It was all so fascinating, my head often turned or my body twisted to keep sight of something we passed and when we passed the glass shops, I decided I was definitely checking those out, as soon as I could.
There were a number of restaurants, pubs and even what looked like cafés, some with sturdy, wooden furniture outside surrounded by torches and big fire drums where people sat drinking coffee or maybe cocoa, some of the men smoking brown-paper-covered, thin cigars.
It was, I noted, definitely a city and what appeared to be a cosmopolitan one at that.
Our entourage, now including all our riders, did not pass through the city unnoticed. In fact, we caused quite a stir. When eyes came to me, men would bow slightly or women would bob in a graceful, short curtsy. But if eyes caught or moved to Frey, men would lift their hand in a fist and touch their chin and women would tuck their chin down and to the side of their neck.
This was strange but it was cool and for both reasons, I wish I could ask Frey about it but, alas, I should already know so I couldn’t.
We made it out of the commerce area and were winding our way through what seemed a residential area when our party made a turn around a house and I saw it.
The Winter Palace. It had to be for it was huge and it was extraordinarily gorgeous.
It sprawled along the rise at the base of an enormous mountain and the outside carried as much beautifully carved wood as all I’d noticed inside. The many, varied height, narrow-angled gables were all decorated with intricate dark wood carving mingled with long, glistening icicles, most of the diamond paned windows glowed with candlelight, at their tops the light glowed through the carved wood adorning them and the rest of the façade was made of massive dark wood planks.
And I could see this even in the night for all along the front of the Palace there were big drums with roaring fires probably every six feet and closer to the building was a row of tall torches only maybe a foot apart and there were a vast number of torches that were affixed on a slant on the Palace itself, all of them bearing cages around the fire and all of them lit.
It was freaking magnificent. Every inch of it and there were a lot of inches. The place was huge.
I was frozen in awe but my awe slid away as I saw on the wide, stone steps that swept down and widened gracefully as they ran from top to bottom there were a bunch of people standing and waiting.
For us.
And the two people at the very top, right in front of the huge, lancet arched, square-paneled, wooden double doors were my parents.
Eek!
I stared at them and deep breathed wondering why I was so freaked out.
I didn’t know why and had no time to figure it out. Oleg drove the sleigh off to a side and the other men fell back but Frey rode Tyr straight to the foot of the massive flight of step and stopped. He did not delay in dismounting nor did he delay in reaching up, grasping my waist and pulling me down. Further, he did not delay in engulfing my gloved hand in the hugeness of his and guiding me up the steps.
Nervously, my eyes took in the people standing along the steps and I noticed there were at least thirty of them, none of them in the fine clothes my parents wore. These included the four girls who had been there that first night, all wearing cloaks of the same colors their dresses had been that night, all of their eyes on me.
Frey stopped us two steps down from my parents and directly in front of them. I tore my eyes from the girls and looked into my parents’ blank faces (though, Mom looked kind of peeved for some reason, then again, my Mom of this world had so far only looked peeved) but as I took in their expressions, I watched my father lift a fist to his chin and at the same time my mother’s chin dipped to the side and into her neck.
Both of these gestures were for Frey.
How weird. Seriously, I wondered what that meant and had to find some way to find out.
When my father dropped his hand and Mom’s chin righted, Frey suddenly bowed at my side. I looked at him to see his bow was not deep, but shallow, just a slight bend of his waist and his head was tipped back, his eyes on my parents but his hand still in mine squeezed then he gave it a gentle jerk.
Oh shit. I was supposed to curtsy.
Crap.
I dropped into an awkward curtsy, seeing as I was doing it on a step which was deep but not deep enough to execute a curtsy, something I’d never done before in my life. I pulled it off, thankfully, without falling over or something equally embarrassing and I bowed my head.
“Rise, my daughter and new son,” Dad muttered, Frey straightened and his hand held mine firmly so I could use the strength of his arm to pull myself up.
I tilted my head back to look at my parents while my nerves jangled but before anyone could say a word, Frey spoke.
“My Ice Bride has been travelling long and she is chill. We must get her inside.”
Then he didn’t wait but led us up another step, I saw both my mother and father jerk in some surprise then when Frey kept right on going and was about to bowl through them, they turned toward the doors. One of the people standing around rushed to them and pushed both open and Mom and Dad strode through, Frey and I following close and some of the people from outside followed us in while others disappeared to places unknown.
The doors barely closed behind us when Frey let my hand go and turned to my Dad.
“Atticus, we must talk. Now.”