“I had his blood on me,” said Hanne. “He’s dying.”
Nina wanted to kick her. They needed to stay quiet until they knew what Brum had seen or what he thought he’d seen. And yet she was starting to think they’d gotten away with Hanne’s breach. Maybe Brum had been too focused on the prince’s public display of weakness to understand what had really happened.
“Probably,” said Brum. “But he’s doing the throne the discourtesy of dying slowly. The royal family will want to silence Hanne. Young women gossip.”
“Not Hanne!” cried Ylva.
“But how are they to know that? She has no reputation at court. She’s been gone so long, few could speak to her character.”
“Surely you can protect her?”
“I don’t know.”
Ylva moaned. “Tell me they won’t harm her.”
“No, but they might send her away.”
“Exile?” Ylva threw her arms around her daughter. “I won’t allow it. We waited too long to have her back with us. I won’t let her be taken from me again.”
Nina watched Hanne’s mother cling to her daughter in fright and didn’t know what to do. She could feel danger speeding toward them. She was good at anticipating threats, she’d had to be, but this one had seemed to come from nowhere in the fragile body of a boy.
A knock sounded at the door. It was a young man in a drüskelle uniform. Nina recognized him from the prince’s retinue in the ballroom.
“Joran.” Brum waved him in. “Joran is bodyguard to the prince.”
“Is he all right?” asked Hanne.
Joran nodded. His training was too good for him to twist his hands together or fidget, but Nina could see he was nervous. “Sir,” he said, then hesitated. “Commander Brum, the royal family has ordered the presence of your daughter and her maid.”
A soft sob escaped Ylva. But Brum simply nodded. “I see. Then we must go.”
Joran cleared his throat. “They were specific in their invitation. Only the girls are wanted.”
“Djel, what is this?” Ylva said, tears streaming down her cheeks now. “We can’t let this happen. Hanne cannot face them alone.”
“I’m not alone,” said Hanne. She was trembling slightly, but she rose. “I have Mila.”
“Change your dress,” said Brum.
She glanced down at the bloodstains. “Of course. I’ll need a moment.”
Ylva grabbed Hanne’s arm. “No. No. Jarl, you cannot let her do this.”
“She must.” He laid his hand on Hanne’s shoulder. “You are my daughter and you will not hang your head.”
Hanne lifted her chin. “Never.”
The look in Brum’s eyes might have been pride.
Hanne and Nina hurried to their rooms to change their clothes.
As soon as they shut the door, Hanne blurted, “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know, I know,” Nina said, already choosing a new gown for Hanne, chaste ivory wool, with none of the glamour of the sparkling amber thing she’d gotten to wear for such a brief time. She selected a similarly drab brown gown for herself.
“Do you think the prince knows?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. He was in no condition to think straight.”
“My father—I thought he saw.”
“I know.”
Nina couldn’t believe that Hanne had healed the prince before Brum’s very eyes without his knowledge. But people saw what they wanted to see. Brum would never believe his daughter had been born an abomination.
Hanne pulled on the gown. She was shaking. “Nina, if they test me…”
There were Grisha amplifiers kept as prisoners at the Ice Court, people gifted with the ability to call forth another Grisha’s power.
“There are ways around that,” said Nina. She’d learned them from the Dregs. Jesper Fahey had covered his arms in paraffin so that he could play in high-stakes card games where Grisha—able to manipulate everything from a shuffle to a man’s mood—were not welcome. But there might not be time to deploy those techniques. Nina didn’t know if she could protect Hanne. They were trapped on the White Island in the middle of the Ice Court, and if Hanne was revealed to be a Grisha, there would be no path open to escape. “If they find you out, they’ll put you in prison to face trial. That will give me time.”
“Time for what?”
“To make a plan. To break you out.”
“How?”