FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

The Heir

            I shot one last look over my shoulder before we left the throne room, and saw Charlotte standing in the crowd of Jotun, looking lost. Then I spotted Erik moving through the crowd toward her. Thank god, he could take her back to our room. I’m still not sure if I can remember all the twisting passages and corridors to get back there.

            We came to a split in passage before us, and the Queen led us to the right, the servants struggling to keep up with her and carry the heavy fur train. The procession stopped at a high arched doorway and the Queen turned to the servants and flicked a hand in dismissal.

            “Go get fresh tea ready for us.”

            They bowed and backed away, skirting around me. Queen Eira turned, “Come dear, I’ll show you the parlour.”

            I followed her into the spacious, high ceilinged room. It was about half the size of the training room, and still astonishingly huge for a parlour. The icy walls were decorated with colorful tapestries with woven depictions of pale warriors in battle against dark warriors. I moved closer to one, studying the faces of the light warriors, who were made to look almost angelic. Not so the dark ones. They had horrible grimaces on their faces and blood on their mouths. Obviously meant to show how evil they were.

            The Queen sat down on one of the white sofas, skirts rustling, “I see you admire the weaving. Beautiful work, is it not?”

            I nodded and made an appreciative noise in my throat, even though I didn’t think much of it. Queen Eira continued, “These are all depictions of the great battle,” her voice sounded sad, “there were so many lives lost. Including my daughter, Amora.”

            I turn around, heart in my throat. Would she tell me about Amora, the girl I was named for? I wanted to ask her a million questions. What had she been like? How did she die? But the open grief on the Queen’s face gave me pause. She didn’t seem one to indulge in a lot of emotions, so it obvious still effected her deeply.

            Her voice trembled a little, “The fire jotun took my daughter from me.” One gloved hand gripped the surface of her skirts, twisting the fabric, and her voice was tight. She looked up at me and her gaze softened a little, “and that’s why you and your friends are here. Why you are so important.”

            My voice is barely audible, “Why?”

            The Queen paused as the door opened and a pair of servants came in. They set down a silver tea pot and two cups and swept out of the room silently. She beckoned me to sit down, and I chose the straight backed chair in front of her, “I’m going to tell you something,” the Queen’s voice was low and urgent, “that you must not tell anyone right now. Not unless I tell you to. Especially don’t tell my son, Lief. He mustn’t know until the time is right.” She took a deep breath, looking as though she was steeling herself, and I leaned forward in my chair as she continued, “When I sent out those men to breed with the human females, I sent my husband, the king out as well.” She shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead, “you see, we both knew he was ill. He wasn’t going to live long. I’d already had Lief then, from…from a different man, a lover. But I knew of his temper, his rashness, and I wasn’t content to leave my kingdom to him. I needed another heir, but by then I was barren. Unable to conceive. So before my king died he went forth and mated with a human woman.”

            I could hardly hear her over the thrum of my heart in my ears.  The blood rushed to my face, and my cheeks prickled. My mind raced to catch up with the information, “you mean…”