Page 12 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“Snowlin Krigborn, return here immediately!” he shouted my name in an order.

I scoffed at the use of his ridiculous surname. What Krigborn? I was bloody mud curse born.

Coming up the corridor, two large figures approached. Shape of a familiar face took form, terror of a blue eye and brassy long hair, marred features of another nightmare, one wearing an eye patch.

I deviated, avoiding his stare with no energy to fend off another serpent. Nia and Cai leaned against the corridor walls waiting for me. She held out my brother's sword and scabbard helping attach it to my back, anxious to know what had happened.

“Irrevocably incapable old farts?” Nia asked almost agitated.

“If you had a better one, you should have told me.”

Cai’s attention suddenly turned behind my back to where the footsteps had now stopped.

“Twelve years is a long time but not enough to forget your uncle’s face, we wouldn’t want others to think you are ignoring me, would we? It is simply impolite.”

My jaw tightened at the pretentious voice filling the corridor. Calmly putting my gloves on, I went down past him ignoring him altogether. He had worn that same amused face with no issue when my mother had died. They missed the little pest. He had clicked his tongue as he had expressed his disappointment at my survival to my father’s consort. If one had enjoyed the most what happened that night, it was him.

“Impolite?” I asked calmly making my way down the corridor. “I was going for discourteous.” From dirty tricks to have me punished, to straight up abuse and not the mental kind, this man had done it all to me. I had never endured them, always lashed out and clawed him marks that I could bet a dagger he still could not heal, but I had not always been successful to protect Thora from his hands. My little sister had slept in my chambers for months from fear of him, refusing to leave my side even when I had to use the bathroom. We had only had each other, everyone else was either spun in cyclops by my father or too busy to even pay mind to us, including our mother.

“Do not start thinking your importance is of value now, everyone is a soldier in your fathers army and you, merely a stone in our walkway,” he shouted from behind, his word biting with distaste. Nothing I had not already known, to my father we were all game pieces to his grand scheme. I was no more to my father than he was and obviously he was already aware of that but hoped to find comfort in my reactions.

I halted my step and slightly turned to him again. “He wanted me back, didn’t he?” His face went rigid at my words. “If I am as you say, merely a stone in your walkway why insist on stepping on me, and hurting your poor, poor fragile self. Merely avoid me it is not all so difficult,” I added throwing a hand in the air. Before I turned to make my leave, the corner of my eyes caught a familiar face standing on my uncle's right. My gaze shifted to his direction only to meet the same dark stare I had met days ago at the Autumn festival. The man in the forest, Elias, stood beside him. It appeared he was not just a patrol soldier, he wore the navy army reefer jacked with my father’s crest on each side of his shoulder, two gold buttons adorning the top of his breast pocket. He was a captain, probably the captain of the team sent by my father to escort me back. Probably on his way to report to his king how I had slipped before he got to me. I would almost feel apologetic if I didn’t remembered his smug behaviour from that night.

“One should mind their own business, or they might catch the early death, dearest uncle, this slithering den can kill you, but I can do it most efficiently,” I warned, the second in command serpent.

He scoffed in disbelief. “You threaten me?”

“A simple warning, if that had been a threat you would already be paint in these walls. The last threat I made had you missing an eye, the next will have you missing your heart.” Opening the corridor doors, I made my exit. The first time I’d seen that much blood leak out of a person, the gelatinous sphere had made me gag in my sleep several weeks after. He’d bruised Thora’s, so I took his out. An eye for an eye. Earned me a beating, each bruise worth it.

“Always this affectionate with your relatives?” Cai teased in a lupine smile throwing his arm around me.

I indulged in a laughter. “You are in for a treat, wait till you see the rest of this den then I will show my real loving.”

“I believe you have been a tad sweet in their description,” Nia said cautiously.

“My heart is generous like that.”

She turned frowning and shaking her head at me. “Ugh, you are spending too much time with him again, he is rubbing on you.”

Cai threw his other arm around her and said, “I am rubbing on no one, not for a while now, sweet Nia.”

She violently turned and hit his back a few times making him shake in laughter.

We headed to my old quarters hoping they had not been removed, my feet remembered the way before my head willed them to move. A small girl no more than in her adolescent years shot toward us startling more herself than anyone. Her double braided hair was the colour of Autumn, eyes glazed in green, dressed in a beige dress coming to her ankles with a black apron tied to her waist and neck.

She dropped in a shaky curtsey. “Your Highness, my name is Penelope. I am to attend you and your guests and show you to your rooms,” she said before I had a chance to walk past her. Her eyes tracing all of me in curiosity, lingering longer on my scar. I could feel it, her pity and I frowned.

“Your Highness?” Penelope queried softly after my silence.

“Snowlin, not Your Highness and certainly not princess. Now lead away, if you must,” I responded.

Her eyes shot wide open and threw a glance as if in approval at Nia and Cai before nodding.

We followed her through the all too familiar stony corridors, the marbled floor shone reflecting the light from the grand crystal chandeliers adorning the ceiling, sinister paintings occupied one side and wide arched stained-glass windows the other. The huge corridors that had once made me feel trapped when I was younger oddly still made me feel the same. This place has always had an odd affect on me, like I have never belonged here.

“His Majesty, had this unit sealed after you left.” The young servant pointed toward my old chambers, lowering her head she added, “And a few others as well.”

Was my father afraid their spirits would chase him, had he burnt sage and cast craft on them too? “Where are they buried, Penelope?”