Followed by Frost

by Charlie N. Holmberg

“Thank you for sparing the boy in the village.” Sadriel frowned. Crossing one leg over the other, he said, “Mercy is not in my domain, Smitha. A man either dies or he does not. My only role is as the gatekeeper.”

For happiness has wings, and when burdened by the things a man should want, Garen could not reach it.

Happiness had wings; I could only hope to be the wind that helped him fly.

“Cursed to be as cold as your heart,” Sadriel said, his voice moving toward the end of the bed. “It seems the warmth of the truly selfless broke it.” He sighed. “Yet another one lost.”

“Your hair,” he said, closer. Right beside me. A cool finger brushed the side of my head. “That’s when I noticed it. Giving up beauty, I suppose. And that savage soldier of yours. You let him go rather easily, hmm?”

“I did not recognize you earlier. I did not think . . . such a thing was possible.” I softened and returned his smile. “Neither did I. Had I known, I would have shot myself a long time ago.”

“Because it would not be fair to Faida,” he murmured, “to trap her in a marriage when I have such feelings for another. It would not be fair to either of us.” I couldn’t breathe. “I love you, Misa.” “No!” I shouted, jumping to my feet, finally looking at him. Tears rimmed my eyes. “You couldn’t have known . . . You didn’t know I had broken the curse!” “I did not,” he said, strangely calm. “But that changes nothing.”

gave you up. I broke the curse because I gave you up!” That froze him in his steps. Another sob shook me, and I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my gown, for all the good it did me. “It was everything. I had to be selfless. I didn’t know—I had to give it all up. My hair . . . my life . . . you. It was the only way to warm a cold heart.” “You do not have a cold heart, Misa.” “But I did!” I cried. “I did, and I-I don’t know . . . I don’t know . .

“You don’t know if accepting me will bring the curse back.” I pressed my lips together in a futile effort to keep from crying and nodded.

But I had been cold for so long. “The last thing I want is to hurt you,” he said, lowering his head so he could look directly into my eyes. “Take whatever time you need to consider; I don’t need an answer now. Whatever you decide, I will be content. Nothing you can say will change my heart.”

Yet Lo had shamed himself and broken a centuries-long tradition for the sake of being with a woman whom he believed had no chance of being normal again. But no matter how strong his feelings for me, no man could be happy with a woman followed by frost, who could not be intimate with him or bear him children, who could not so much as sit down for tea without summoning the sharp winds and frigid snows of a deep-winter tempest.

If my curse returned, I could continue to help Zareed and its people. They would never go hungry or thirsty again. Lo, Imad, Aamina, Eyan . . . all of them. I could care for them until death claimed me.

I owed Sadriel a great debt, in the end, but could I knowingly invite Death back into my life, and into Lo’s? Could I balance those two men, one who could kill me and one whom I could kill? I thought of the hunter from the mountains and grimaced.