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He had sharpened in her vision as if everything around her was only a dream, and he was the only thing that mattered. As if he were a sun and she were a pale flower in early spring. As if she were a snowfall and he, the mountaintop she yearned to fall on.I’m going mad, she thought, saying nothing. Instead, she raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Good,” said Rune, his expression turning serious again. “I need you here, with me. You’re in considerable danger.”
“I thought that was a given,” Elma said. “Are you so uneasy because one of your own kind tried to poison me?” she asked, unable to keep the bitterness from her tongue. “It shouldn’t make a difference.”
“There is more to this,” said Rune. The light from a nearby window cast cold illumination across his face, causinghis scar and blue eyes to stand out, harsh and ethereal. “You’re not safe unless you’re with me and alert.”
“Then escort me back to my chambers and allow Luca’s men to do their jobs while you seek out the assassin.”
“Luca’s men are not adequate.”
Elma bristled. “Not adequate for fending off one Slödavan?”
Rune’s lip curled. “If you think I’m the best that my kingdom has to offer, you’re terribly mistaken.”
Elma raised her chin, fixing Rune with a deadly gaze. “It is not up to you. You are mine. I am the queen. And as such, when I tell you to escort me to my chambers,” she said, enunciating slowly and clearly as if speaking to a foolish child, “you obey. And when I tell you to bring me a headon a platter, you obey. Is that clear?”
A storm continued to rage behind Rune’s eyes. But at last, he said stiffly, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Seventeen
Elma could not stay still. Pacing the length of her room, her heartbeat was a staccato of impatience against her ribs. Rune was out there, alone. And while she had no doubt that the assassin could fend for himself, she found that once he had gone, she didn’t savor his absence. Perhaps it was the familiarity of a constant shadow, someone Elma was not afraid to speak her mind to and who was not afraid to speak his in return.
Luca and Cora were as close to friendship as Elma had ever come,but somehow, Rune had become something different. Something more. No pane of royal glass hung between them. They had cut one another, hated one another. They yearned to bathe in each other’s blood.
Perhaps Rune, more than anyone, understood what it was to be Elma.
And she had sent him out alone, perhaps to die. Suddenly, the thought of losing him became too much to take. Her thrumming heart became an ache. It frightened her how desperately she feared for him, that he might die before she had a chance to properly hate him.
It was just past midnight when Elma decided she couldn’t bear to wait. Her fire, untended by Cora, had burnt down to embers. No news had come from Luca, Godwin, or Rune. And if Rune’s words were true, if he truly wasn’t the best Slödava had to offer, then another assassin might be the end of him. Yet perhaps if she were there to help him...
Not allowing herself to consider the consequences, Elma went to her chamber door and threw it open. Five of Luca’s men were stationed outside in the corridor. When she emerged from her room, the closest two spun to greet her.
“Your Majesty,” said Hugh, eyes wide, “you must go back inside. The assassin could be anywhere.”
“In a moment,” said Elma. “I only wish to see Cora. Send a man to fetch and escort her to my room, please.”
Hugh’s expression was doubtful. “Luca said…”
“I don’t care what Luca said,” Elma cut him off. “You can spare one man for a few minutes. I require my attendant.”
Hugh and the other guard exchanged a glance.
“That’s an order from your queen,” said Elma.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hugh said, words heavy with reluctance. “Go back inside, now. I’ll summon you when Cora is here.”
Elma didn’t have to wait long. She had paced the room only a few times when a soft knock came from her door. Rushing to it, she threw open the door to reveal her attendant looking worse than she’d ever seen her. Cora’s eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, her face pale as snow. She gave Elma a weak smile.
Elma’s heart clenched. “Cora,” she breathed, “come in. Sit by the fire.”
“It’s burnt out,” Cora said, turning to stare at the hearth.
“Never mind,” said Elma, once again pacing. “I need yourhelp. It will only take a moment. I need to get past my guards without their knowledge. And I need you to distract them.”
The attendant’s face grew whiter, her mouth falling open. “Majesty… you can’t be serious. There’s a killer on the loose.”
“I can’t just sit here andwait,” Elma burst out, finally ceasing her endless pacing and turning to Cora. “I didn’t realize… I don’t like waiting, Cora. My bodyguard wanders the halls alone; what if he needs assistance? What if Luca and the others… I don’t like notknowing. There are more lives at stake than just the taster’s. I didn’t even know his name, and he died for me.” She looked about wildly as if for some answer, some escape. How had her father lived like this? He may have been carved of ice, but Elma was flesh and bone. “Cora, the walls are closing in around me.”
