there was in here. “You think what, Kyrja?” He kept his voice quiet, even though his throat had begun to loosen, strengthen.
She stared at the ice. “I think he means to test me. And I think he wants me to fail. But that makes no sense, does it?” A turn of her head and she was looking at him, begging him to reassure her. “I’m all he has left. He wouldn’t want to break me. This is just a trial by ice. Plunge me in and see how I do. What I’m capable of.”
