Page 202 of Winter Gods & Serpents

Cai shook his head. “That is not the Samuel I know.”

“Why would he do something that mad?” my brother asked. “To kill Silas, what was he thinking and why?”

Pen rubbed her arms. “He…the servants think he was under craft.”

I put a hand on her shoulder and her distressed attention rose to me. “Why would they think that? It doesn’t look an assumption from what I can tell from your shadows, you seem certain.”

She looked nervously around the corridors. “I…I am part Eldmoorian. My father was a crafter.” Her eyes shot wide between Mal and I. “But I am not a ybris.” She waved her hands down. “I don’t think I am a crafter either, and my mother is din-Aura. I just felt…felt a veil masking Samuel’s halo. You have heard what Samuel Raşar is, he is a legend Glare whose powers failed him afront twenty soldiers. He has killed mountain beasts and monsters and eudemons, but when he returned from the north he was a shell of fear.”

Fear. That was a crafters biggest power over others. They knew to creep in and search for them, and then push till they surfaced above all. He must have been under a craft veil. Veil of fear.

The red head had stunned the two of us, however not Caiden and Nia. She took notice of it too. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“We knew Pen,” Caiden revealed. “Snow does too. Your father was Alaric’s friend.”

She gaped in shock. “You did not tell me.”

Was he the one who’d imprinted magic onto Snow? I shared a knowing look with my brother but the two of us retreated from asking. Right now, I did not care.

“Do you think it was Melanthe’s magic she felt over Samuel?” I asked. Had they caught onto Snow’s plans?

Nia crunched to the floor. “Could have been.”

“What was in the letter?” Mal asked. “The one he gave you for Snow.”

All of our attention went to the young servant. She shook her head in apology. “I don’t know, she knows only.”

“Did she start humming before or after opening it?” Caiden asked through a pinched expression, as if it was supposed to make some sort of sense.

She blinked confused and focused onto the floor trying to recall. “After…after, I think.”

The two friends exchanged a look before Nia took off out of the corridor.

I didn’t care what was on that letter or when she hummed or anything. I wanted to see her, hold her.

* * *

She had not come out all night, neither had we heard any noise come from inside her room. Nia stood continuously on standby, staring endlessly towards her room, awaiting any signal of feel from Snow, waiting for the smallest reason to burst in her room, impatiently wanting to know how she was.

Despite the continuous thundering and the snow storm playing outside, the sun had finally started to brighten the new day behind clouds and Snow burst the doors of her room open, startling all of us to our feet. Dressed in one of her blue silk gowns, hair propped away from her face, a tight-lipped smile adorning her face, not a genuine one, her cold dull eyes gave her away immediately.

“Are the corridors that comfortable, why are all four of you camping out here?” she asked in her usual playful tone. I was worried before, but now I was terrified of this exterior she was putting on. Her strong facade had rounded as her armour, becoming skin again.

“I am heading for breakfast, not war, dears, only one of you comes with me,” she said and strode down the corridors. She had not joined her father for the dinning chambers since that day weeks ago. He had not broken her, but I did not fear that as much as I feared what she planned for him.

“I will go with her,” I said, buttoning myself up and following after.

Caiden grabbed onto my arm before I left. “She is planning something, do not interfere unless you see her getting close to him. If she does, stop her.”

I nodded and fell right into her step.

She halted afront the dining chambers and then faced me. “You come in with me.”

Before she could move toward the chambers I pulled her tightly in my embrace. I held her, bathing in her presence. Her small hands smoothed over my back as my need for her grew tighter in my chest and all over my body.

“My love, my love. I am so sorry—so very sorry,” I said, soaking into her, my lips pressing to her head, neck and shoulder. How could anyone miss someone this much?

“It is okay.”