On the Edge of the Blade: Book One

Chapter Sixteen

That day, Winter went home from skating. This was unique for a Friday. Usually, Winter stayed at Icebreakers over the weekend. But the next day was Thanksgiving Break, so Winter had to go home.

He burst into Chateau de Glace around six pm with a huge smile on his face. This was also unique. Usually, Winter was downcast whenever he arrived home.

But today was no usually. After today, Winter wouldn't have to see his family for two months. Two whole months! Winter spun around in excitement, glad no one had met him in the foyer. Winter left his bag in the hallway, since he would be at most an hour. He raced through the maze of hallways and staircases that led to his room. He had a feeling there was nothing he needed – he had clothes at Icebreakers, and anything he liked was also there, since if his parents found out he liked something, they would most likely take it away. Winter had only come home as a formality, since his parents had told him he had to.

Winter took one last glance around his room, delighted that he wouldn't have to step foot in it again until mid-January. Then he went downstairs again, to where his family was sitting in the formal living room, being all formal and annoying as usual.

"Hello," his mother said drily when she saw him in the doorway. "We were unaware that you were coming home."

"Only for a few hours," Winter said. He took a seat in his usual spot – the armchair on the other side of the room from the rest of the family. "I needed to ask you something." Winter took a deep breath, glancing at his little sister.

Kirsi was in the chair next to him, curled up with a book. She looked frankly miserable – though that was because of the family and not the book. She liked reading.

Kirsi, like Winter and Iclyn, was also a figure skater, though she didn't skate nearly as much. But whenever she did skate, she stayed the night at Icebreakers with Winter. She was just as miserable at Chateau de Glace as he was.

"What did you 'need' to ask us?" Bryce asked suspiciously.

Winter took another deep breath. "Can Kirsi stay here with me?"

Kirsi sat upright in her chair, her face lighting up. "Please, Father?"

Winter's father frowned. He and Antoinette exchanged a glance. "If you don't want to go to France, then you should go to France," he said. "You're such a scoundrel, you need constant punishing."

Winter's hands curled into fists. He quickly unclenched them, not wanting his parents to notice. "But she doesn't want to go to France, right?" he said, glancing at Kirsi, who nodded emphatically. "Why wouldn't she want to go to France? It gets you out of school, and if you don't go, you miss out on all the cool touristy things you do."

Winter's aunt, Glacier, raised an eyebrow. "If you like going to France, then why haven't you gone for the past five years?"

Winter sighed dramatically. "I can't go. I wish I could, but I can't, because of skating. My coaches wouldn't let me miss a day for anything except illness." That was a complete lie. The Elites went on a summer trip every year, and the trip had nothing to do with skating.

"Ah, yes," Bryce said disapprovingly. "Skating." The word sounded wrong on his tongue, as if instead of being a sport, it was a disease that needed to be eradicated. "The thing that is so important to you."

Again, Winter's hands clenched into fists. He had to lock his jaw to keep from responding angrily. "Yes."

Bryce sighed, a long and irritated sigh that set Winter's teeth on edge. "So, we know – even if we don't understand – why you can't go anywhere, but why can't Kirsi go?"