Page 16 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“Half breeds, I see you have grown to be just the trolls you are. Your mother has always had a like for a good joke, now she has two.”

My uncle spat his water and was coughing and chuckling under his breath. Their noses flared and their lips curved down in distaste. Reuben rose to replicate, but his mother approached putting a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to sit down. Well, my father got his trained lap dogs from them at least.

He still continued staring at me like he had just seen a dead spirit. Bowing my head again, I took the seat next to his. His vile eyes lingered for a few moments and then turned to his food. That look, the same one he would once give my mother, it felt as skin creeping as when I had caught it towards her.

Moreen interrupted the silence, “The children and I are finished, we will let you continue, we have duties to attend.”

My father nodded and waved a hand at them. Fren stood and planted a kiss in his cheek, I could swear bile rose in my throat as I pulled my face back in a cringe. Father’s little pet that one. Little lamb had always tried so hard as if anyone cared for the affection of my father. Fren prided herself as his favourite child—my father’s favourite child was his throne.

“So soon? But I have missed you dearly dear, and it is not every day I get to see snow spirits in the castle,” I taunted taking a sip from my water cup. “Surely, cattle can be milked by someone else?”

My father tensed and waved them away again before turning to face me. “Your rudeness is appalling.”

“So is their audacity.”

“Let it past, you are no longer a child but a royal and one in my court.”

“What, will you flog me?” I provoked, pushing a grape in my mouth.

He flared in frustration and the knife he cut his egg with almost broke the porcelain. “I will not do no such thing to my child.”

“You mean to your heir.”

He gave me a scalding look. “I have not chosen my heir.”

“Of course, given the pool of choice you have, it must be so daunting.” I feigned a gasp and turned to him. “Letting the northern barbarians have their roulette?”

Burning tension leaked in the air, turning it a sizzling frost. My father biggest fear and the daunting contender for his throne; the other Krigborn line. The second oldest Krigborn bloodline that camped by the Islines in centuries. The two sons of the first king of Isjord, Edric, had battled for the throne. Tenebrose, the prince that won took the crown while Isline had been exiled in the heights of the sharpest, tallest mountains of the kingdom along with his avid followers. Generation after generation they had grown and formed their own villages without contacting the rest of the world. They lived, ate, breathed, fucked, and ruled as barbarians but they were still next in line if my father had no heirs or if all of us died, they had a blood right to the throne.

“There is rudeness,” he said whilst ice grew from under his fists, spreading a map over the table, freezing all in sight. “And there is tempting my fury.”

I tuck my bottom lip out. “What will you do father, freeze me?

Blisters of ice vibrated ready to erupt but the doors opened, and Elias entered, dropping to one knee for my father. My eyes rolling at the theatrics.

“Sit, Elias,” my father cleared his throat and motioned to the chair facing mine still red with rage.

The heir was not only a captain I noted, but it also appears he had taken my fathers like, he even trusted him enough to escort me. Was it to his Venzorian roots? Under Silas’s claws along his army of the wicked or father’s son and a spy, what was his position?

He sat facing me, looking like he had every other meeting, like an arrogant prick. He bowed smugly and threw me a wink. Before I could replicate in a not so polite gesture back to him father interrupted.

“This is Elias, son of Ivar Venzor, captain of my fifth guard and your sisters betrothed,” he introduced.

I snorted, confused myself at which part, the betrothed or the casual use of the word sister for someone I detested whole heartedly. “You are marrying the snow spirit?” I asked, half laughing lifting my goblet saluting him. “Good for you.”

He looked as amused as I was at my remark and nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness.” A political arrangement, father feared Lord of Venzor, interesting.

“Snowlin!” father's shout of warning erupted in the air.

And that was my mark to make my exit. I took a toasted bread in my hand, plopping loads of jam in it and stood. “Well, this has been the most fun family reunion, let's do it again some other time. Congratulations to you Elias, may the gods bless your poor soul,” I said having sent myself in giggles before I made my way to exit the room.

I heard a loud sigh behind me that could only belong to father dearest. “Meet me in the Winter garden before noon, I have to speak to you.” he called calmly.

I turned stretching my arms wide, holding the toast in my mouth, and bowed wide. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

He leaned forward in his chair, elbows in his table pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Nia joined my side as I made my exit, shaking her head, possibly having witnessed my gesture towards my father. “Was that necessary?”