Snow Maiden - Excerpt from Updated Chapter 13
An excerpt from my fairy tale romance, Snow Maiden.
Eyes barely open, Nika stared through the dark blur of her eyelashes to make out the ceiling above. She tried sitting up, but the fog in her head held her in place. With heroic effort, she managed to bend her elbows underneath her. Groggy and sluggish, that was as far as she went. Her waking awareness picked up another beside her, but it wasn’t Vasilli. No, Vasilli remained unwell. Now she remembered they’d sent her away. She had to get back to him, needed to get back to him at once!
“Lie still, mistress,” a deep voice muttered.
She blinked, confused.
“Wha-, what happened?”
“You fainted,” Ilya said.
Finally, he came into focus. Dark hair and a full beard contrasted his light green eyes. Green, not blue like Vasilli’s
“I need to see Vasilli, Ilya. You must take me to him.”
He shook his head from side to side slowly.
“You need more rest, and to eat something.”
He brought a tray with a bowl of something on it to the bed she found herself in and placed it on her lap. The smell of fish stew filled her nose, causing her stomach to yawn like an empty cavern. When he brought the stew to her lips, she took a sip. Ilya gave a nod of approval when she swallowed.
“It’s no wonder you collapsed,” he said, handing her the spoon. “I don’t think you’ve eaten anything since the last time we stopped on the trail. That was hours before the ambush even.” He clucked his tongue. “Poor little sparrow.”
“Ilya, who were those men with Va-, in the king’s room? And what were they doing?”
Judging by the way he frowned, she didn’t want to know the answer.
“They are the king’s advisors and physicians. They are there to help him get well.”
“But what will they do?” Nika pressed, a dull throbbing making itself known at her temples.
“Bors brought them. He thinks Vasilli may need their herbals or even to be bled. They are here to see that the king gets the right treatments. I thank you, Lady Nika. You were truly a force to behold last night.”
He spoke of her taking charge, and ordering all of Vasilli’s subjects about. The throb turned into a pounding right before a sharp stab came into her gut.
“Aagh!”
She cried out, nearly dropping her bowl. Ilya caught the dish.
He gave her a worried look.
“Do you need me to bring someone for you?” He asked.
“No,” she choked the word out. Then something urgent, an insistent roll of foreboding, rose in her chest. She threw back the covers and stood up. “They are hurting him!” She looked directly into Ilya’s face.
Certain she was feeling pain because of Vasilli’s pain, she moved to push by Ilya to run to him. Ilya’s mouth opened in surprise, then closed to a grim line. He nodded in understanding. They hurried out of the little servant’s room where Nika had been lying on a pallet, but didn’t go the same way they had the previous night.
“I don’t want Bors or the king’s physicians to see us,” Ilya told her.
Nika wondered why he didn’t question her, but it didn’t matter. Vasilli was in immediate danger and she had to get to him. Maybe her conviction proved enough for Ilya to trust her. Either way, she was determined to reach the king.
They hurried through a big, open room, then up steps that emptied out on the opposite end of the hallway from where Vasilli was being kept. All the physicians were just coming from there, so Ilya pushed Nika back up the bottom steps. They hid, waiting. Finally, he peeked around the alcove and motioned for her to follow him.
“They’re gone,” he said, keeping his voice low.
When they entered the room, sickening medicinal aromas filled the air, hitting them like a wall. Nika stopped. She was used to the scent of herbs and tonics, but the pungent scents that filled her nostrils were ominous. What had those fools given him?
She hardly knew Vasilli at all, but she’d seen the picture of a strong warrior he made. She’d felt it. Even with a fever, he shouldn’t be in the dire state he faced right now. Her healer’s premonition—a sixth sense, one of Nika’s “gifts” Yula had called it—allowed her to feel where the heart of a patient’s pain stemmed from. Unfortunately, sometimes she felt it too well. Right now, her throat burned. All over, it felt like fire coursed through her veins, and wrenching pain grabbed at her stomach.
Her eyes flew to Vasilli on the bed. His body was stiff and bowed with pain. She ran to him, throwing herself down on the floor to kneel beside him, placing her hands on his head.
“Poison,” she spoke into the space above him, nearly a whisper, but Ilya heard.
He came forward into the room.
“What?” He asked. “How can you know?”
Vasilli twisted on the bed, dry, coughing sounds coming from him, as though he tried to yell but couldn’t force the sound from his tortured throat.
“Shh,” Nika soothed. She placed her palm on his, then turned to Ilya. She wanted no one else allowed in the room. “Your king has been poisoned. Who do you think is responsible for that, if not one of them?” She jerked her head at the doorway. “He will die if you don’t let me help him. But my methods are not conventional.”
