Page 63 of Winter Gods & Serpents

I let out a sigh of frustration, “He forbade me from questioning the prisoners, apparently some new general is on charge of them now.”

“General Moregan, she is from Modr, very skilled as vicious, stay out of her sight,” he warned. “Considering what you did to the two you caught on the shipments three weeks ago I would not let you near a breathing prisoner either, nor a dead one at that,” Sam laughed jollily while I cringed at the bloodied sight of them, and the later berating from my father who intended to use them for information.

“If it only was that. I know he is trying to keep me away from something.”

“I will ask around for information and get back to you,” Sam assured.

“Thank you and I am sorry at the same time for involving you in all of this.”

“It is my pleasure to help you, Snow.”

“I could ask Freja for some help too.”

“Her father is not one to keep his daughter near court business. He has not been happy since he was forced to kill Gabriel. His plans were never calculated for Freja to step on his position, he’d trained a young scholar to take Lord of Modr duty after he passes. Now that Freja is widowed, she is directly in position for it.”

Funny enough to make a gator giggle, women were successors to their parents duties only if they were lone children, unmarried and childless.

“He must be plucking his feathers at the thought of passing a daughter as his successor in the Winter court, the biggest woman hater succeeded by a woman.” I laughed and clapped at the thought. “The first time Isjordian ridiculous law of women not being able to marry more than once has come to some good help.”

A widowed Isjordian woman was forced into solitude. A vessel solely for the purpose of one man, while men could dally and wiggle their cocks at any woman and marry however many one could fit it into.

“I would not be too happy about it, Freja will be patronized by the old wolves. Probably forced to retire her position the minute after one of them begins addressing her as ‘tits’ or ‘cunt’,” Sam sighed, and shook his head. “She is not a princess and she is not you.”

“No, but she can be so much better than that, I know her.” She had the wits and spirits, hate for the patriarchy that had sealed her in a dark fate. She only needed encouragement to use them and a hand of support alongside.

We went through a few other details of the attacks on the villages. He asked me in precision and traced each one step by step. I had repeated so many times it had become a song..

“You are a natural, you would have had a great future in Isjord,” he added painfully, lips pulled back in concern.

“There was never a future for me here Sam, I have always known that and partially I think you know as well.” I had never fit in this place, I still had trouble feeling compassionate and relating towards its inhabitants, these people were never mine. To these lands I am a foreigner, just like my mother had been.

I became numb at the thought, how my mother, Thora, Eren and I had been trapped in this ice prison like exotic animals, forced to adjust to the new caged quarters.

“Shall we stop dancing around sentiments, I know you hate them as much as I do,” I said, raising an brow. I reached my palm toward him. “You owe me two new daggers, just how you promised.”

After the attack, I had left my trusted daggers in the forest along with the bodies who had disappeared after my father’s soldiers had gone to retrieve them.

Sam laughed reaching toward a weapon shelf where he took two red leather scabbards sheathed with daggers. They were thin and elegant; the handles were silver carved with vines and at their centre a round emerald. He had tried to match them to my brother's sword.

“Use them well.”

I hugged him, squealing in happiness at the pretty gift.

Still unable to resist finding out what I long doubted after Malik’s revelation, I asked, “Sam, have you heard of this Eldingchild prophecy before?”

He studied me for a few seconds and his eyes diverted behind me to my Adriatian guard. “Yes,” he answered in a half voice. “It is tales, Snow. Nothing but tales and false fears to ignite desire for a strong fortified army—fear prompts tight preparation, believe me. It was nothing else.”

“Did my father know?”

“Yes.”

I exhaled a painful restricting breath while my insides writhed. Was this why and where he had gotten his idea? Had that prophecy pushed him to create us, so we would destroy this realm? Adriata had killed my family to prevent a prophecy my father had intended to fulfil.

* * *

It did not take me long to spin crazed thoughts in my head. Hovering about my room unsettled, sleepless and worried, I jumped from one end of the spectrum to the other. Two Adriatians stood at my guard, two of the sort that tried to kill me, who might as well try again, freely and at extreme ease. Had I picked wrong, had I dug my own demise? Oh gods, I had allowed my friends to be on guard with them, putting them in unpredictable danger. And Nia, she had to stand beside with one of her kind, the people that had violated her in any humanly way possible, marking her with harrowing memories and heinous scars. What had I done?

I cracked my bedroom door open. The two stood on either side of the corridor away from one another.