I’m strangely comforted by the fact that it’s not just me he doesn’t seem to be speaking to. He remains perfectly stoic, following the princess’s lead ardently. For some reason, that part is less comforting.
I know that marriage is a side effect of royalty. So many things are. Obstacles to content, so cleverly masked as duties. Trials made out to be solutions and burdens tailored for only the least willing to bear them. All of them, nothing more than a series of consequences that stem from being heir to a kingdom. Yukiko is Elian’s side effect, as the Flesh-Eater was mine. He traded the map for himself in a noble attempt to salvage his mission by sacrificing his pride. Things like this are expected. Predictable. But they’re also vexing.
I don’t know what I expected to achieve when I confronted Elian in the palace, but it wasn’t weeks of terse silence. I’m not sure why I even asked about Yukiko; it wasn’t why I waited for him while he dealt with the Págese royals. But I couldn’t help myself. Lately it has seemed impossible to try. Maybe that turned out in my favor, because my original reason to talk with him – to ask, maybe, if he’d ever considered an alliance – wasn’t much better. It was stupid to think I could just walk right up to him and ask if he was willing to forge a peace between our kind. I won’t kill you if you don’t kill me. It’s ridiculous. It’s simple for me to consider making a deal with someone who’s shown me nothing but loyalty and a way to walk a path I hadn’t thought possible before. Free from the shadows of my mother’s reign, a new era not determined by death. A delicate peace, even. But how can I expect Elian to do the same when he doesn’t even know who I am? When I murdered his friend and countless other princes? When I plotted to murder him?
I climb with Elian’s back to me, but his face is clear in my mind. As the sky fades to darkness and then the sun climbs higher again, we carry on that way. The farther we get up the mountain, the more I begin to drive myself crazy with thinking. Replaying conversations and actions and opportunities. Wondering when I began to feel so utterly human.
The sky turns to so many shades of blue that I lose count. It’s a quilt of color, blending perfectly through the clouds. Painting itself like a backdrop for the white glow of the moon and its guiding starlight.
“We have to move faster!” Yukiko yells. I can barely hear her voice above the ice winds. “Our next camp is two hours ahead, and we need to make it before sundown.”
Elian pauses and holds out the map, and the storm batters it in his grasp. The edges are crisp with winter, and when his fingers clasp the parchment tighter, trying to keep hold as the wind gathers strength, it splinters.
“Sundown is in an hour!” Elian yells back.
Yukiko’s breath clouds between them. “Hence, we need to move faster.”
The wind muffles their voices, but even I can hear the sound of Elian’s sigh. His shoulders slump a little and he casts a quick glance to check that we’re all still behind him.
“It’s doable,” he calls over to us, though I’m not sure if he’s telling us or trying to convince himself.
“I’m not sure I can walk without my toes,” Kye says.
“Madrid will carry you.”
“I don’t have toes either. Or fingers, actually.” Madrid holds up her gloved hands and whimpers. “I think I lost a few yesterday.”
“At least they’ll be well preserved then.” Kye presses his boot into the snow for emphasis. “If we pick them up on the way down, a healer should be able to stitch them right back on.”
Though I can only make out Madrid’s eyes, I’m sure she grimaces.
“We don’t have time for this,” Yukiko says. “Stop wasting your energy and move.”
Madrid sticks a snow pole into the ground and pulls her fur mask down. Frost gathers on her lips. “Is that a royal command?” she asks.
Yukiko throws back her headdress and it’s like the weather parts for her. She commands the cold like I once did. “You are in my kingdom.”
“But not in your court,” Madrid says. She wipes her tattooed cheek, where the wind has begun to blister it, and nods to Elian. “Our king is right there.”
“You’re forgetting something, aren’t you? He’s not a king yet.”
If the air hadn’t already been frozen, I’m sure that last comment would have done it. Kye stiffens and I see his hand twitch by his side. Quickly, Elian shoots him a sharp glance, and reluctantly, Kye lets his posture relax. Still, his hands keep twitching.