“Someone’s here,” Hanne said. “Someone from the convent.”
Nina sat up, the night air cooling the perspiration on her body. She was instantly awake, and now the thunder in her heart had nothing to do with a muzzy dream. Hanne had been a student at the convent in G?fvalle, where she and Nina had uncovered Brum’s horrific scheme involving the Springmaidens and a nearby military fort. They’d put a stop to it and rescued the Grisha they could, and Nina had sent the Wellmother to her death with no regrets.
“Who is it?” she whispered, wrapping herself in a high-necked wool robe and cinching it tight. She pushed her feet into her slippers. At least the floors of the White Island were heated.
“I don’t know. My mother sent for both of us.”
“Sweet Djel, put a robe on. Aren’t you freezing?” Hanne was dressed in nothing but her cotton nightgown, the light of the oil lamp in her hand gleaming off the ruddy stubble on her shorn head.
“I’m too terrified to be cold,” said Hanne, and they bustled through the dressing room that connected Nina’s smaller chamber to Hanne’s bedroom.
The fort at G?fvalle had been destroyed in an explosion Nina’s team had set, and in the chaos that followed, Hanne and Nina had been able to plead innocence in the whole affair. Jarl Brum had no idea who Nina really was or that she had been responsible for destroying his laboratory and his program of torture. He had welcomed Mila Jandersdat into his household believing, quite accurately, that she had helped his daughter save his life. Of course, he didn’t know that if she’d had her way, Nina would have put an end to him once and for all.
At the time, Hanne and Nina had believed they’d gotten away with all of it. Maybe they hadn’t. When the dust had cleared, maybe someone from the convent had put together some part of their ruse. Maybe the Springmaidens had found the drüskelle uniform Hanne had stolen. Maybe someone had seen Hanne and Nina dragging Jarl Brum’s unconscious body out of the wagon.
“Here,” Nina said, holding out Hanne’s robe so that she could shrug into it. In the Fjerdan way, it was made of plain slate-gray wool but lined with luscious fur, as if anything that might hint at luxury or comfort should be hidden.
“What do we do?” Hanne asked. She was shivering.
Nina turned her around and tied the sash on her robe. “We let them do the talking.”
“You don’t have to play lady’s maid to me,” said Hanne. “Not when we’re in private.”
“I don’t mind.” Hanne’s eyes looked like molten copper in this light. Nina made herself focus on tying the sash into a neat bow. “We present the picture of innocence and virtue, find out what they know, deny everything. If it comes down to it, I was the ruthless spy who entangled you in my web.”
“You need to stop reading novels.”
“Or you need to read more of them. Your hands are ice cold.”
“All of me is cold.”
“That’s the fear.” Nina cupped Hanne’s hands, rubbing heat into them. “Use your power to slow your pulse a bit, ease your breathing.”
“Hanne?” Ylva’s voice came from down the hall.
“Coming, Mama! Just getting dressed!” She lowered her voice. “Nina, I made my own choices. I’m not letting you take the fall for me.”
“And I’m not letting you get hurt because you got wrapped up in my trickery.”
“Why must you be so stubborn?”
Because Nina could be reckless and foolish and sometimes that meant the wrong people got hurt. Hanne had been hurt enough in her life.
“Let’s not be so bleak,” Nina said, avoiding the question. “Maybe the Springmaiden came to give us a nice present.”
“Of course,” said Hanne. “Why didn’t I think of that? I hope it’s a pony.”
The walk down the narrow hall felt like a march to the gallows. Nina carefully adjusted a pin in her hair. In Fjerda, unmarried women didn’t appear in public without their hair bound in braids. All the propriety had given Nina a permanent headache. But her role as Mila Jandersdat had put her at the heart of the Ice Court, the perfect base from which to stage her miracles.
Hanne had seemed less sure after their stunt in the marketplace.
“Is it worth it?” Hanne had asked her that night in the privacy of their rooms. “There will be consequences for those townspeople. My father won’t stand for this kind of heresy. He’ll take more drastic measures and innocent people will pay the price.”