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Icebound (Legends of the Shifters Book 2) Page 9


  I shifted nervously. “Um…because the phoenix is part of some prophecy?”

  “You are part of a prophecy. This isn’t about the phoenix, girl. This is about you.”

  I flinched at the intensity of his words and nodded mutely.

  “What do you know of the prophecy?” he continued.

  I tilted my head. “I’m supposed to save the kingdoms?”

  He crossed his arms. “It seems so. At least, that’s what we’ve been told.”

  “What you’ve been told?” I questioned. “You don’t know the entire prophecy?”

  His broad shoulders lifted and sunk as he breathed in a deep sigh. “Unfortunately, no. We only have hints. Only the royal family of Onwin know the true prophecy.”

  “Then why am I not on my way there?” I asked, finding it difficult to hold in my annoyance.

  “You’ll get there in due time. Plus, I’ve invited one of them to stay at the palace. Princess Cecile. I hope to persuade her to tell you before you have to trek all the way to their capital.”

  Beside me, Prince Matthias tensed up.

  I frowned. “Is there any other information that you know?”

  The king stepped away and turned his head to the wall behind him. “Just look at this tapestry. Do you notice anything strange?”

  I studied the city of Erabyn and the castle above it, but found nothing strange until I focused on the sun. “The shadows are long.”

  “What was that?” asked the king.

  “The sun is at its peak, but the shadows are long,” I repeated, my eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

  The king smiled once again. “Correct. Come closer.” I stood and made my way around the desk. “Anything else?” he said.

  My gaze immediately fastened back onto the sun, and I spotted something red stitched into the fabric. I looked closer. “A phoenix,” I said. Sewn in thin maroon thread was the fire bird, its wings outstretched and its mouth open as if it itself was creating the fiery orb surrounding it.

  “This tapestry is portraying a time when darkness is covering the land, but also a time when the sun—and the phoenix—are at their highest. You represent hope for our kingdom in a time of shadows.”

  “Is darkness overshadowing the kingdom right now?” I asked.

  “You tell me,” he said. “More and more of my soldiers disappear each day, and the rulers of Onwin and Kislow are saying the same thing to me in their letters. Ginsey and Pira are killing them.”

  I raised my eyebrows, surprised that he didn’t know the truth. “You’re wrong.”

  The king scrutinized me, a warning look in his eye. “I’m wrong?”

  I nodded. “King Ciaran’s numbers are growing every day. He’s stealing your men.”

  The king’s grip tightened on the back of the chair in front of him and he narrowed his eyes. “My men would never do such a thing.”

  “I thought you would already know what’s happening to them,” I said.

  He crossed his arms. “And what’s that?”

  “He’s controlling them with blood magic.”

  It took a moment for him to process the information. When he had, he sat heavily in his chair, his dark eyes flitting out the window. “If you’re right, Ivy...then the prophecy must be upon us. King Ciaran will destroy us all, with Pira as their ally.”

  “Pira?” I asked.

  The king nodded. “Pira has always been an ally of Ginsey. If Ginsey fights, Pira will join—”

  “You have to be the phoenix of prophecy, Ivy,” cut in Prince Matthias, his gray eyes boring into my own. “You could save us all.”

  King Giddon suddenly rose out of his chair and walked over to a shelf stacked with scrolls. He reached up and took one from the top shelf. Then, he came back to the desk and set it in front of me. “Which is why I’ve decided to make you a Leviathan noble.”

  The document in front of me was a map, and circled was a city in the mainland, just south of Erabyn.

  King Giddon placed his finger on the city. “That’s where your new home will be. You will be Lady Ivy of the Brinestone Estate.”

  -Chapter Fourteen-

  I stared at the king, speechless. Finally, I managed to say, “Is—is that even possible? I thought you had to be born into nobility.”

  “Of course it is,” he replied, his jaw clenched stubbornly. “I have absolute rule over this kingdom. You are the phoenix, the probable savior of my people. If I want you to be a lady, you’ll be a lady.”

  “But—”

  “I will not change my mind,” the king said firmly. “The ceremony is to be held two days from now. I’ll have the best seamstresses in Erabyn see after your dress.” With a dismissive gesture, he said, “Matthias, show her to her rooms. We’ll continue our talk of the prophecy soon.”

  The prince stood and held out his arm. I stared at the king as he began to sort through the papers on his desk, but he didn’t look back up. In a daze, I took Prince Matthias’s arm. He led me to the door, unlocked it, and then stepped outside. As soon as the door was shut, I withdrew my hand from his arm. “You have to find some way to stop this. I can’t be a lady.”

  He narrowed his eyes as he began to walk back the way we’d come. “Is there something wrong with having power and a name for yourself?” He paused for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts. “What about all the money that you could distribute to the poor? Or all the orphans you could house on such an enormous estate?”

  I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, reluctant to show that he’d struck a chord with his manipulation. “I have a problem with the extra responsibility of owning the property and the servants. It just…doesn’t sit well with me.”

  The prince frowned. “You’re going to have to get used to it. You don’t want my father as an enemy.”

  I held in a laugh. “He would consider me an enemy if I refused his gift?”

