Page 25 of Winter Gods & Serpents

She draped me in an emerald flowy chiffon dress with several layers, long sleeves with a square neckline showing a peak of my bust and an inch of the scar on my shoulder. My hair was loosely braided down my back and large emerald adorned earrings hung from my ears. She placed a small square mirror in front of me, my own reflection startling me. I looked regal, there was no sign of the village boy from days ago and as if reading my mind Cai marched inside the room, smiling ear to ear crossing his arms while eying me head to toe.

“Now that is some royal ass, right there,” he said, earning the well-deserved vulgar hand gesture that I gave him.

“What is the matter, Pen? Is she already wearing you out?” he asked the little red head sulking in the corner who had argued with me all morning.

She scowled at me before turning to him. “She keeps humming that horrible song, I am starting to see things because it’s so creeping. Yesterday at the market I had a shivering fit when I saw children, do tell her to stop, please.”

Cai threw a not very amused look at me. “Cakes, that creeps me as well, enough of it.”

I spun on my toes singing the lines, “For three burning suns and moons, the dark blight celebrated all afternoons. Their plague corrupting with stink of death, of little white lambs beloveds last breath.”

Pen covered her ears, and Cai began chasing me about the room. I loved that song, it had brought me more comfort than anyone would know.

“I shall hate forests, flowers, night and children all together after this.” Pen sighed, “How can they sing those verses? Those little children saw their families slaughtered, they were starved, watched the invaders celebrate with their parents’ heads on pikes, throwing them around like balls and then poisoned an entire army before poisoning themselves. How on Hodr is that supposed to be sung in a happy tune?” she asked in a shudder.

“They got justice. It was a happy ending.”

She twisted in disbelief. “Couldn’t they live to witness it?”

“What they saw marked them body and soul, you would rather die than crumble. Death is death, but a quick death is salvation.”

She shook her head. “I will never understand it.”

I pinched her cheek. “I hope you never have to be in the crossroad of having to understand it.”

She scowled and swatted my hand. “You ponder upon such philosophical thought at your fragile old age, Your Highness. Don’t you have someone to be rude too?” She asked, before blowing a raspberry at me.

Cai cackled. “She is my favourite.”

I pointed a finger at him. “I’ll have her head, just wait for it.”

We made our way to the dining chambers again, this time wearier and troubled. Thoughts dimmed all sight.

“If they make you eat with them every day you will starve to death,” he sighed, before taking his position by the wall.

I scoffed. “I wish but the night king probably prefers his bride alive to unalive me himself.” And I wish this was a joke. Cai only sunk further onto his stern expression. It was not a good joke.

Today Elias sat with them next to my uncle, ignoring the others I strode toward my father and bowed again before taking the first seat next to his left.

“You are late, child,” father said lazily, taking a sip from his goblet.

“Oh, my deepest apologies. I had forgotten bread and milk took off from the table at a certain time,” I replied, lowering myself in a mocking bow. To my displeasure he did not react, leaning back he seized me, narrowing his vile eyes on my attire, hair and face.

His gaze felt heavy on my skin as if bugs crawled all over. They rested on my hands studying my gloves before he tapped his finger atop one of them. “Why the gloves?” he asked tilting his head. Such a condescending little trick of his.

Pulling a grape to my mouth, I looked at him and pointed a finger above my head. “Why the crown?”

He wavered in anger and I threw him a wink. I heard both uncle and Elias choke on their food, coughing before they returned to their conversation. My father on the other hand seemed to be growing used to my remarks. He pursed his lips and went back to his plate.

Moreen cleared her throat and leaned forward. “We are meeting with the ladies of Casmere this afternoon, for the Winter solstice silks. Should I order the same costume as last year for you, Silas?”

At me mention of the Winter solstice, I froze. Did Isjord continue to celebrate the day I mourned, the day Adriata attacked, the day of their deaths?

He lazily and disinterestedly leaned back assessing her before nodding. “Order something for Snowlin, she will attend along us.”

The fork in my grasp had almost snapped in half. “Attend?”

“Yes,” he answered, continuing to cut his breakfast. “It is not your first one child. You know your duties as royal involve participating in the glorious day of our ancestors.”