dead?"
Emotions chased over Frost's face too quickly for me to follow them all. Finally, he hung his head. "I would never wish Meredith ill."
I stepped forward and touched his arm. The touch made him look at me. His eyes were filled with such pain, and I realized that Frost was jealous of me. As much as I cared for him, he hadn't earned the right to be jealous of me in that way. Not yet. Though I realized with a start that the thought of never having him in my arms again was a painful one. I couldn't afford the sinking sense of loss any more than he could afford the jealousy.
"Frost... ," I began, I don't know what I would have said, because there was a sound of sharp bells from the bedroom. It was as if someone had taken the delicate sound of silver bells and turned them into alarm bells. The sound sent my pulse racing, and not in a good way. I'd let go of Frost's arm when the sound came. We stood there looking at each other while everyone but Galen and Kitto moved toward the bedroom.
"I have to go, Frost." I started to apologize but didn't. He hadn't earned it, and I didn't owe it.
"I will come with you," he said.
I gave him wide eyes.
"I will do for my queen what I would do for no one else." And I knew in that moment that he didn't mean Andais.
Chapter 17-18
Chapter 17
Doyle was kneeling on the burgundy bedspread, speaking to the mirror, when Frost and I entered the room. "I will allow shared sight as soon as our princess is with us, Queen Niceven."
The mirror was a swirl of mist as I crawled across the bed. It put Doyle kneeling at my back, slightly to one side. Rhys was sitting behind both of us, against the headboard, propped up among the pile of burgundy, purple, mauve, pink, and black pillows. I couldn't tell for certain, but he seemed to be nude, except for a few well-placed pillows. I had no idea how he'd stripped that quickly.
Frost crawled onto the bed to half sit, half recline a little behind me and to one side, so that I was framed by Doyle and him.
Doyle made a sideways movement with his hand and the mist cleared. Niceven sat in a delicate wooden chair, carved so that her wings slipped through the slotted back without damaging them. Her face was a near perfect triangle of white skin. But her whiteness was not the same as mine, or Frost's, or Rhys's. Her white skin held a greyish tinge. Her white-grey curls had been done in elaborate ringlets like those of some old-time doll. A tiny tiara held those curls back from her face, and the tiara sparkled with the cold warmth that only diamonds can manage. Her gown was white and flowing. The looseness of the cloth would have hidden her body, except that it was absolutely sheer and you could see the small pointed breasts, the almost skeletal thinness of her ribs, the dainty crossed legs. She wore slippers that seemed to be made of flower petals. A white mouse, as large to her as a German shepherd to me, sat beside her chair. She stroked the fur between its ears.
A trio of ladies-in-waiting stood behind her, each in a different color dress that matched the brilliance of their wings, rose-red, daffodil-yellow, and iris-purple. Their hair was black, yellow, and brown, respectively.
Niceven had gone to a great deal more trouble than we had to stage her little scene.
I felt positively ordinary in my green skirt outfit. But I didn't mind too much. It was a business call, after all.
"Queen Niceven, it is good of you to return our call."
"In truth, Princess Meredith, I have been awaiting your call these three months. Your affection for the green knight is well known among the court. I am most surprised that it has taken thee so long to contact me."
She was being very formal. I realized it wasn't just the speech that was formal. She wore her crown; I had no crown, not yet. She sat upon her throne, while I was sitting in the middle of a slightly rumpled bed. She had ladies-in-waiting like a silent Greek chorus behind her. And a mouse, mustn't forget the mouse. I had only Doyle and Frost on either side of me and Rhys in the pillows behind. Niceven was trying to put me at