Frost (19 page)

I can't be the queen. I won't.

Distraction was good, so I jumped in during a lull in the conversation. "Um, she said there'd be a presentation ceremony on Saturday. What does that mean?"

Erik's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Wow, you must have made a good impression. That's a real honor. Basically, she's going to present you as an official member of the court. None of the other recruits got that."

Charlotte's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, Amy is going to be
so
jealous."

"I'd say do me a favor and don't tell her, but I guess she'll figure it out Saturday morning." The sick feeling in my stomach was back. "So, what does it mean? Do I have to stand up in front of a bunch of people? I don't have to speak, do I?" Panic made me feel lightheaded.

Erik shook his head and put a hand on my knee. "Whoa, hey. Try to relax. You won't have to say a word. The queen will do all the talking. It's not scary at all. I went through it years ago."

"So, it wasn't bad? What did she say?"

"It's a simple ceremony. You just go up and she tells the audience that you're a part of the court of Niflheim. Of course, I was also appointed a member of the elite guard, so my ceremony was a bit longer." Erik's smile was proud, his eyes far away. "Then everyone cheers and you get off the stage. No sweat." His gaze shifted back to me. "I'll be there to escort you back down the steps. It will be easy."

It was comforting to know he would be there the entire time, so at least that was one thing. I'd never been good at presentations. Back at school in California, I'd barfed all over the stage in our third-grade class production of
Alice in Wonderland
. And it wasn't like I'd been Alice, either. The flowers in the background were supposed to cheerfully bob up and down and sing, not puke up their cheese sandwiches mid song.

"You still look really nervous," Charlotte said helpfully.

Thanks a lot, Charlotte.

It was stupid to go back to the lounge. The last thing I wanted to do was see Leif again. But Erik was busy with a batch of new recruits who had come in that afternoon, and it was either the lounge or Charlotte and I could wander around by ourselves for the rest of the evening. Charlotte decided the lounge was where the other girls would be.

"But what if we see
him
there?" I finally admitted why I was dragging my feet. "I swear, if he makes you upset again, I'll punch him, and I don't think the queen will let it go a second time."

"You're right. You might get a reputation." She grinned, brown eyes dancing with mischief. "But I for one would love to see you punch him. In fact, I'd probably pay good money."

I pursed my lips and pretended to think. "How much money?"

Outside the doors of the lounge, soft music could be heard—a harp. It sounded peaceful, but already, the murmur of voices from within was making me tense.

A group of jotun exited the lounge. They were talking to one another in low voices, still carrying champagne glasses. The women were wearing sweeping dresses, most of them in silver colors. There were patterns every day—the way they did their hair or the type of dresses they wore. It was always to reflect whatever the queen had on that morning. If she wore a silver dress to the breakfast banquet, everyone had a silver dress on by noon.

It was a little creepy, actually.

The crowd paused a few feet from us, ignoring us. One of the women called out to someone farther down the hall—a tall, blond man with his own group trailing behind him.

Even through the noise of the crowd, it was easy to make out Leif's baritone voice. It sent a shudder of disgust through me.

"I knew this was a bad idea. Let's go before he sees us."

"Just ignore him." Charlotte hooked her arm through mine and tugged. "You have just as much a right to be here as that jerk."

I wasn't at all sure about of that. Leif had been born and raised there. I was an interloper. It was his territory, and I was on it.

"He's heading straight for us. I don't want to—"

His eyes met mine from across the hall and his mouth twisted into an ugly smile. Leif quickened his pace. His wolf pack followed behind him, and they nudged one another and murmured, their eyes fixed on me.

"I heard you had a little run-in with royalty today. They're saying you attacked my cousin." He said it just loud enough that his voice echoed down the hallway.

The group that had been walking past stopped and turned. A few people in the doorway were watching with interest.

It felt like I'd swallowed a brick.

It made sense that Lady Edda was related to Leif. They had the same nasty type of temperament and the same ice-cold good looks. It was astonishing that I hadn't realized they were blood relatives before I’d taken a swing at her.

