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“Perhaps it is. For kings and queens, morality isn’t black and white.”
It wasn’t until later that evening that Elma, at last, came upon Hugh, striding through a palace corridor with two of her men in his wake. His expression was stormy, his shoulders tense. When he saw Elma there alone, he stopped, eyes momentarily wide with surprise. She was on her way back to her room to change for dinner, for once enjoying a moment of solitude.
“Your Majesty,” said Hugh, bowing his head once he collected himself. “I’m gratified to see you’re well.”
Elma’s tongue felt dry and heavy in her mouth. As she rallied herself, seeking the words a queen should speak, her gaze fell on Hugh’s sword. It was as familiar to her as the storms at her citadel windows. Luca’s sword. Hugh balanced a light hand on the pommel.
“If there’s anything I can do to…” Elma said, faltering. What else was there to say? “Godwin’s army is only days away,” she went on, standing taller. “When he arrives, I’ll see that he is brought to justice.”
“You are most gracious, Majesty,” said Hugh, bowing again. “We are at your disposal.”
When the guards went on their way, as Elma approached her rooms, a shadow seemed to pass over her.I will be a better queen, she thought.If I must, I will die for them.
And so, over dinner that night, Elma asked Rune — quite formally, and with every intention of holding him to it — to teach her how to use Rime Ice.
In the twodays that followed, Elma distracted herself with Rune and, to a lesser extent, Rime Ice.
He was more than willing to oblige her desire to be near him, and he appeared to have no other duties or tasks tootherwise occupy him. And though Elma was never unaware of the crackling tension between them, his warm skin and deft hands and strong arms, she made no move toward intimacy. The layer of ice on her heart had been renewed since arriving in Slödava, and even though she was drawn to Rune like a moth to a flame, he would not so easily melt her.
“You have tofeelit,” he said, gripping Elma’s arms with intensity. “Here. And here.” He touched her heart with a gentle hand.
Her cheeks heated despite the cold. They stood high on one of the palace battlements, a dramatic locale that Rune declared would suit best for teaching Elma how to wield her Rime Ice. Somewhere cold, where she could embrace the ice and her power. That is, if she even had the power to begin with.
The pair had been at it, on and off, for two days, returning to the frigid battlement while Elma’s hope waned. “I don’t think I can,” she said, not for the first time, gritting her teeth against the chill. “Your instructions are esoteric at best.Just access the land with your heart.Try to embody what it means to be a queen?”
“Well, it makes sense to me,” Rune said, airy. “Maybe it’s because you’re so old.”
Elma made a derisive sound.
“Compared to me, when I learned,” Rune laughed. “I was only a child. Things come more naturally when you’re that young. We’ll keep trying.”
But she had tried it all. She had reached into herself, closed her eyes, and imagined whatever grand visions Rune recommended. None of it had worked. Not even a hint of frost tickled at her skin. Maybe shewastoo old, or too Rothenian. According to Rune, no one in Slödava had ever heard of a Rothenian monarch wielding Rime Ice. Thenagain, no one truly understood exactly what it was, or how it worked. All he knew, he’d said, was that only those in royal families could wield it. And then, usually only monarchs. His was stronger than most princes’, but “Compared to my mother’s blade,” he’d said, “I may as well be carrying a frozen fork.”
Rune moved toward her, into her personal space. No one else was on the battlement, and Elma’s belly twisted pleasingly as he raised a hand and ran it down her arm, an affectionate touch. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Another sensation in Elma’s belly: heavy foreboding. “My uncle’s army will arrive tomorrow.”
Rune dropped his hand, his expression lighting as if something had just occurred to him. “Come with me,” he said, taking Elma’s cold hand in his rough, warm one. “Let’s see if we can catch a glimpse.”
“A glimpse of what?” Elma asked, but Rune said nothing, only flashed her a knowing look.
They didn’t go far. Rune led them to a nearby tower and up its coiling stairs until they were at the top, far above the ice-bright city. Narrow windows looked out on the buildings below, which looked like sugary confections from so far above. And beyond them, the wall, and the expanse of the Frozen Sea. Elma thought she saw a blurry shadow on the ice, perhaps the distant approach of Godwin’s army. Or perhaps a low-hanging cloud; it was impossible to know.
“Look,” said Rune, going to a contraption by one of the windows and patting it lovingly. It was a strange thing. It was cylindrical in shape and balanced horizontally on a wooden tripod. One of its ends was pointed toward the window.
“At what, exactly?” Elma asked, unimpressed.
“Atelescope,” Rune said, his voice tinged with awe. “We had it shipped in from Lothyn; one of the few in existence. Want to try it?”
“Fascinating,” said Elma, crossing her arms. “And it does… what?”
He huffed. “It sees things that are very far away. Here.” He took her by the arm and led her bodily over to the telescope, before bending over and pressing one eye to the glass end. He muttered and twisted a few pieces on the cylinder, pushing his hair away as it fell repeatedly into his face.
Elma watched, trying not to laugh.Sees things that are very far away?
“Ready,” said Rune, standing straight at last. He gestured for Elma to put her eye to the thing. “Look.”
Incredulous but in the mood to humor him, Elma put her eye to the glass. At first, she saw nothing but blurry shapes, smudges of white. And then she lined her eye up properly and gasped. There before her, clear as day, was an approaching army. She could make out pennants in her own colors, and some in Godwin’s. She caught the flash of weaponry, the movement of bodies.