Ilya stared at her like he couldn’t fathom what she meant. Then Vasilli made that awful sound again, his back arching off the bed. The huntsman’s eyes locked on his friend. Gradually, they went back to Nika. She remained still, stoic, matching his stare. She didn’t know what Ilya saw when he looked at her, but she lengthened her spine to level her gaze on him. A peasant girl, unworthy of any kind of deference; she knew how the world saw her. But she needed Ilya’s help to save Vasilli’s life so she would act the queen… sorceress of the forest, if that’s what it took to make him comply.
It worked.
He took in a breath, then nodded.
“Shut the door,” she told him. “Let no one in.”
He did exactly as she said, even leaving the room to stand guard in the hall.
Nika blew out the breath she’d been holding and turned back to Vasilli. His eyes squeezed tight with pain. Pain she felt as well, but she steeled herself beyond it as Yula had taught her to do. The knowledge that what she felt was a shadow of what her patient felt gave her the courage to go on. Her body experienced only sensations and nothing that could truly harm her. Now that they were alone, she set about working her second talent, the one that would have ended her life if anyone from her village had ever known, ever seen.
Instantly, the temperature in the room dropped to freezing. In her next heartbeat, the walls and the furniture frosted next. Nika’s breath puffed out in thick, white streams until all the heat inside of her left. Vasilli’s hair iced into spiky clumps where, just before, it had been wet with sweat. A thin sheen of crystals dusted his cheeks and chest.
Nika’s hands went to his neck, in the hollow where tendon met bone. Immediately, his strangled coughs ceased. His skin grew tinged with blue wherever her hands touched. The purple blood coursing through his veins rose to the surface of his skin, slowly moving, regenerating, and filtering tainted parts out before the poison could move into his heart. Leaning forward, Nika touched her lips to his forehead to cool the fever there. Unable to stop herself, she moved lower, down to his lips. How they remained so soft in this frozen state, she didn’t know. They thawed her own the moment their mouths met.
All on their own, Vasilli’s lips opened. Nika moaned and sank against him. Hard to soft, ice to flame. Death turned to life in an instant. His heart beat, strong and sure again—not the slow faint pulse of the freeze, but a resounding surge of good, clean blood rushing in to heal. Her own heartbeat answered back.
Vasilli’s eyes came open then, meeting Nika’s. She jerked in surprise and started to pull away. What was she thinking? She’d healed him already, she had no business kissing a… a king! But his big hands grasped her shoulders. He pulled her back to him, pressing his mouth to hers more securely. Nika’s awareness of anything else faded away.
He tasted cool, like a fresh spring. Kissing him reminded her of taking in water after a long spell of nothing but thirst. She couldn’t get enough.
Her hands splayed over his chest, his heart jumping into her palm with each beat. Whoever sought his death would be disappointed by the strength of it. His hand drifted into her hair, freeing it from the knot she had tied it in earlier. The whole pale mass of it fell in a heavy curtain around them as Vasilli deepened the kiss.
Nerve endings all over Nika’s body came alive. They sparkled inside, mimicking the frost she had worked up in the room. Happiness filled her whole being. He was alive! Her cold gift saved him.
With that thought, she pulled away from him. Their hot breaths clouded in the air as soon as their lips released. He knew now… knew what she was.
She blinked, blue eyes wide with alarm. Vasilli wore a contented, sleepy smile. His hands lingered on her hips. It would have never been apparent that he’d been at death’s door mere moments ago.
“Vasilli… I-I mean… my king… I,”
“Nika,” he reached for her, but she jumped up, slipping out of his grasp.
“I’m sorry,” she looked at the frosted bedroom. Everywhere, things dripped with moisture as the temperature warmed.
Vasilli sat up, causing the blankets to pool at his hips. Nika’s breath caught at the full reveal of his entirely bare torso. She swallowed.
“Sorry? Nika, you saved me.”
He moved to get up, but sounds of shouting came from outside the door before it burst open.
Ilya rushed in first. He’d obviously tried to keep the door shut, but right behind him stormed an angry Bors and the king’s physician.
“Vasilli,” Ilya said, a breath of astonishment escaped him, “you are well, my king.”
His stare passed from Vasilli to Nika, a relieved smile filling his features.
“What is she doing in here?”
This came from the physician.
“And what happened to this room?” Bors glared at the wet walls that now trickled streams of water down to the floor.
“What ill magic is this?”
The physician turned his hawkish gaze on Nika.
“If not for her, I would be on my way to Nawia.” Vasilli’s eyes speared the doctor. “Treachery has always been a problem in the Northern Kingdom, has it not, my friends? It is well known that traitors abound.” His stare shifted back to Nika. “But perhaps our fortunes will turn with the meeting of our new guest.”
Nika shivered. The thaw fully set in, awakening her nerves as well as her flesh. She took in the scene, not knowing what might happen next. Vasilli’s face held impassive. The color of health had returned to him, but the ice in his eyes did not bode well for the physician. And well that it didn’t. That man’s “medicine” all but killed him.