  His looked away. “In a manner of speaking.”

  We stopped beside a white, arched door that stood out between two tapestries.

  “This is it,” Matthias said as he opened it for me.

  I went past him into the large room. All the furnishings were white, like the door. A four poster bed was draped with a light blue bedspread, and the tall windows were framed with elegant curtains of the same color.

  The prince spoke up from behind me. “My father knows what’s best for the kingdom.”

  I turned to face him with pursed lips and no reply.

  He took a step back, eyes stormy. “You’ll see.”

  I stared at the place where he’d stood, at the stained glass that depicted a ship sailing on fair seas. Thrown into nobility unwillingly? This is definitely not what I expected when I left the conservatory.

  I stepped forward to close the door, but was stopped short when a woman appeared in the doorway. Her breath came in short bursts as if she’d hurried to get there.

  She wore a white gossamer gown that had a lace collar and long, flowing sleeves. Her eyes were pale periwinkle and her white-blonde hair was braided and twisted into a bun.

  After a while, the surprise passed and unease settled in. “Can I help you?”

  She snorted, causing her beauty to fade in my eyes. “You speak like a servant girl.” Her voice was thick with a strange accent I’d never heard before. She stepped in the room and looked me up and down. “You are the one they call the phoenix, yes?”

  I crossed my arms. “Yes.”

  She circled me. “You need to eat more. A twig isn’t likely to save anyone.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Did you just come here to insult me? Because if that’s the case, I invite you to leave.”

  She gave me a condescending smile. “I came to check under the bed. My servants forgot to bring something of mine.”

  I frowned with the realization that I was speaking to Princess Cecile of Onwin. I watched silently as she crossed to the other side of the room, and lifted the dust ruffle. “Ah,” she said, pulling out a wooden bin. “Here it is
.”

  I looked at it with one raised eyebrow. “Couldn’t you have sent a servant to retrieve that?”

  She shrugged. “I could have…but then I wouldn’t be able to convey my message.”

  I braced myself. “And what is that?”

  She ambled forward until our faces were inches apart. “Stay away from Prince Matthias. The only way Onwin and Leviatha will ever be able to form a lasting alliance is if the two of us marry.”

  I restrained a laugh of surprise. “Rest assured that I have no intention of pursuing a romance with your prince.”

  From the other side of the room, a loud voice rang out, dissolving the tension. “I do hope we aren’t interrupting something.”

  Princess Cecile and I took a step back from each other and turned to face the person who had spoken. It was a rather large woman, tall and wide with broad shoulders and thick fingers. She was outfitted in a gaudy indigo dress with gold embroidery on the hem and a golden bodice. Although it is unkind to laugh at one’s clothing choices, she made it extremely hard not to.

  “Dame Guthrie,” Princess Cecile said as she smoothed back a stray hair. “I was just welcoming Ivy to the palace.”

  Dame Guthrie gurgled out a laugh. At least, I thought it was a laugh. “If I truly believed that, I would remind you that you only arrived three days ago.”

  Princess Cecile pursed her lips. “And then I would reply that you should watch your tongue. I’m still above your rank.”

  Dame Guthrie stepped forward, a challenge in her eye. “Maybe if we were in Onwin, Princess.”

  The princess’s grip tightened on her wooden bin. “Good day, Guthrie,” she said as she walked past the large woman and out the door.

  The woman didn’t bother to curtsy as she passed. She turned and studied me. “Hmm. You are a slight thing, aren’t you?”

  I made no effort to reply, and she didn’t ask for one.

  “My assistants should be here shortly,” she said. “But while they’re gone, tell me… Did you really save the prince and his personal guard from a raging fire?”

  “Uh…yes,” I answered, surprised by her question.

  She smiled widely. “Then your dress shall be the most beautiful piece of work I have ever made.”

  Hopefully, her definition of beauty ranged far from what she herself was wearing.

  She turned on her heal as her assistants came into the room, carrying armloads of supplies. “There you are,” she said as they dropped everything on the ground.

  Dame Guthrie walked toward one of the doorways. “Not in there, you two. In here,” she chided.

  The two assistants took in a deep breath simultaneously, bent down, and began to pick everything back up. I started to help them, but Dame Guthrie peeked her head around the corner and said, “Lady Ivy, leave them to it, please.”

  I obeyed her, but didn’t feel right about it.

  The next room, I realized, was a closet as big as the bedroom adjacent to it, with a large floor-length mirror covering the entire back wall. The shelves and rungs were completely bare.

  “Ah, the beauty of an empty closet,” said Dame Guthrie. “So many possibilities for the clothes that will come to fill it.” She hefted a sigh. “Of course, you won’t be here long enough for me to make you more than one or two dresses.”

  “How will you manage to make one in only two days?” I questioned.

  “Nimble fingers,” she said as she raised one of her pudgy hands. “And assistants, of course. Your gown is my first priority.”

  “How long have you known?”

  Her forehead wrinkled as she thought. “Oh, about two weeks now? Something like that… Anyway, it was enough time to draw up a few designs while the prince went to get you.”

  So this was the plan all along…

  Dame Guthrie’s assistants pushed past me to set her things at her feet. “You know what to do,” she said.

