Ice Kissed (19 page)

I pushed open the door to Kennet’s chambers without knocking and without waiting for anyone to let me in. He stood next to his bed loosening his tie, his suit jacket already discarded on a nearby chair.

“Miss!” The footman had hurried in after me. “You must leave.”

“It’s all right,” Kennet told him, but he kept his eyes on me. “She can stay.”

“If you are sure, my Prince,” the footman said, eyeing me with disdain.

“Give us a moment alone. And make sure you don’t let anybody get by this time.”

The footman bowed then turned and left, closing the door behind him. Kennet’s room didn’t appear all that different from my own, except the finishings were nicer. The wallpaper wasn’t peeling, and sheer silver curtains ran along the window that faced the water, giving the room a greater sense of privacy.

Kennet took off his tie and tossed it on the bed. “By the look on your face, I’m assuming this isn’t a friendly visit.”

“You know why I’m here,” I snapped.

“No, I really don’t.” He sat on the bed, sounding tired, and most of his usual swagger had disappeared. He seemed world weary in a way that I hadn’t thought Kennet capable of.

“Why didn’t you defend your brother?” I asked.

“Why didn’t you?” he shot back.

“Because he’s not my brother, and I’m not the Prince. They never would’ve listened to me.”

Kennet stared down at his satin bedspread. “They were arresting the King, Bryn. They weren’t going to listen to me either.” Then he shook his head. “I’m not sure he’s innocent.”

“You think he did it?” I asked.

He looked up at me. “You don’t?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

Kennet motioned to me. “Well, there you go.”

“You still should’ve defended him.”

“Just because he’s my brother? Or because he’s my King? You think he should get a free pass?”

“No. Of course not.”

Kennet cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “You think I had something to do with it.”

“I haven’t ruled out any possibilities yet.” I chose my words carefully.

“You don’t trust me?” Kennet smirked a little and stood up, walking toward me.

“I think it would be unwise to trust anybody in Storvatten right now.”

“That is probably very true.” He stopped mere inches away, looking down at me. “Why did you come to my room, Bryn?”

“I want to find out the truth about what is going on here.”

“But you don’t trust me.”

“Maybe I can tell when you’re lying,” I countered.

“Oh yeah?” Kennet raised an eyebrow. “Am I lying when I say I want to kiss you right now?”

I took half a step back, surprised by his frank declaration, and it took me a moment to figure out how to counter him. “Prince, I value your friendship, but that is all.”

He stepped closer, smiling down at me. “You would deny your Prince a simple kiss?”

I looked up at him sharply. “You would order me to?”

“No, of course not,” Kennet corrected himself quickly. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How do I know that?” I asked as I studied his face. “I don’t know you, and I don’t trust you.”

For once, he didn’t have a smart comeback. The weariness I’d seen in him earlier was creeping back in, and I felt a small pang of sympathy.

“Today has been a very long day, and the days ahead are only going to be longer,” Kennet said, his voice a low, resigned rumble. “And as much as I’d usually love to play these games with you, I don’t have it in me today.”

“I don’t want to play any games,” I told him. “I just need you to be honest with me.”

He let out a deep breath. “I will answer any questions you ask me as honestly as I can.”

“Did you try to kidnap or hurt the Queen?”

He pulled his head back in surprise. “No. Of course not.”

“Do you know who did?”

“It’s my understanding that it was that Konstantin Black fellow.”

“Do you know him?”

“Konstantin?” Kennet shook his head. “No. I never met him.”

I narrowed my eyes, appraising him. “You’re not lying?”

“No, I swear,” he insisted, and for once I actually believed him. “I never met him. I never even heard of him until you told us about him.”

“Did your brother have anything to do with the Queen’s kidnapping?” I asked.

Kennet opened his mouth but seemed to think better of it. His gills flared with a deep breath, and finally he said, “I think my brother is involved in a great number of things that I know nothing about. He is a good man, and he tries to be a fair King, but he’s been in over his head since the day he was crowned. No matter what he has done, I’m certain that he never meant to hurt anybody.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“What about me?” A smile began to play on his lips.

