Frost (29 page)

Dinner in the banquet hall that night was strange. That was an understatement, even. First of all, Erik's threat of sending a guard around after me became reality. I found my every step dogged by two very large, very silent guards. They were both extra tall, even for jotun, which meant they towered over me. Both of them were bulky and dressed in chain mail and leather. Yet, somehow, they were utterly silent, gliding along behind me at a distance. It made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

It felt like I had an extremely solemn pair of Viking twins for shadows. They could only be from the elite guard, because I was fairly certain nobody else could move like that.

The second strange thing was Amy, who declared her intention to sit beside me loud enough for the rest of the table to hear. Charlotte and I found ourselves surrounded by the girls. Normally, they would have talked my ear off, but that night, they were all strangely subdued.

Across from us, Elliot sat next to Karina, who only picked at her food, spearing the roast chicken and smearing her potatoes across the plate, her face sullen. When I managed to lock eyes with her, she actually smiled, and it didn’t look sarcastic.

"Okay. What the hell is going on?" I nudged Amy, who was sitting to my left.

She chewed her lip and glanced over at Alicia. Both girls looked worried.

Finally, Amy sighed. "We heard about your run-in with Gunnar."

"Everyone has," Alicia said.

"We're worried about you." Margaret shoved her glasses up a little more aggressively than she must have needed to, because it left a red mark on the bridge of her nose. "Don't you know what Gunnar does for the elite squad?"

"Leif told me all about it," I muttered. Now, it was my turn to shove my chicken around on my plate. I'd completely lost my appetite. "That jerk attacked me in the hallway. What was I supposed to do?"

"
Not
freeze him," Amy said. "That would be the number-one thing."

I frowned, staring down at my plate. "Well, too late for that. Besides, I have my own elite squad. Or did you miss the Viking twins back there?" I gestured over one shoulder with my fork.

The Vikings twins were leaning against the wall, both of them looking completely relaxed. Clearly,
they
weren't concerned.

"Right. You'll be fine." Amy didn't sound convinced at all. But she brightened up like she was forcing herself to smile. Then she started chatting loudly about the dress Queen Eira was wearing.

As she talked, I glanced up at the queen's table from time to time. Queen Eira wasn't looking at us. She had a crystal champagne flute in one hand, and she was leaning back to talk to one of her advisers. Her hair was braided in loops and draped over her shoulders today. The dress Amy was gushing over was white, with silver-gray crystals decorating the front. Maybe Erik was right. Maybe I should let him tell her about Gunnar.

What would she do then, execute him? It wasn't like I would speak up for him and tell her to make him a servant. Would I even want her to spare him? The thought of Gunnar's cold, dead eyes was enough to make me shiver. The thought of an execution was horrifying, but was it worse than having him come after me?

And even if Gunnar exercised some self-control, Leif knew what I'd said now. I’d basically told him what he had already known, but it was confirmed now. I was taking his spot.

Unless he decided to get me out of the way.

The chicken looked completely unappetizing, and I was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic, hemmed in all both sides by jotun. Where was Leif and his pack of wolves? I'd been keeping a careful eye on the door and hadn't seen any of them show up. That wasn't right. Normally, they made a big entrance and a lot of noise coming in, like they were special and everyone had better pay attention. But not today.

It made me uneasy.

In fact, I looked up, swallowing the remainder of the food in my mouth, almost choking on it. I hadn't realized how quiet our table was until now. Amy was really the only one talking, and she seemed to know it too, gesturing with both hands and acting animated and happy, like she was putting on a show for my benefit. Everyone else muttered to one another and kept their eyes on their plates—at least, while I looked around. I had the distinct impression most of the table had been watching me up until now.

My stomach had rocks in it. There were no more jabs from the half-blood recruits, no more dark looks. It was just...awkward. These people thought I was as good as dead. Or worse.

My chair squeaked as I shoved it back. When the girls all looked up at me, I cleared my throat, uncomfortable.

"I'm not really hungry. I think I'll head back to the room. Lessons are early tomorrow."

More lessons with Leif. The first since my little slipup in front of Gunnar. It should be interesting.

Charlotte pushed her plate to one side. "Want me to come?" She glanced around the table, but nobody looked up at us. "You shouldn't be alone."

"I'm not going to be. I have the twins with me." I jerked a thumb over one shoulder and forced a grin. "Don't worry. They're great company. I can't get them to shut up."

Charlotte snorted. "They're about as much fun as a side of beef." She shook her head and sat back down. "All right. I'll join you in a bit. Maybe I can pick out your outfit for the next starlight walk."

