Enchanted Frost (Frost Series #8) (A YA Romantic Fantasy Adventure) Page 2

  I whispered these words to myself all along the path; I slept in tents and dreamed that he was beside me, warming me with his lips, making me shiver and shudder with the joy of having his body near mine. I would make it right – I told myself. I had to make it right. The second Kian saw me when I arrived at the Winter Palace, the moment he saw my face, he would realize how much I loved him. He would realize how right it was for us to be together. Of this I was sure.

  When at last the marble spires and silver towers of the Winter Palace came into view, my heart began to gallop with anticipation, the heartbeat quickening with every step I took upon my steed until I could hardly breathe.

  “Your Highness,” one of the servants, a girl called Silvertree, bowed deep. She blushed slightly and looked nervous.

  “Where is he?” I stammered in my eagerness to see him. “Where is King Kian?”

  “He’s…” Silvertree’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, your Highness. He’s gone away.”

  “Away where?” My stomach plummeted. “Where’s he gone?”

  “I don’t know, Your Highness,” Silvertree looked nervous. “He didn’t say. But he left a note…”

  “Bring it to me!” In my frustration my voice had grown sharp, imperious, and I was ashamed to see how frightened the girl was as she scurried away to carry out my command. When she re-appeared, though, the note in hand, I couldn’t contain myself. I all but seized it from between her fingers.

  I ripped open the envelope, scanning the words, feeling my heart break as I read the letter, written in his perfect, graceful hand…

  Breena,

  I love you, but I do not know if I can do this. I do not know if I can face this pain. I must go away for a while, to take stock of my thoughts, to ask myself whether I can live forever in the shadow of the Wolf Prince, satisfied with your divided heart when all I want is your full, whole one. I have decided to take a journey that I hope will provide me with some answers. Please do not look for me; do not try to find me. When I know if I can marry you – I will return with my answer. Until then, keep yourself safe. Keep the kingdom together. I have faith in you. I know this letter will hurt you – and although I would rather die than cause you pain I know that hurting you now will prevent us from hurting one another far worse later on. I will miss you with all my heart – but believe me, this is the right choice.

  Better to lose one another now, than suffer after our wedding.

  Yours,

  Kian

  His signature was the last thing I saw as my head hit the floor.

  Chapter 2

  Breena

  I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I’d spent hours – days, even – sobbing on the floor, tears pouring down my face, choking on my own heartbreak. I’d shuddered and shook behind closed doors, with lonly a few trusted servants able to attend on me. We had to keep my devastation secret – that much I knew, even through the haze of my heartbreak. Nobody could know the truth about me and Kian; the truth would make me weak. If my enemies were to ever find out that I was devastated by love, and that Kian and I were no longer together, I knew that they could use that weakness against me. They could manipulate me into doing whatever they wanted – right now I felt I would do anything, no matter how dangerous, no matter how risky, if it meant bringing Kian back.

  They took me back to the Summer Court, Silvertree and the other servants. I lay on a bed of satin and hay in the back of a carriage disguised to look like the carriages of unpretentious merchants who often make the rounds between Winter and Summer. Nobody could know that the girl who lay catatonic in the back, sobbing out her heart, stuffing straw into her mouth to drown out the screams, was their cherished Summer Queen, their cherished Empress of the United Feyland. For three days my mind and body burned with the fire of fever as my body convulsed and I threw up any attempt at sustenance. I couldn’t keep down food; I couldn’t even keep down water. I shook violently when the carriage made bumps over the dirt and cobblestoned roads, both at the turbulence and at the demands of my own heart.

  You’ve lost him. The fear, the uncertainty, the pain of knowing he had gone, that I would not and could not know his decision, that I could do nothing to sway his choice, filled me with stinging, burning agony. You’ve lost him, and now he won’t ever love you again. You fool. He’s given up on you at last.

  I threw up in a ditch between Autumn and Summer.