“Are you a good man?”

“No, I would say I’m not a very good man,” Kennet admitted. “But I would never do anything to hurt my brother. Despite our occasional differences, I love Mikko, and I won’t let anything bad happen to him.”

“You let him go to jail,” I reminded him, and he flinched.

“Mikko is in jail,” he contended. “But I’m not the one who arrested him, and there will be a trial. He will have the chance to clear his name, and I’ll stand by him.

“Besides, there are worse things than jail,” Kennet added.

“Did you hire Cyrano to kill you brother?” I asked.

Kennet rolled his eyes. “I already told you I’d never do anything to hurt Mikko. Haven’t I answered enough of these questions?” He stepped backward and sat on the bed.

“I have one more question,” I answered. “Do you know why anyone would want me dead?”

“What?” Kennet shook his head, appearing appalled by the idea. “No. Of course not. Who wants you dead?”

“No one. Never mind.” I tried to brush it off, since that was easier than explaining that Konstantin Black had visited me in a dream to tell me that Viktor D
å
lig had put a hit out on me.

Kennet smirked. “I can’t imagine a single reason anyone wouldn’t want you around. Other than your incessant questions, of course.”

THIRTY

desperation

The darkness of the water outside my window made it impossible to see if the sun had come up yet. I lay in bed not sleeping, the way I had spent most of the night not sleeping, waiting for my alarm to go off and tell me it was morning and I could get up and actually accomplish something.

Not that I was sure anything could be accomplished. Kasper and I had spent a large portion of yesterday trying to get Bayle to hand over papers to us, but he insisted that they needed to be locked up for safety before King Mikko’s trial.

Bayle refused to tell us much of anything, citing confidentiality. We tried to push it, but since we didn’t have much standing here, we didn’t get anywhere. When we tried to talk to Mikko, his barrister shut us down.

There wasn’t much more we could do for him, so Kasper suggested we go back to working on the mission we came here for in the first place—creating recommendations to help the palace guard function better. And that’s what we did, staying up late into the night to write a report about the changes we thought the guards could make so the royal family would be safer.

It did seem a little like a moot point, with the Skojare King locked up and their kingdom in a panic. Not to mention that Bayle Lundeen still had more power than he should—but for the moment, things were in too much chaos to add reorganizing the guard.

Whoever stepped up in the interim for King Mikko—most likely Linnea, Kennet, or Lisbet—could replace Bayle, and that was our number-one recommendation. The guard needed a complete overhaul, starting at the top. Once Bayle was gone and the trial was over, it would be good for the Skojare if they could get a fresh start with a properly functioning security system in place.

A timid knock at my door interrupted my not-sleeping, and I rolled over to check the alarm clock. It wasn’t even six in the morning yet, so I suspected that whoever was here wasn’t bearing good news.

I opened the door to find Linnea. The hood of her dressing robe was up, hiding her mass of curls, and her eyes were red rimmed. Her porcelain skin somehow seemed even paler than normal, and she sniffled as she stared up at me in desperation.

“Please, you have to help us,” Linnea said, almost sobbing already.

“Help who?” I asked.

“Mikko and me.” Linnea came in past me, wringing her embroidered handkerchief. “I saw him last night, and it was awful, but they would only let me stay for twenty minutes, and he can’t live like that, Bryn! He can’t!”

I closed the door and held out my hand. “Calm down. I know you’re upset, but everything will be okay.”

“How can you say that?” Linnea cried. “My husband is in the dungeon!”

“Getting hysterical won’t get him out any sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She wiped at her eyes with the handkerchief, then she sat down on the bed. “I don’t even know how this can happen. How can the King be arrested?”

“The laws apply to the King and commoners alike,” I said, reciting what we were taught in school—but even then, everyone had known it wasn’t true.

“They say they’re doing it to protect me,” Linnea went on, ignoring my comment. “But why would I need protection from Mikko? He
loves
me!”

“They’re still investigating.” I tried to placate her.

Her lips trembled as she stared up at me from underneath the hood. “I don’t even know what’s happening in the kingdom. How can I trust Mikko will even get a fair trial? What if they find him guilty? What will become of him? And what will become of me?”

