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“It’s quite late,” Rune said. “Allow me to escort you back to the palace.”
Elma did not speak for the entirety of their walk back up those steep, narrow alleys, the winding thoroughfares, until they were standing at her new chamber door. Thoughts and questions hung like ripe fruit in her mind, but she did not pluck them. She needed to sleep, to clear her mind.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said.
Rune’s eyes shone with unsaid words as he took her hand in his, kissing it once. “Sleep well, Your Majesty.”
Her skin burned where his lips had touched it. Even then, she longed for him. “Good night,” she said, closing the door behind her and returning to the familiar cocoon of solitude.
Thirty-Two
Afrenzied thudding tore Elma from the clutches of sleep.
It was just after sunrise; she could tell from the angle of the pale sunlight glancing through the tall windows of her room. She had been given better accommodations as Rune had promised, with a soft four-poster bed and a far larger hearth, the floor piled with fur rugs. And despite the constant swirl of her thoughts, Elma had slept peacefully.
The thudding came again, and blinking blearily, Elma realized it was someone at her door. Scrambling out of bed, she went to the wardrobe and was gratified to find a robe there. Draping it about herself hurriedly, she went to the door.
The pageboy from before stood pink-faced in the corridor. “Your Majesty,” he said, “You are needed in the strategy room. If you’d come with me?”
Elma blinked. “The strategy room,” she repeated.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Come with me, if you please.”
“I’m not dressed.”
“I can see that, Majesty, but there isn’t time. I was sent to fetch you with the utmost urgency.”
Sighing, Elma shoved her feet into a pair of slippers, glad of the robe’s warmth. “Very well,” she said. “Show me the way.”
The page obliged. He led her on a circuitous path through the palace, often ducking into narrow servants’ corridors, no doubt to speed their progress. Elma was relieved that no guards had been placed outside her door, nor did any trail behind her and the page. Rune had spoken truthfully — she was not a prisoner here.
At last, the page came to a halt outside an unassuming door, his chest heaving. “Here we are, Majesty,” he said. He knocked once, then threw open the door and announced, “Her Majesty Queen Elma I.”
“Thank you,” said Elma, and she passed into the room.
Elma had seen her father and his men holding strategy meetings. They were often in the same low-ceilinged room, stuffy and hot, with several men arranged around a table and pushing wooden pieces about on a map.
The room she entered now could not have been more different. Like the rest of the palace, the ceiling was high and arched. At the center of the room stood a white stone table that seemed to grow out of the floor, its shape perfectly resembling that of the Continent. Clusters of glass figures in varying colors were scattered about the board.
But the room itself only held Elma’s attention for a breathless moment. It was the woman standing over it, her face twisted in a frown, from whom Elma could not look away. The woman was slight in stature. She was draped in night blue robes, cinched at her waist with a belt of silver discs. Her hair, snowy white, hung loose down her back. Shewore no crown, but there was no doubt in Elma’s mind — this was Queen Hildegard of Slödava.
“Ah, there you are,” said Rune. Elma hadn’t even noticed he was there she’d been so enchanted by his mother. “Mother, this is—”
“I can see who it is, darling.” Queen Hildegard’s words were soft and drawling. She spoke like a woman who had all the time in the world, a woman who feared nothing. “Your Majesty,” she said. “Welcome to Slödava. It’s been such a long time since we welcomed a Queen of Rothen.”
“I’m grateful for your hospitality,” said Elma. She resisted the urge to curtsey — she, too, was a queen. “Might I ask how my men are faring?”
Hildegard’s gaze sharpened. “Your men are safe, fed, and housed. In fact, they’ve been of particular use to me this morning. Are you aware that an army marches north from Frost?”
Elma glanced between Rune and his mother. “I’m afraid you’ve found me at a disadvantage,” she said, choosing her words carefully.
“An army,” Rune said, his voice edged with warning. “Yourarmy, to be precise.”
Cold dread crawled up Elma’s spine. “What do you mean, my army?”
Rune opened his mouth to speak, but Queen Hildegard held up a hand to stop him. “Last night,” she said, her gaze searching Elma unrelentingly as she spoke, “I sent my hawks to seek out the men who attacked you on the Frozen Sea. I make a point of knowing who is on the ice: who poses a threat and who is an ally. I’d received no reports of highwaymen so far off the main road, so I grew curious. In the small hours of the morning, my birds returned. They had discovered two things.”
“I trust you’ll tell me what those are,” Elma said, keeping her voice level. Dread curdled in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew what the other queen was about to say.