  I spent three days in bed upon my arrival home, attended upon only by a few select servants. I wouldn’t even let my mother or father visit me. I couldn’t face them. Their kind eyes would fall upon my face; they would see my degradation and my shame, and I knew that I would not be able to control the weeping under their eyes. They knew, better than anybody, how much I loved Kian. But they knew, too, how I had driven him away – how my own fault had led to my downfall. I could see it in my mother’s eyes when she gave me advice about winning Kian back: she knew just how much I was to blame for Kian’s abandonment. She knew my indecision had led Logan on, and led Kian on, too.

  I’ll never forgive myself, I whispered into my pillow, which was streaked with grubby tears. Never, ever. No matter how long I live – even if I survive for the rest of eternity – I’ll go on missing him. Waiting for him. Wanting him. Waiting for my love to come home to me.

  But it wasn’t enough. My dreams, my prayers, my tear-stained whispers – none of these things would bring my love back to me. Kian was gone – gone to I knew not where – making the decision that held my future in the balance.

  Perhaps it would have been easier if he had made a clean break, I told myself. I could have mourned; I could have missed him. But I would at least have had to move on. Instead I had to fear every letter that came to my doorstep, terrified that it would be his answer, his no, the final cut that severed my heart in two. I had to fear each morning that he would break my heart again. I couldn’t think about ruling my kingdom; I couldn’t think about being the Queen I wanted to be. I could think about one thing and one thing only: Kian. The fact that my whole existence depended on the decision he had not yet made.

  And how long would it take for him to make it, I wondered, terror seizing hold of my body. Would I wait for hours? Years? Centuries? The vast expanse of time before me felt terrifying – how long would I wait in this perpetual limbo, not knowing when the pain would end? It was the not-knowing that was worse, even, than the heartbreak. For how could I ever return to my normal life? How could I ever sit down on my throne and rule this land, all the while feeling his absence, feeling the possibility of obliteration of my mind and heart and body with a single word from his beautiful, perfect lips?

  I was angry, too, amid all the pain. Amid my own crippling guilt. Angry that the punishment far more than outweighed the crime. Yes, I had doubts in my own mind about Kian – but I had stayed faithful to him, hadn’t I? I had chosen him; I had stood by him. And now Kian was condemning me to a pain more serious than any he could have suffered by my hands. Kian had never been in danger of losing me – not as now I was in danger of losing him. He had as good as killed me.

  How dare he? Half of my mind was self-righteous, furious. How dare he hurt you in this way?

  But the other half whispered poisonous, snake-like secrets into my ear. Because you deserve it. You flightly, feeble girl. You deserve whatever you get. You deserve this pain. If he never comes back, never answers your call, leaves you waiting for him for the rest of eternity – it’s more than you deserve.

  I couldn’t do my job; I couldn’t even breathe. How could I ever withstand this agony?

  At last, on the third day of my illness, and on the sixth day since I had read Kian’s fatal letter and fainted upon the marble floor of the Throne Room, I heard a knock on the door of my room.

  “Hello?” I moaned. “Please, go away. I don’t want to see anybody.”

  “Please, your Highness,” it was Silvertree, looking worried. “Someone’s here to see you.”

  “Is it...?” I hardly dared to hope. My hea
rt leaped within my chest.

  “It’s not the King, your Highness,” said Silvertree. “I’m sorry.” She looked down and blushed. “But it’s someone you’ll want to see.”

  “I told my mother not to…”

  “Not your mother.” Silvertree shot me a small smile.

  “My father, then?” I was getting tired of this game.

  “No!” A booming, familiar voice rang out across my bedroom. “I’ve come to bring you back to life, my Queen.”

  Even now, Logan’s voice had the power to soften the blow, to ameliorate the effects of my pain. As he strode in, his face spreading into a smile, I felt a strange sense of relief. Whenever I was lonely or heartbroken as a child, it was Logan who would fix it, Logan who would take away whatever worried me. And here he was again – attending at the worst moment of my life.

  “Logan!” I hurriedly wiped away my tears, ashamed at my appearance. I hadn’t combed my hair in days; I was still in my nightgown.

  “Breena…” His eyes were so full of love and devotion, even now. At least one of you hasn’t left me, I couldn’t help but think through the pain.