I shook my head sadly, wishing I had something better to give her. “I don’t know.”

“I just can’t believe this is all happening. I’m the Queen! I should have some say!” Linnea cried out in frustration.

“It’s isn’t fair,” I agreed.

For the most part, both Kanin and Skojare societies were patriarchies—women could only rule in extreme cases and for a short period of time, usually after their husband the King had died and before their son the Prince came of age. Other tribes were more socially progressive than ours, allowing women to rule in the absence of a male bloodline, but the Kanin especially were much more rooted in tradition than most.

Linnea’s power as Queen only came from her husband, or her son if she eventually had one while Mikko was King. If Mikko were to lose his crown, she would lose hers as well. With the King thrown in the dungeon, her power was locked up along with him.

“What’s going on?” Kasper threw open the door my room, his sword in hand.

His hair was disheveled from sleep, and he wore only a pair of pajama pants, revealing a tattoo of a rabbit above his heart. I knew that many of the H
ö
gdragen had that same tattoo, but I’d never seen Kasper’s before.

“Nothing.” I held up my hands to calm him. “Everything is fine.”

“I heard a noise,” he said, probably referring to Linnea’s yelling, and he looked around the room in bewilderment. “Why is the Queen here?”

“Am I even the Queen?” Linnea asked, growing more despondent by the second.

“She just needed someone to talk to,” I explained to Kasper, and he relaxed and lowered his sword.

“What I
need
is answers,” Linnea said.

“Your grandmother carries a great deal of weight in the kingdom,” I said. “You should be talking with her. I’m sure she knows more about what’s going to happen than I do.”

“She does,” Linnea agreed, but she didn’t sound too happy about it. “She’s on the committee to decide who should rule in the King’s absence, but she won’t listen to me. Whenever I say anything about Mikko, she just tells me to be patient and that the truth will come out.”

“That is very sound advice,” Kasper said.

Something must’ve occurred to Linnea, because she suddenly perked up, her eyes bright and excited. “But she’ll listen to you. She trusts the pair of you. If you talk to her about Mikko, she’ll
have
to listen to you.”

“My Queen, I think you’re being a bit a rash,” I explained carefully. “Marksinna Lisbet is far more likely to listen to you than she is to two guards from another kingdom. As the Queen and her blood, you possess far more clout than we ever could.”

“Nonsense.” Linnea jumped to her feet, undeterred. “Nana still thinks of me as a child. She respects your opinions. You must come with me to talk to her at once.”

“At once?” Kasper asked.

“Well, I’ll give you a moment to get dressed.” Linnea glanced over at his shirtless torso. “But as soon as you’re finished.”

I sincerely doubted that we could change the Marksinna’s mind, not to mention that I wasn’t convinced Mikko was innocent. Of course, I wasn’t convinced that he was guilty either.

THIRTY-ONE

sequester

Linnea held my hand as we ran down the hall, practically dragging me along behind her, and as we entered Lisbet’s chambers, she continued to do so. I wanted to let go or pull free, but she squeezed so tightly I thought she needed it.

“What are you all doing here?” Lisbet asked, sounding more harried than surprised.

Despite the early hour, Lisbet was already up and getting ready for the day. Instead of her usual gowns and dresses, she wore suit pants with flowing wide legs and an elegant top, while her matching jacket lay carefully on her bed. She flitted about the room, putting in large dangling earrings, barely stopping to look at us.

“We want to talk to you about Mikko,” Linnea said, summoning all her strength.

“I have a great many meetings today, all centered on him,” Lisbet replied tiredly. She began rummaging through the drawer on her vanity. “I can’t imagine there’s anything more I have to say about him.”

Linnea stepped away from me, letting go of my hand. “But Nana, he’s innocent! Bryn and Kasper think so too!”

Kasper appeared startled by this declaration, since he’d never said anything indicating he felt that way.

Lisbet apparently found what she was looking for—a heavily jeweled bracelet—and she straightened up and looked over at us as she put it on. “Is that true?”