Then again, I wasn’t sure I would have done anything differently. Lady Edda had been an easy target. We were nearly the same height, and she was thin. Leif was an entirely different matter, and as he settled himself in front of me—planting his feet and crossing his muscular arms over his chest—his eyes glittered. He was hoping I'd attack him.

And this guy was supposed to train me.

"She insulted my friend."

Leif's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced over at Charlotte as if he hadn't noticed her there until now. "What, the servant?"

My jaw twitched, and I took a deep, trembling breath. He was baiting me, challenging me to attack him. And the worst part was that a crowd was growing around the entrance to the lounge. Leif was talking so loudly that people were coming out into the hallway. Most of them, like the wolf pack, were wearing amused expressions. As if this were entertainment to them. Many had a sharper edge to their smiles, which made me want to turn and run. Imagining how they would all laugh was the only thing stopping me.

"You did pretty well for yourself," Leif said, spreading his arms wide to include his friends in the conversation. "Didn't she?"

No one answered, but a few of them snickered.

Leif moved closer, first one step and then another. He bared his teeth and leaned toward me. "Making proclamations now." He reared back and threw his hand up. "Let her be a servant!"

There was real laughter this time—and not just from the wolf pack.

"Aren't you theatrical," Leif sneered. "And the queen herself doing the bidding of a mere human child. You seem to have some kind of strange hold over her."

The laughter tapered out, and there was a low rumble. Agreement? It was hard to tell from people’s expressions. Everyone just looked...hostile.

My hands shook, so I clenched my fingers into fists and glared at him. "It was a suggestion—"

"Oh, but she really seems to think you have some sort of idea how to deal with her subjects." Leif shook his head, faking admiration. "I've only ever seen her hold off a sentence for one person. So this is something to be proud of, Megan. Oh, should I call you Amora?" He leaned in close again. "She seems to really believe you
are
Amora. Wouldn't you say?"

By this time, the crowd outside the lounge had swelled so much that it didn't seem likely there was anyone in the actual lounge anymore. A ripple went through them at Leif's last statement.

"Is she going to give the throne to a human, do you think?" Leif threw his head back and laughed.

The laughter was echoed by a few people in the crowd. His wolf pack laughed too, but it was different. Darker. The girl with ginger streaks in her blond hair winked at me, making my stomach plunge.

"Well, you have a good night,
Megan
." He emphasized my name. He'd been doing it for the entire conversation and it made me want to slap him.

Leif turned away, pushing through his pack of wolves. They patted him on the shoulders as if he'd done something clever.

Then he strode away down the hall, his entourage in tow, leaving me staring after him like an idiot, my face burning. Tears started prickling the backs of my eyes, so I turned abruptly and grasped Charlotte's arm.

"Let's just go back to the room."

"I... Yeah. Okay."

We both walked away. I refused to look at anyone as we passed the crowds, keeping my head up and my eyes fixed straight ahead. People were filing back into the lounge, but there was a noticeable group of them still standing in the hallway as if they, too, were shell-shocked. The buzz of conversation rose and fell. Not normal conversation—something that felt more urgent.

I quickened my pace. “Let’s get out of here.
”

“He did that deliberately." I stretched out on the bed

Charlotte fiddled with the powders and brushes on the vanity table, apparently bored enough to start dusting herself with sparkles. "Who, Leif?" She looked back at me in the mirror, pausing in the middle of her application. A cloud of sparkles showered off the brush and onto the table, covering her from head to toe. “Did what? Acted like a complete douche? I think we know that's pretty deliberate."

"Right. But not what I meant." I rolled over and propped my chin in my hands, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She went back to dusting her cheeks.

"He spoke really loudly. He wanted to draw a big crowd."

She frowned, setting the brush down. "That guy has a real problem with his mother."

"He’s not even an actual prince. Everyone knows that," I said.

Charlotte's eyebrows went up.

Why had I jumped in with that? I didn't even trust the queen, so it wasn't like I was jealous of Leif. But if I was some sort of weird reproduction of Amora, I wanted to assure myself that I wasn't related to Leif by blood. Not even close.

"Anyways, did you notice the way he talked about the queen? He's trying to start something." I didn't have to add, "And he's using me," because Charlotte had come to the same conclusion.