  “I thought you were in the mortal world,” I said. “Getting food.”

  “I was,” Logan said. “But we’ve just wrapped up a run.” He grinned. “Nearly all the food has gone into the larders and pantries of Winter and Summer Fey. But I did save you one thing.”

  I gasped as he produced a package from his back: my favorite Fajita Mix Pack from World Mart. Not something I’d ever expected to see here, in the land of Fairy. The gaudy yellow plastic packaging contrasted with the splendor of the palace – my mahogany bed, the silk sheets, the fire roaring in the fireplace. But I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “When I heard the, uh, bad news,” Logan said. “I thought maybe I could do something to cheer you up. The same thing that cheered you up in sixth grade, when Clariss ruined your Environmental Club and you were depressed for weeks. I figured if your favorite Fajita Mix worked once, it would work again…”

  “I never thought I’d eat one of those again,” I said, half-smiling.

  “We’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we, Bree?” Logan sat down at my bedside and patted my hand. “And from the looks of it, you need something to eat – you look gaunt. Your Highness, your kingdom’s not going to get ruled from this bed…”

  “I know…” I moaned, but I couldn’t face Logan. Not after my pain. Not now.

  “Someone’s got to make sure you get back on your feet,” said Logan. “And it might as well be me.” He started. “As your friend, Bree, I am. Nothing more.”

  I paused for a moment, hesitating. How would Kian feel, knowing Logan was here? But Kian was gone – given up on me, on us. And Logan was the only friend I had left, the one I could always rely on…

  “Let’s go for a walk, Bree.”

  “I took his hand.”

  Chapter 3

  Breena

  It was the first time I had seen sunlight in days. It took my eyes a while to adjust to the balmy golden glow that engulfed the gardens and orchards of the Summer Court. On an ordinary day – a day during which my heart had not broken itself as it did every moment of my being – I would have marvelled in the beauty of that sunshine. I would have gasped at the orange and golden glimmers that set into sunset relief the crimson and red flowers and the intoxicatingly delicious fruits of the garden. I would have inhaled the sweet, crisp smell of apples and dewberries, oranges and quinces, and nameless fairy fruits which exuded a bright and delirium-inducing odor from their vines. I would have reminded myself how lucky I was to be living in Feyland; I would have gasped in surprise – because no matter how much time I spent here, among these fruits, within these walls, I never truly got used to Feyland. It was never really real. It was just a dream – an illusion – a midsummer night’s spectacle – a figment of my imagination.

  But now it seemed all too real. With my heartbreak had come another break, too: the loss of my illusions about Feyland. It no longer seemed as beautiful to me as it had once did, nor as stunning; it no longer called to me with that soft, repeated cry of “come home!” “come home!” Instead, I felt like a stranger here. Without Kian to anchor me to this strange world, I missed the simpler pleasures of the mortal realm. Nachos on a Sunday afternoon. Television. Even the Internet. But most of all I missed the world I had lost – the world where the stakes were lower, where my breath was calmer, where decisions about matters of the heart might cause a night of tears of even a few weeks of pain, but where this level of heartbreak was impossible. Or at least, that was what I’d hoped. I no longer savored Feyland; instead, I missed the world I’d left behind. How easy everything was, when we weren’t facing death and battles around every corner; when bloodshed was something I saw on television, and not on the steps of my own palace.

  I had seen men die; I had even killed some of them. I had run my sword through banshees’ chests and cut off the heads of pixies. And right now, I wanted to forget all of that, all of the mess and stench that people who never understood anything at all called heroism. I wanted to forget the person I had become, forget this crown and this throne. I wanted to go home.

  Logan took my hand, wiping away my tears with the side of his hand. His gestures were careful, even jerky. It was clear that he feared going too far, lingering too long. He was trying hard – so very hard – to remain friendly without breaking any boundaries, pushing too hard against the resistance that at this point, I knew, I was hardly bothering to give. I didn’t have the energy to fight off my feelings for him any longer; and yet I couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it. Sadness had gripped hold of my limbs and my mind. What did it matter if I stopped pushing Logan away now? I’d already lost Kian. I’d already lost everything that mattered.