  Without complaint, they both got straight to work. I imagine that if they did complain, their fate would be a whole lot worse with a woman like Dame Guthrie in charge of it.

  When a platform was set up in front of the mirror, the heavy seamstress took me by the arm and pulled me toward it. “Up where I can see you.”

  The girl handed her a tape measure. Guthrie took it and began making her measurements.

  I did whatever she told me, feeling like a puppet as the puppeteer pulled the strings.

  She set out some fabrics for me to choose from, and soon found out that my favorite color was light green. “Interesting. It does bring out your eyes.”

  An hour later, when the session was finally over, Dame Guthrie gave me a kiss on both cheeks and said her goodbyes.

  I slumped into a chair and stared out at the ocean, glad that I’d been given a room facing it. The sun was just starting to set and the orange light danced off the rippling waves hypnotically. My eyes drifted closed for a few moments until another knock sounded at the door. I jerked out of my stupor, confused at the sudden darkness outside. I’d fallen asleep.

  The knock rang out louder and the door opened without my consent. “Ivy?” I looked back to see Sir Lochlan. “Why didn’t you answer the door?”

  “You have a habit of knocking while I’m asleep,” I replied drowsily as I stood.

  He walked over and held an envelope out. “This is for you.”

  I took it from his hands. The only name on it was my own. “Who is it from?” I asked as I broke the dark green seal.

  “I have my suspicions, but I know for certain it’s from Ginsey.”

  “Ginsey?” I looked closer at the seal, noticing for the first time the elaborate G stamped into the wax.

  He nodded. “And I’d prefer to be here when you read it.”

  I bit my lip as I pulled out the folded paper and opened it.

  Dear Ivy,

  By the time you read this letter, King Giddon will have already made the proposition of making you a lady. How do I know that, you may ask?

  I have eyes everywhere.

  I’m watching you, Ivy, and I don’t need a silly necklace for that.

  When you choose to join my ranks, my gates are always open to you, and your friend, the griffin, will be released immediately.

  But if you don’t…let’s just say there’s only so much agony the human body can take.

  It’s your choice.

  Cordially,

  Ciaran A. Gregson,

  King of Ginsey,

  Head of the Saints of Sorcery

  -Chapter Fifteen-

  I dropped the letter as if it had burned me. I didn’t want to lay a finger on the same piece of paper that that man had touched.

  “How did it get here?” I asked.

  Sir Lochlan didn’t open his mouth to reply until he’d picked up the letter and read through it. “There was a messenger wearing the Ginsian crest. King Ciaran wanted us to know that he sent you a letter.” He paused to look down at the piece of paper in his hand. “I’m going to have to give this to the king.”

  I nodded. “I understand. Does he know that King Ciaran has spies here?”

  Worry lines etched into his forehead. “Yes, but I don’t know if we’ll ever find out just how many of our men have joined his ranks.”

  I looked out into the dark night, remembering the circle of robed figures that had surrounded Kurt and me in King Ciaran’s dungeon. “Have you ever heard of the Saints of Sorcery?”

  He held up the letter. “This is the first time I’ve heard them called that, but I have heard of them. They’re the ones that Roland talked about—who took over his mind.”

  I nodded. “The same ones that tried to take over me, too.”

  Darkness passed over his features as he creased the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. “You can never go back there.”

  My lips formed into a grim line. “I never want to.” But I have to.

  Sir Lochlan started back toward the open door, but paused before he shut it. “Try not to make many friends… We
never know who among us could be one of them.”

  * * * * *

  Later that night, a servant brought me dinner. Everything was prepared perfectly and set out on trays under metal lids. The bread was crunchy on the outside and soft and warm on the inside. The roast was tender and juicy. The vegetables were not too firm or too overcooked. It was delicious, but it was wasted on me.

  I could only think of the letter. He found out about the pendant.

  My only consolation was that the matching one was buried miles upon miles away and that King Ciaran still wanted Kurt alive. But how much longer would that last?

  While I was sitting here, eating a perfect dinner, in a perfect room, with no threats to my life, Kurt could be screaming in pain as the whip was brought down again and again, our own father gathering his blood on the bristles of a paint brush.

  My sleep was not sound.

  Early the next morning, a maid came in to wake me up.

  She shook my shoulder. “We have to get you ready, milady. The king has requested that you come to breakfast.”

  I was reluctant to get out of bed and face the day, but I forced myself to swing my feet to the ground.

  The woman walked to the other side of the room and opened the door for two more servants to come in, one carrying a satchel and the other holding something wrapped in brown parchment paper.

  “What are those?” I asked.

  The girl carrying the satchel opened it up for me to see the contents. There were soaps and brushes and perfumes and makeup. I’d never worn makeup in my life, and I certainly didn’t want to start now.

  “I don’t actually have to put that on, do I?” I asked, pointing to the various powders and inks.

  “It’s our job to make you look your best,” said the head maid. “You’re about to meet the rest of the royal family, after all.”

  I sighed and pointed to the thing wrapped in parchment. “And what’s that?”

  The servant girl handed it to me. “A gift from Dame Guthrie,” she said.