Her eyes widened. "So...you think he's using you to cast doubt on her? Like...to start a rebellion or something?"

"Do you think he wouldn't?" I glanced over at the door.

On the off chance that someone was listening, this could be a potentially dangerous conversation. Leif either knew or suspected that the queen had plans to make me her heir someday. Either way, I didn't want to take the chance that he might have someone spying on us. So I dropped my voice to a loud whisper.

"You don't think he's reckless enough?"

"Good point." Charlotte's expression went dark. "Think we should tell someone?"

I pursed my lips. "Tell them what? That he said bad stuff about his mom? It's not like that's proof of treason." Sighing, I let myself flop over onto my side, only to sit straight up as the door crashed open.

I had a moment of sheer panic, sure it was Leif’s spy breaking in to silence me, but Amy stood in the doorway, laughing.

"Oh my Gods, Megan. We heard you had a showdown with Leif in the hallway. I'm so sad I missed that."

Alicia chimed in. "Are you
crazy
?"

"You should have waited for us." Stacey leaned against the doorway, tapping her nail file against the ice. "We could have backed you up."

I flopped back over with a groan, trying to shove my annoyance down. Everyone else around here hated me, so I wasn't about to piss Amy off. Still...

"Amy, don't you ever knock?"

"Tell us everything." Amy ignored the question, crossing the room to the bed, sitting down heavily.

I groaned. "There's nothing to tell other than the fact that he's a colossal jackass."

"We heard he said you were going to be the heir." Becca's eyes were wide. "Is that true?"

"No." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. It dropped down into my stomach and settled there like a rock, which only grew heavier as the girls stared at me.

Charlotte pressed her lips together and returned to her face powders.

Did she know I was lying?

If I told them, they might hate me. Maybe not all of them, but I was sure Amy would. Amy, who was already regarding me with a calculating expression, her eyes narrow. She didn't believe me.

"Leif said a lot of stuff," I said defensively. "He seems to hate me for some reason, and he had to entertain the crowd that was watching, I guess."

"People are definitely talking." Amy patted her hair, her eyes fixed on the far wall.

Her hair was in a twisted updo today. In fact, so was Alicia's and Stacey's. Margaret and Becca were the only two who had their hair down. It was interesting to see who was adapting the queen's style and who wasn't.

"They're talking about the queen." Amy fixed accusing, blue eyes on me. She had lipstick on too—the same deep red Queen Eira wore. "Of course, no one is saying anything outright. They don't dare."

"No one would be that stupid." Stacey laughed, wandering over to the vanity to peer over Charlotte's shoulder. "Wow, there's a ton of makeup here. Way more than I got."

"Right." Amy raised one eyebrow at me. "You got a better room, more clothing... hell, I heard the tailors are making things special for you now."

I didn't say anything, but my face was starting to heat up. This was beginning to feel like an interrogation.

"So you can see why people are saying the queen might make you her heir. And people don't think it's wise. Hence...the gossip." She smirked and lay back on the covers, tucking her hands behind her head. Her movements were careful. Clearly, she didn't want to mess her hair up. "But, of course, Queen Eira will nip that in the bud."

"There's nothing actually going on though." I shrugged, trying to feign carelessness.

She knew. Of course she knew.

Maybe it was common knowledge at this point. Maybe that's why everyone acted so weird around me and some of the jotun were downright hostile.

And Leif was playing on that hostility. Fanning the flames.

I didn't know him well. I'd only met him twice now, but the way he'd looked at me each time, with a mixture of loathing and sly satisfaction, had made me certain he had a plan. And it wasn't going to be good.

"Right. Not on the surface." Margaret settled on the bed on the other side of me. Unlike Amy, she actually looked worried. "But the others are talking about you...a lot. Even the new recruits have heard the buzz. And Leif..." She hesitated, glancing over at Amy. "Just...be careful. I don't trust him."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Oh Gods, you're so melodramatic, Marge. That's what happens when you read too many fantasy books. Leif isn't out to get anyone. He just doesn't like new people. He hates all the new recruits equally."