  “What are you thinking about, Breena?” Logan turned towards me. “You’re so distracted…”

  “I know,” I apologized. “I haven’t really been coping so well with – everything that’s been happening lately.” The familiar tears stung at my eyes and the lump in my throat rose higher. I wanted to forget the pain – even for a moment – but I knew I couldn’t. All I wanted was to obliterate thought…

  “Look at me, Breena.” Logan took my hands and pressed them against his chest. “Your hands are so cold, Breena.” He began to rub them. “How are you so cold?”

  “I…I don’t know…” I sniffled. But deep down I felt sure what the reason was. Kian was leaving me – and with it my life-force was leaving me. My body, responding to the loss of his magic, was shutting down; it was stopping to work. I no longer wanted to survive without him.

  “Listen to me, Breena,” Logan’s eyes were full of pain. The puppy-dog look I had come to associate with him was now darker, more severe. Filled with a self-assurance I had never seen in him before. “Whatever happened – it wasn’t your fault. I’m not going to lie that a part of me, a sick, irrational, part of me, was glad that he’s out of the way. But I need you to know, Breena. You never led me on. You never were anything less than honest with me. As much as it hurts me to admit it – I led myself on, much more than you led me on. I wanted to believe you were interested in me; I wanted to take every sign of friendship you showed me as proof that maybe you felt something more, something real…” He sighed.

  “Why are you telling me this?” My voice began to waver. I didn’t think I could stand the pain another second.

  “Because,” Logan said, looking down. “Kian had no right to do what he did. If anyone was to blame for what made him jealous, it was me, not you. I screwed up, Breena, bad. Whenever you tried to push me away, to tell me that you’d chosen Kian over me – I didn’t listen. I pushed your boundaries – and I’m so, so sorry for that.” He looked down sheepishly. “And I’ll tell him that, too. If that’s what you want.” He smiled half-heartedly. “If he needs to know that it wasn’t your fault…”

  I shook my head. “He’s gone,” I said. “I don’t know where he is, where he w
ent. I don’t know anything at all. All I know is that…he’s done with me.” I started crying again, great racking sobs. I saw jealousy spread across Logan’s face, but he struggled to keep it down, to focus instead on comforting me.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said Logan. “He loves you, Breena. And let me tell you – nobody that falls in love with you can ever really let you go.” A flicker of darkness appeared upon his face. “No matter how much we might try to. I can guarantee that Kian is thinking of you right now, missing you…”

  “You really think so?” I felt terrible, talking about Kian to Logan, knowing how much it was hurting him. But right now I needed a friend – any friend – anyone I could talk to. And I knew there was nobody else in all of Feyland I could trust.

  “You’re a lot of men’s weak spot,” Logan said. “Now, please let me try to cheer you up. We’ve got a lot of work to do, putting Feyland back together, and it’s simply not going to happen if their Emperor is gone and their Empress is catatonic…”

  “I’m not catatonic,” I murmured.

  “Yes,” said Logan. “Yes, you are. And you need to not be. I know you, Breena. You’re strong. You can beat this. Even heartbreak, which believe me, I know from experience is the worst thing that can ever happen to you – you can recover from this. You can move on, stay focused, stay in control. I did.”

  His look made me ashamed. This pain that I was feeling now – was it the same pain that Logan had been feeling for so many years? Pain I had inflicted. Now I knew what it was like to be waiting for somebody else, hoping against hope, and yet knowing deep down in my heart that it was over, that we were through. Now I could understand for the first time the depth of what I had put Logan through.

  “Logan…” I whispered, choking on my tears. “I’m so sorry – so, so sorry.”

  He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead.

  “Never you mind…” he said. “Let’s forget all about it, okay? I’d rather just move on – and so can you, Breena. We’ve hurt each other, now. And we can either dwell on it or we can move ahead – the way I hope to do. The kingdom needs us now. Not as lovers but as friends. As allies. As best friends.” He took my hand. “Can we do it, Breena? I know it will be hard for both of us, but I really think we’re what Feyland needs right now. This is what Feyland needs right now.”