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“Perfect.” Eirah sighed.
As the guard pursed his lips and closed the door, Eirah remembered something she still had with her. She drew out the Morozko wooden doll from inside her cloak and tossed it into the fire without looking at it. “I hope you feel the burn, King.”
Morozko still hadn’t returned, and she didn’t know when he would either. Perhaps the burning of the doll had worked, and he was truly gone, but she knew she wasn’t that lucky. An antsy feeling washed over her as the reality of her confinement settled in. She stared at the glass doors leading out to the balcony.
Eirah pushed up from the floor and held her cloak tight as she opened one of the doors. She hadn’t been inside the palace walls long, but she already needed the fresh air, the escape.
The balcony was empty save for a rail of ice and icicles dangling from it. If she lived here, she would’ve at least decorated it with ivy.
Down below, frost guards circled the palace in the snow. Even if she planned on escaping, she would have failed and easily been caught. But she wouldn’t try—she wouldn’t put another’s life at risk from her village. Hadn’t that been what she would’ve done, though? If Saren had taken her offer and let them run and hide from the celebration? Hadn’t she wished someone other than Saren would be chosen?
The wind ruffled the ends of Eirah’s braid, and she peered up at the night sky, her gaze catching on an alabaster form. She squinted as it dipped in the air, drawing closer.
It can’t be, can it?
Adair flapped his snowy wings, swooping down to the balcony rail. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye to you,” she said.
He studied her for a long moment, letting out a low hoot before taking off, flying wild and free through the night while she was here. She had made the choice to come and not run, though, so it was what it was.
Eirah padded back inside, shutting the door behind her. She settled on the chaise, staring at the crackling fire until her eyelids grew heavy, waiting for Morozko to return, and possibly strangle him with his own cloak. But as time passed, he never walked through the door.
Her wish was that he would sacrifice himself, yet she knew it wouldn’t come true.
7
MOROZKO
None of this had been part of Morozko’s plan. He had fully intended to storm into the mortal village, select a sacrifice, and slice a swift gash across the maiden’s throat before the villagers of Vinti. They needed to remember their place, and more importantly, the damnable seal needed to remain closed.
But here he was, with a stubborn maiden inhishome.The sooner his vision came together, the sooner he could learn about her magic and dispose of her, rectifying the bloody seal.
The fire crackled in the bathing room’s hearth, and Morozko was grateful for the reprieve. Neither realm matters nor those pertaining to Eirah chattered in his ears. Holed away in the room adjacent to his quarters, he closed his eyes and sank deeper into the water. The heat lapped at his flesh, but it wouldn’t be long until the water chilled.
Crimson stained the ground, and Eirah lifted a bloodied hand. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, her lips forming his name.
Morozko curled his lip and slashed his hand through the steaming water of his bath. The water rippled, reflecting the scowl on his face.Another piece to the same moment.A fleeting part of him wished Eirah had taken him up on the offer of bathing with him, mostly so he could have fucked the frustration out of his system. Perhaps being with her would clarify the wretched vision.
Still, it wasn’t too late to send for another maiden. He’d never been denied by any female until Eirah. The image of her tossing his cloak to the floor should have made his blood boil, but it only intrigued him. What a feisty little bird.
But why was she screaming his name in the vision? And the blood… that was new. His heart roared in his ears, making the room spin.
He stood from the bath, water cascading down his slender figure. A musky scent of cinnamon and clove clung to him, wafting in the air. Just as he grabbed a towel, the door opened, and a throat cleared.
I can’t even bathe in peace.
“Your Majesty,” Xezu murmured from the doorway, bowing before he entered the oversized room. “The maiden has fallen asleep… shouldn’t you—”
“What?” he snapped. “Carry her off to bed? No.” Morozko patted his face dry, followed by the rest of his body. He glanced at his steward and wrapped the towel around his lower half.
Xezu folded his hands behind his back. “What are your plans for her?”
Morozko pressed his lips together. He didn’t know how long it would take for everything to piece together, nor if he could wait that long. The longer he put off spilling her blood, the weaker the seal. The more the balance in the realm would suffer, and who knew what would become of Frosteria? His sharp canines bit into his lower lip, pricking the skin.
“I don’t know.” He stared at the blazing hearth in the washroom and shrugged. “Draw out her death, I suppose.”
“Have… you seen something, Your Majesty?” Xezu’s brows pinched together as he met Morozko’s gaze.
His steward was privy to what he saw because Morozko trusted him despite the fact he was a human. Perhaps it was because he could threaten Xezu’s wife on a whim, or maybe it was because there was mutual respect between them. Morozko couldn’t say, nor would he.
