Cold, I’m used to.
Cold, I’ll survive.
Besides the rotating Guard and new prisoners, cold is all that comes to Alyssium.
Slow, frozen death in one form or another.
Chapter 2
Elorie
Callum standsunder the onslaught of the oncoming blizzard, watching me until I step inside my house. Worry knots his brows as I click it shut behind me.
As lonely as I’ve been these past few weeks with him gone, I’d rather he’d have stayed on the continent as long as he needed for his magic to properly recover. If he’s not careful, he risks suffering the same fate as the prisoners on the beach today. And while my sympathy for the Guard runs thin, Callum is family.
I’ll willingly prepare hundreds of bodies for burning so long as I never have to tend to his.
I shake the snow from my hood, pulling it back as I take another step into the house. The fire cracks, stirring unwelcome reminders of tonight’s pyre. Fire should be a comfort in this frozen slice of land in the middle of an icy sea, but I’ll never not see the empty eyes of the dead staring back at me when I hear the snap of burning wood. I’ll never not smell burning flesh with each lick of the flames.
“Elorie?” Father coughs, pushing from his chair. “It’s past dark. You had me worried.”
He’s still unsteady on his legs from his recent bout of sickness, but at least he’s moving around more these past few days.
“Don’t get up. I’m fine.” I strip my wet cloak from my shoulders.
Father waves me off with a grunt. “Hang your cloak by the fire to dry. I’ll start dinner.”
“You haven’t eaten?”
“I was waiting for you.”
A fresh wave of guilt sweeps through me for being out so late. “I didn’t expect preparations to take so long, but the count was at least double today.”
Father stops at the table, frowning. “Prisoners or villagers?”
“Both.” My stomach lurches as I hang my cloak on the hook by the fire to dry it out. “Callum said it’s only going to get worse.”
“He also said he asked you not to go to the beach in his absence.” Father’s eyebrow hitches, telling me I’m caught in my lie when I downplayed the danger in helping tonight.
“Callum worries too much.” I try to brush past his concern. “When did you speak with him anyway?”
“When he dropped these off.” He pulls a bucket of fish off a bed of ice.
Of course Callum brought us gifts from the Ley Court. He’s always thoughtful. And while I appreciate it, he doesn’t need to risk his life for ours. It’s my responsibility to care for my father. Not his.
“I could have bought those with the coin from tonight.”
“Accept the gift, Elorie. Not everything has to be difficult. Callum wants to help.”
“Only because he’s overprotective.”
Father shakes his head, muttering something under his breath.
I cross the room, stopping at the other side of the table when Father refuses to look at me. “I can take care of us.”
“You shouldn’t have to. If I get better?—”
“Whenyou get better,” I correct him, narrowing my gaze.