“Ilya, Bors,” Vasilli ordered, “show the doctor to his new place of residence in the dungeon, then gather up any who helped him.”
Both men immediately grabbed the doctor, who started to protest right away.
“But, sire,” he pleaded. They dragged him from the room, though not before he called out. “She’s a witch! A sorceress—the devil’s consort!”
His voice faded down the hall. Nika still flinched at his words. She’d so hoped she’d find a place in Vasilli’s kingdom, escape the life she’d led before—the life of an outcast. Looking down at the ground, she awaited King Vasilli’s judgement. Now that he knew her secret, her fate certainly lay in the dungeon, same as the wicked court’s physician.
“Nika, come.”
Her eyes jumped to Vasilli sitting on the bed. All remnants of the healing freeze were drying up, and he bore no signs of having nearly died. In truth, he looked incredible. Another shiver ran through her, this time for different reasons. He held out his hand to her, palm up in invitation. She went, her feet moving of their own accord, before she made them. When she placed her hand in his, he tugged gently, causing her to kneel down beside him next to the bed.
“I never meant for anyone to know.” She whispered.
“Little doe,” his thumb brushed the top of her hand, “didn’t I tell you this is a place where magic happens?”
She brought her eyes up to his, wide and blue as the ocean and as open to him as her heart. She’d laid herself bare to save him. Now she waited for what came next. Slowly, she nodded. His smile broke, bright and brilliant, and Nika melted just a little bit more.
She smiled back, unable to help it, but quickly looked down again.
“Not all magic is good, as you know, my king.”
He brought his hand under her chin, forcing her eyes up to his again.
“No,” his tone darkened, “of course not. Never lived a kingdom more beset with dark magic than mine.” He touched his thumb to the center of her lips. The barest of pressures, it seared all the way down deep in her middle. “But yours is not of that kind, fair one. I won’t have you lamenting something you were born with—something you cannot change.”
His face turned serious, stern nearly, but his hand drifted to toy with her hair.
“You won’t?” Nika asked, attempting a smile.
He shook his head slowly, eyes not leaving hers.
“No, in fact, I command that you don’t.”
“Command,” she laughed.
“Don’t laugh,” he attempted an air of gravity. “This is a royal decree.”
His voice rose on the last, but Nika couldn’t keep from giggling. He laughed with her then, dispelling all tension from the air.
His eyes moved to where his hand still played idly in her hair.
“Now I know the reason my heart leapt when I saw this.” He lifted a heavy lock, then looked back at her. “When I saw you.”
“Vasilli,” Nika breathed.
He pulled her up to sit on the bed, holding her hands in his. A loud knock sounded on the door, breaking the spell. Vasilli sighed. Nika frowned at his apparent exhaustion. The poor man needed rest, more than anything.
“Come,” he called toward the door.
Ilya appeared from behind it, his stare immediately going to their hands. Nika moved to pull back, but Vasilli’s grip wouldn’t allow it.
“It is done.” Ilya said, his eyes on Vasilli. “With all that has happened, the ambush and now this, Lord Zrago surely employed a traitor in our midst, my king.”
“I thought we routed all the mage’s spies some time ago,” Vasilli sounded more weary by the second.
“Yes,” Ilya nodded. “I speak of a traitor. Maybe one of our own. Bors has been acting strange…”
“Bors is always strange.” Vasilli cut him off. “I know the two of you don’t get along, Ilya, but the man is a loyal subject. My father held him in confidence during his reign. He valued his council. I know his manner is gruff, but I won’t hear you speak ill of him just because he is no friend to you.”
Ilya’s jaw clamped down. Nika clearly saw him biting his tongue. Finally, he nodded.
“Yes, of course, sire. I still think we should be watchful, especially in light of what just happened. Those doctors would have had a hard time bringing in poison without someone helping them.”
Vasilli nodded his agreement.
“Yes, my friend, the war goes on even with winter coming. I find no reprieve from it. Tell the men we train must harder to prepare. Gather a small number of those you trust most and keep them on lookout.”
Ilya nodded once, then left. Vasilli let out another tired sigh. He brought Nika’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on her knuckles. A fluttering sensation grew her stomach at the contact. He accepted her. He saw her talent as a gift and not a curse.
“You see,” he said, “your skills with healing, accompanied by a pure heart, are of great value in a place such as this. We need all the forces of good magic we can acquire here to fight the dark mage, Lord Zrago. In the Northern Kingdom, you are a treasure beyond words, Lady Nika.”
Her heart swelled in her chest at his words.
“Thank you, my lord. That is kind of you to say.”
He smiled sadly, moving only those beautiful lips of his she was foolishly falling more in love with by the second. He released her hand, settled back against his pillows. The fatigue of barely escaping death drew down on him. Eyes closed, he said one final thing.
“If only you could heal this cursed kingdom as you healed me, little snow maiden.”
Copyright 2024 Excerpt from Snow Maiden by Amanda V Shane.
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