Page 45 of Winter Gods & Serpents

Blood pooled around her feet, specks splattered on her face. The painting of evil. Remorseless, no grain of emotion in her features either.

Soldiers lowered the second boy to her, ready to be used, leveraged, and then killed.

Her hand dug on the young boys hair turning him to face the older man again. “I could do this all day you know. You would not believe it, but it gives me immense satisfaction.”

Personal—this was personal to her and I could do nothing that would not start a war.

The gates on their side of the border flew open out of the sudden. A tall man in black official militia uniform entered. Lord of Kirkwall, whom I had seen on numerous occasions during crosser trials. Marching inside with a dozen other soldiers, he seized the whole scene and then her, half knelt in front of the old man. His eyes flew wide open at the sight laid in front of him.

The soldier, including the lord, all dropped to one knee. “Your Highness, Princess Snowlin.”

Princess—Princess Snowlin?

Nesrin and Grey stepped forward and Mal pushed from where he leaned and landed a hand at my shoulder, his brows pinched together in worry as he shared a look with me. Disbelief coated me completely. She was her, the half Olympian princess, the mixed blood Aura, the one Henah’s prophecies and telling’s painted in blood and wrote about in ash, the ybris. The entitlement, the anger and pure hatred. She is the one King of Adriata would marry barely three moons from now. King Silas’s hybrid child. The one who Adriata owed the lives of her loved one’s.

She rose to her feet, sighing deeply facing the lord. “Why is it that this is the fourth time in a week Adriatians were caught in your city?”

Confused, the lord opened his arms and calmly gave her a wry smile and said, “Kirkwall is a fine city, Your Highness, deeply envied by many, it is expected even Adriatians would take like in it.”

The princess clicked her tongue, a displeased glare framed her gold rims. “Not my answer, dear Lord.” With no warning, her dagger fled from her grip and landed straight in his chest.

His soldiers and all of us were left gaping and gasping in horror at the dead lord sprawled leaking of blood in the cold ground. The princess looked rather bored at the whole situation, a coldblooded murder.

“Cai, pick one of our finest soldiers to be put in charge temporarily till we root out all the rot in Kirkwall.”

He nodded, and left taking her order.

One of the lord’s soldiers stepped forward still wide eyed at the scene. “Your Highness, he was a lord. One cannot simply kill a lord, the council, your father—”

“Do you think me daft, soldier?”

He shook his head and swallowed a hard lump of fear. “Of course not.”

“Then you must know exactly why I have killed Esbern.”

He nodded almost shaking. Shadows of fear circled him as he backed away from her, cautiously, his gaze still at the dead lord on the ground.

Mal chuckled under his breath. “Our future queen, Kil. This will be fun after all.” His tone between worry and amusement.

This was a disaster. She wasn’t what I’d thought her to be.

My attention snapped toward her again, to the words that drew flame out of me.

“Kill the men, hang their heads in the city walls and burn the bodies, feed the ashes to swine for all I care.”

“You cannot do that,” I argued loudly, bringing all her side to a halt and my attention.

She slowly cleaned her bloodied dagger. “Well, as you see I am.”

Adriatians carry a celestial spirit, a gift from our goddess Henah, to be sent to the sky, to return among stars. We bury our dead and guide their celestial spirit to rest, those not guided to the sky were to wander lost in this realm, fading away without joining heavens. A custom well known even amongst the elemental kingdoms, spoken in their holy sacraments, and written in their history books, one I was convinced that she, a royal, was aware of.

“We carry tradition as we carry our lives, let us have their bodies, they are worth nothing to you.”

She walked towards us, not averting my gaze, her eyes burning a freezing golden flame, cold and deadly beautiful. She’d reached close enough that I could see every detail of those eyes, of her features and of that scar.

“Bold assumption that I care, but you can have the bodies since I am feeling particularly kind today.” Mal scoffed, interrupting her and the princess’s head turned to him. “Tell your King to strengthen his guard or I might just disembowel all of Adriata at this rate without even crossing the wall. A gift, a warning, call it whatever. This is the last trial to be held, all my soldiers have now been ordered to kill at first sight of trespassers and then I will do as I please. Burn, bury, drown, all the good stuff.”

I could not understand how someone could be so unwavering and unafraid, if not of gods at least of their humanity.