"Maybe we'll pick one for you instead. Gotta dress to impress." I dropped her an exaggerated wink.

Charlotte blushed bright red, which made me laugh in spite of the backflips my stomach was doing. "Night, you guys. See you bright and early tomorrow morning."
I forced myself not to look back as I left the room, wondering if everyone was staring at my back as I went. And if the queen had noticed at all. She'd seemed pretty engrossed in other things, which was good.

The hallway was silent. I barely heard the Viking twins gliding along behind me. It was spooky. I glanced back once, and they were both looking at me, their faces blank. They looked utterly bored.

I thought about apologizing. It must suck to follow me around all day. Not something they'd probably expected when they’d gone into the elite guard. But everything I'd said to them so far had been completely ignored.

Around the corner, a procession of servants stepped to one side as we passed. Three of the woman had wicker laundry baskets, and the last one in the line, a male servant, was holding a large crate labeled
soap
.

Most of them ducked their heads, though the man at the back took a little longer to do so, and his straw-colored hair hung over his face.

My heart lodged in my throat. Was that Loki?

The hair looked like a wig, and it was the same length and color as the one he'd been wearing earlier. The guy was the same height too.

Ignoring the Viking twins trailing behind me, I slowed down in front of the servants, stopping in front of the man. Smoothing my sweaty palms on the front of my dress, I cleared my throat.

"Um, excuse me. Please send someone to bring me dinner when you get a chance. I didn't get to finish mine in the great hall."

The servant only bowed lower, and mumbled a, "Yes, milady," but I was almost certain it was Loki's voice.

It was pretty bold of him to waltz around the palace, doing chores right under the noses of the elite guard, but it shouldn't have surprised me. At least, I hoped it was him. Otherwise, I'd just singled out some poor servant and told him to bring me dinner.

The thought made my cheeks burn, and I faced straight ahead as I stopped at the doors.               Hopefully the Viking twins didn’t see me blushing. That might have given them a hint that something was going on. Even if they looked bored out of their minds, they had to be observant if Erik expected them to stop an assassination attempt.

I stood there for a moment, my hand on the doorknob. Finally, when my face had cooled down, I glanced back. "Um, you're not coming in, right? That would be weird."

They had stepped to either side of the door, and the one on the right—I couldn't tell them apart if I wanted to—folded his hands in front of him and shook his head. Then he resumed staring at nothing.

Fun guy.

Relieved, I pushed the door open and stepped inside, shutting it firmly behind me.

Should I lock it?
The point of having them out there was so they could help me if I yelled. But having them there was weird too. It felt like an invasion of privacy.

But better that than Gunnar sneaking his way in here at two in the morning. The thought of Gunnar stealing into my bedroom in the middle of the night set me on edge, so the soft knock on the door might as well have been a gunshot.

"What—hello?"

"My lady, the servant is here with your dinner."

"Send him in." My heart was galloping now, and as the door cracked open, I stepped forward.
Please let it be him.

The blond servant slipped inside, a silver tray balanced on one hand. As he did, his elbow brushed the door, making it creak closed a little but not shut entirely. Neither of the Viking twins seemed bothered by it.

Even from under the bangs, I could see his face better—soft, brown eyes, a crooked, mischievous grin. Relief washed through me. Amazing that I'd known him just based on his height and the way he held himself. Well, that and the bad wig.

I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing as he set the tray on the bed and gave me an exaggerated bow. "Can I get anything else for you, milady?"

There was a square scrap of paper stuck under the plate on the tray, obvious now that he'd set it down right in front of me. A note. My pulse picked up again.

"I—no, that's fine. Thank you." I blinked, surprised, when Loki actually took a bold step forward and grabbed my hand. I nearly jumped back in panic, but he'd closed the door enough that neither guard could see inside.

Loki was mouthing words at me, and I squinted at him in confusion, shaking my head. I had no idea what he was trying to say. He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, and for a moment, he was deliciously close, his lips brushing my ear. His hand rested on my shoulder as he whispered.

"Have you thought about it yet? Did you talk to Charlotte?"

I shrugged, and he rocked back on his heels and pointed at the note before dipping into another low bow. "Goodnight, milady. Enjoy your meal."

I watched him walk away, telling myself that I was making sure he closed the door behind him, not staring at his butt. Even the way he walked was confident, long strides—a casual saunter everywhere he went.

How was he so calm when he was completely surrounded by people who would rip him apart if they knew who he was? Maybe I should have asked him. I could use some pointers.

With the doors shut, I felt a little more at ease, so I settled on the bed, tugging the note from under the dish. It unfolded with a faint crinkle, and I smoothed it out on the covers.