“That one’s mine,” Nicholas said, pointing to the chair on the left. “The other is for my queen. It has been empty for some time.”
Mina stepped up on the dais. She knew better than to sit in the queen’s throne. Any indication that she wanted to replace his beloved Emilia would offend him. Instead, she sat in the king’s throne and stared out at the room with a lofty expression.
He laughed and gave an exaggerated bow. “You look better there than I do. Not that I use it often. People are always so eager to leave Whitespring that I hardly have time to impress them with my grand throne room. There’s a riddle there, I think: What kind of king rules over such a desolate castle?”
“A stubborn king.”
“Do you think so? What would you have me do instead?”
“Move court. Leave this dreary place behind and move south. You could finally finish the Summer Castle. I grew up near there, and I never understood why it was abandoned.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t do that. This is my home. To move away would be to admit defeat, to give in to Sybil’s curse and let her drive us away.”
“I’ve always thought that the North puts too much importance in Sybil. Maybe all you have to do to break the curse is take down her statue and stop revering her so highly. Or maybe this is no place for a king to rule at all, and she was doing you a favor by trying to drive you away.”
Nicholas laughed, but he stopped when he noticed that Mina wasn’t laughing with him. She’d meant it as a joke, but then she wondered if she might really believe it—maybe not about Nicholas, but about herself.
Nicholas lifted her chin. “What’s the matter?”
The truth came to her lips before she could stop it. “Sometimes I think Whitespring doesn’t want me here. Sometimes—” I think it knows what I am, she continued silently, and it has rejected me.
He took her hands and pulled her up from the throne and down from the dais to stand with him. One hand covering hers, he brought the other to her face, and he blinked in shock when his ungloved hand met her flesh, like he’d expected something else. The soft pads of his fingers brushed over the skin of her cheek, her jaw, her neck. Would he notice she had no pulse gently beating beneath her skin? She wanted to flinch away when his fingers reached her throat, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she kept still, letting him revel in the feel of something softer than air and warmer than memory.
His hand paused at last on her cheek, his thumb close to her lips. “Whitespring wants you here,” he said. “I want you here. Every time you shudder from the cold or wrap yourself more tightly in your furs, it reminds me that somewhere, the sun shines more brightly than it does here. You carry it in your skin.”
It was so easy to believe him. After all, didn’t she currently feel a million suns burning underneath her skin? Didn’t she feel them illuminating her from the inside out? Her heart was a mirror, reflecting the rays through her whole body and out from her eyes, desperate to throw its light over Nicholas as well. Unbidden, the truth struck her: If I could love anyone, it would be him.
“If it’s the sun you long for, why stay? Come to the South, to the hills where I was born, and I’ll show you the sun.”
His hand dropped from her cheek, and he shook his head. “Because I love the winter, too. The world here is frozen, and so it never changes, and so it is always what I expect it to be. There’s a comfort in that. And besides—” He gestured weakly to the queen’s throne and let his arm fall again in defeat. And though he didn’t say the words, Mina heard them clearly enough: And besides, how could I leave her?
Mina was struck with the childish urge to tip the chair over and give it a kick for good measure, but instead she said, “I understand. I wish I knew how to make the sun shine for you again.”
“Ah, only one person can do that.”
Mina bristled. “Lynet.”
The name drew out a smile, but it wasn’t for her. “What do I need the sun for, when I have Lynet?”
She’d taken him in the wrong direction. Mina needed to bring him back to her, away from Lynet, away from his dead wife. How can I make him happy again? she asked herself, but the reply was merciless: He doesn’t want to be happy. The times when he had reached out to her—at the picnic and under the juniper tree—had been when he’d seen Mina at her loneliest. If she wanted him to reach out to her again, she would have to give him a piece of her own sadness.
“I wish I’d grown up with a father who loved me as much as you love Lynet,” she said. Reminding him of her father was always a risk, but she knew a fragment of the truth would be more effective than a lie, no matter how artfully told.
And she was right. Her sadness drew him back to her. “Oh, Mina,” he said. “Is he cruel to you?”
Mina shook her head. “No, not cruel, but—” She faltered, biting her lip. “Nicholas, I—oh, I’m sorry, my lord, I shouldn’t have—”
“No, it’s fine,” he said, bringing his hand to her cheek again. “You may use my name.”
“Nicholas, you were right the other day—I am lonely. I have no one here, except … except for you.”
She wore an exquisite expression of pain and longing on her face, one that she’d practiced with Felix. She knew it was effective.
Nicholas was staring at her lips, and then he leaned forward, bringing his head down to hers—
The sound of the heavy door opening made Nicholas draw back like a guilty child. Mina glared at the intruder—Darian, the steward. The old man had lived at Whitespring far longer than anyone else had, and so he was in charge of running the place, perhaps even more so than Nicholas. “Forgive me, my lord,” he said. “There was no audience scheduled for the throne room, and yet I heard voices from within. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“Not at all,” Nicholas said, avoiding looking anywhere in Mina’s direction. “In fact … I … wanted to speak with you. Wait there.”
He turned to Mina. “I’ve enjoyed our talk today, and I hope you have as well. I trust you can find your way back to your rooms?”
“Yes, my lord,” Mina said quietly. “I won’t keep you any longer.”
He bowed his head to her in gratitude and hurried away with the steward, leaving Mina alone in the empty throne room.
* * *
Mina made a decision that night in the chapel. She went over the events of the day, the conversation in the throne room, thinking of the hidden truths she had told, the lies she had tried to wrap them in. There were lies she had to tell and truths she had to hide, but otherwise, she found herself longing for more moments like the ones they had shared—moments when she had revealed something true to him, something real.
If anyone could love me, it would be him.
She had tried to use pretense to win him, but in the end, she always slipped and let a little of the truth seep through—and when she did, he responded with warmth, with kindness. If he marries me, Mina decided, I’ll tell him the truth about my heart. I’ll tell him on my wedding night.
She waited for Felix, but she had something difficult to tell him tonight, and so she felt none of the usual excitement as he appeared in the chapel doorway.