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She knew there was more to the aggression between Rothen and Slödava than some long-standing, pointless feud. Slödava had something that Rothen wanted — Rime Ice. Her father had waxed poetic on the subject countless times.
The magic-imbued weapons were supposedly forged directly from the ice of a glacier in the far north, which only the people of Slödava could access. They were indestructible weapons of legend.
It was said that the damage these weapons inflicted was far beyond any a mortal blade could cause, their wielders granted unnatural strength and speed. King Rafe had desperately wanted Rime Ice, but Slödava had refused to even acknowledge its existence. But Rafe, and the kings before him, had never stopped hunting it, as if obsessed. Their intermittent attacks on the kingdom of Slödava were unending. This was why, Rafe had once explained to Elma, the Slödavans battered themselves against the walls of Frost in snow-born raids, why the Queen of Slödava would do anything to put an end t...
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“Don’t touch her.”
“I will personally see to it that you’re silenced.” Rune stepped forward into the light and leaned arrogantly over her chair, practically draping himself across it, smiling viciously. “She means I’ll cut out your tongue.”
One day you’ll outright laugh at something I say and hate yourself for it.” His eyes shone. “I can’t wait.”
“One day, you’ll let me in on those twisted thoughts of yours.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Say anything about what? How good you taste? The sound you make when you come? How much I want to kill whoever’s outside your door and lay you out on the bed just so I can hear that sound again?” He smiled serenely. “I won’t say a word.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Majesty, I am nothing if not yours.”
“But if I let you go, you’ll try to kill me. And while dying at your hand would be my greatest privilege, I’d at least like a chance to explain myself before that happens.” He
“You’re afraid of your compassion. It never fit within the bounds of what your father expected, what you learned. I think your mothers would have saved me, too.” He smiled. “And I am honored to die as your weapon.”
“I’ll see you,” she said instead, drinking in that last sight of him, his wan smile, the curl of sweaty hair at his ears, the cocky tilt of his head, even now. “I’ll see you in the after.” He raised one hand in farewell. “In the after.”
“Then he doesn’t know me at all,” Rune growled, “because I’ll dismantle this arena stone by stone before I watch you die.”
