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“No. One glass of wine won’t kill me.” I force a smile.
She nods and turns to return back to her seat.
With her back turned to me, I swallow dryly and pick up my glass to empty its contents in one fell swoop to quench my parched throat.
Thankfully, when Katrina sits back down, she doesn’t instigate conversation, happy for us to dine in complete silence. I peacefully enjoy the rest of the meal this way, unease only creeping up my spine every so often when I feel her gaze lift up from her plate to look at me. I pretend her discreet glances go unnoticed, preferring to concentrate on my food than wonder what she’s thinking.
When we finish our meal, Katrina surprises me yet again, by getting out of her seat and grabbing her long coat.
“It’s a nice night for a walk, don’t you think?” she asks as slips her coat on.
“Hmm,” I mumble, not entirely sure how to respond.
Seems like Kat is full of surprises tonight.
I wasn’t expecting to dine with her this evening, and I sure wasn’t expecting her to want to walk with me afterward like we did last night.
Why go out of your way to be so hospitable to someone who wants your crown?
To say the Winter Queen is a complex conundrum is an understatement.
“Shall we?” she asks when she sees I haven’t moved an inch from my seat.
“If you wish,” I finally declare, standing and walking toward her.
I offer her my arm, to which she takes, steadily hanging on to it as we step in unison out of her tent. We walk throughout the camp for a few minutes in total silence, just taking in the scenery before us.
Compared to the soldiers I brought with me up north, this camp almost looks like a joke. Between her entourage and the few soldiers I kept behind to accompany her down east, this camp is as tame as they come. Eighty souls, at best, have pitched their tents on these grounds, whilst before, it had been close to twenty thousand. If Katrina had seen my original party, I doubt she’d be clinging to my arm so fiercely as she is now.
We trudge on, words failing on what to say since I wasn’t expecting this.
I wasn’t expecting any of it.
But unlike last night, it’s Katrina who breaks the ice first.
“You laugh.”
“Pardon? Did you just say I laugh?” I repeat, confused.
“Yes. You laugh. You didn’t use to… before. At least I don’t remember you doing it very often. But now… I hear you laugh all the time.”
My forehead wrinkles at such a peculiar observation.
“When have you heard me laugh?” I ask, intrigued with her remark.
“With your men,” she explains, looking just as mystified as I feel. “Every time we stop for a break on the road, you immediately go to them to see how they are faring. And then you laugh. You joke and play with them. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before.”
“Care to elaborate? What part of me checking on my men and having a laugh with them confuses you? Because that’s exactly how you sound. Confused.”
She throws quick glances at my soldiers, all in front of their tents and open fires, eating and drinking the night away.
“Maybe because I am,” she admits, her attention on some nearby soldiers playing cards, who interrupt their gambling long enough to throw me an acknowledging nod. “They look up to you,” she adds, still staring at them. “Most importantly, they respect you. They’re loyal to you. Even when you show your humanity so unabashedly. Even when you show them that you can laugh like they can. There’s this shared sense of camaraderie between you. Almost as if you were one of them and I’m not quite sure what to make of it,” she ends on a pensive note.
“But that’s just it, Kat. Iamone of them.”
She shakes her head and turns to face me head-on.
“No, you’re not. You’re their king.”
