Page 84 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“W-What is wrong with avocados?” her friend stammered with confusion.

“The vile slime most call a vegetable?” The princess asked in a shiver. “If I’d wanted to eat soap, I’d eat soap, and I’ve scented better smelling soaps.”

My mouth had dropped open at their antics. Was this the ybris? Afraid of tuna, repulsed by avocados? Was I hallucinating?

I stood, fresh air had to get to my brain, or I’d start rotting at my young age at these two’s pointless arguing. “What do you want to eat?”

She turned to me, eyeing every inch of my face like I was cream desert. “You.”

Her friend drowned a snort with her hand and sunk on her seat under her book.

I blew a heavy breath, stretching my neck before straightening. Hells, didn’t she know how to frustrate me? “I’ll get the cook to prepare you something.”

“Letting me out of your sight?” she gasped playfully.

Ignoring her I headed out for the corridors, murmuring to myself, “Even hell ghouls turn to heavens in your presence. I’m more scared for them than for you.”

“Heard that,” she shouted. “You flatter me Adriatian.”

* * *

The princess sat side by side my brother in a bench munching on the treats he’d brought her, jollily accompanying with riveting chatter. What did the two had to bond over, their shared hate for the Adriatian kind perhaps?

She rose her head, noting my presence, and stared me through a satisfied expression. Goddess of tempt had met her match with this one.

“What are you staring at?” I asked, approaching them.

She licked her upper lip before biting on her lower plump one, her eyes never leaving me. “Your head.”

“Let me guess. It would be better parted from my body?” I’d learnt the pattern of her play with me.

She grinned and stood nearing so close I had to look down to her. Air of her might brushing my skin, close sight of her beauty tricking my senses. “It would be better between my legs.” She gave me a wink. “Got you.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Again.”

I traced her down as she strode away from us all victorious, and then blew a loud breath of exasperation.

Mal chuckled silently and I gave him a stark look. He’d only returned this morning. Driada had gotten better from her disease. She was not an Aura, her body healed slow and sometimes not at all. At the progress of her illness, she was lucky to even recuperate back for a few days at a time.

“How did you leave Driada?”

He stood, his shadows turned all gloom and despair. “She is fine…for now.”

I rested a hand on his shoulder. “She will get through it, Mal.”

He took a deep breath, washing his feel down and skilfully away from my sight. “Yes—yes she will.”

Not an ounce of truth, but losing hope was losing her.

“You should have stayed a while longer.”

“They actually begged me to return, my charms did not work with the healers, they seemed rather annoyed. I am glad I did though, you look like shit.”

I threw a glare to the black-haired fault bouncing all energy over her soldiers. I wanted to hope it would soon be over, but I couldn’t. Soon she’d continue doing this in Adriata. I was too fatigued to even sigh.

Kirkwall was blooming compared to the rest of Isjord, the cold was still present, but it had not turned its lands to empty snow pile waste, trees were undressed and gloomy but there was still more life to them than the evergreen conifers that donned every corner of Isjord.

The city must have grown used to the presence of soldiers, as none turned to even throw a curious glance towards us. A young man dressed in the black militia uniform approached and greeted our team as we neared the viceroy quarters where the lord and his team gathered to discuss their duties.

“Snowlin, thank you for responding to my request,” he said, coming to greet us. He almost did not look Isjordian. Tanned, sharp features, his dark hair half tied back, almost as dark as mine compared to the yellow heads of Isjord and his eyes deep olive; he looked more like Caiden than any Isjordian.