Not equally, I wanted to say. Nothing like equally.

But Amy had already changed the subject, prattling on about training with Leif. How muscular he was. How dreamy she found his cheekbones. It was nauseating, but she seemed to have forgotten she'd been interrogating me.

"Get married already," Stacey said, and the girls burst out laughing. Even Charlotte cracked a smile and turned around in the chair to join in. "Can you imagine forcing him into a tux? Good luck."

"He'd look
so
good in one though," Amy said. "With a rose corsage and me in a white-satin mermaid gown."

"I will only show up if you make Leif wear the gown," I chimed in, and everyone dissolved into giggles.

For a moment, I let myself grin, happy for the distraction, that Amy no longer had that look on her face. As much as I hated sucking up, I didn't want to lose them as friends. It couldn't just be me and Charlotte against a palace of hostile jotun. The idea was terrifying.

So I smiled and laughed and made jokes about what Leif would look like as a wedding cake topper, all the while trying not to think about the fact that soon I’d have to train with him in a room full of weapons.

This was not going to go well.

~ * ~

Saturday morning, I woke up terrified. The first thing I remembered was the presentation ceremony. One of the servants was supposed to come get me, but I woke up early enough that I had an hour to lie there and worry. By the time I heard the faint knock on the front door, I was ready to vomit.

I launched myself out of bed and scurried over to the door, opening it so fast that the girl on the other side flinched back. The servant was small and mousy-looking, with dirty-blond hair and blue eyes. She gave me a tentative smile once she had recovered.

"Lady Amora, my name is Mary. I'm sent to get you ready for the ceremony."

"Yes," I stammered. "Sorry to scare you like that. I'm just super nervous."

Her face brightened considerably, and she stepped in, motioning for me to follow her over to the vanity. I couldn't help noticing she was dressed slightly better than the other servants. Her blue dress was made of simple homespun cloth, but it was still pretty. There were no patches or holes.

"Don't be. It's a simple ceremony. We just have to make sure you look nice, and you won't have to say anything. Just smile around at the people watching."

"Have you seen one done before?" I trailed after her, watching as she started to lay makeup and hair products out. "I mean, is it very long?"

"Well, sometimes, the girls and I sneak in the back and watch, or we'll be serving the wine." She placed a cloth bag on the middle of the table, and it unrolled into a line of makeup brushes. "It's not long at all, ten minutes at the most. Now, you go wash up while I lay out your dress." She shooed me toward the bathroom.

I went, passing the bed where Charlotte was sitting up, mumbling, and rubbing at her face.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Sorry. Apparently, this ceremony is early. Either that or it will take ages to make me beautiful." I retreated to the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

It was weird to strip my nightie off and climb in the shower knowing that a complete stranger was on the other side of the door. I washed and conditioned my hair fast, not wanting to keep her waiting.

When I got out, I wrapped a towel around myself and scrubbed at the mirror. Wide, scared eyes were reflected back at me. How was I going to stand up there without fainting? What if I puked on the queen's shoes? Oh hell...

I turned away from my reflection and yanked one of the fluffy, white dressing gowns off the back of the door, wrapping myself in it like it was a giant terrycloth security blanket. When I reemerged, Mary had the entire vanity table covered with beauty products and Charlotte was hovering over her shoulder, talking excitedly.

"Oh, that looks nice. Can you use that one?" She spun around and clapped her hands, face glowing. "Mary is going to do my makeup too! Isn't that awesome?"

"Super awesome."

When Charlotte turned back to the makeup, I gave Mary a grateful smile.

It was hard to see my friend constantly pushed aside. Especially after someone like Leif had had the nerve to tell her that she should be a servant and then the run-in with Lady Edda. Charlotte deserved some special treatment.

"Let's get you done up now." Mary gestured for me to sit.

I did, trying to ignore the fact that my pale skin had turned completely blotchy from the hot shower. Hopefully the makeup would cover that up. Mary started on my hair first, blow-drying it for what seemed like forever. When it was finally dry, she went to work on it, parting my bangs—which had been growing long over the last week or so—and curling the back of my hair, carefully pinning each strand.