The palace’s outer walls gave us a view of the houses of the city, half-timber structures lined with rubble fill and ice. Their roofs puffed woodsmoke and slanted to keep the snow from piling too high and heavy. Far beyond, the city walls rose, cutting across the lake and veering up into the mountains. Our border faded somewhere in the peaks beyond, but no one had ever invaded from that direction. Our enemies always came from the plains on the other side of the lake. Just as they did now.
A long, dark smudge wound toward the moat. Thousands upon thousands of men trudged toward us, lining up when they reached the moat’s edge. I had never been so glad for the waters, wide and dark, and the ice walls that protected us. They came with horses, they came with tents, they came with cannons and turtles and war machines—
“Can we consider this an act of aggression yet?” I said.
“Why don’t you ask him?” Eirhan turned, and behind his furred bulk I saw another shape, standing at the end of the walk, whose bright red coat seemed garish against the blue-white of the city. Sigis.
I swallowed and moved forward. Eirhan put a warning hand on my arm. “Your Grace cannot make an enemy of this man.”
“I know,” I said.
Drysiak had been a rotten empire when I was younger, riddled with rebellions and fraudulent bureaucrats, hamstrung by weak leadership. Father had predicted its fall in ten years and had accordingly refused when Sigis offered to marry one of the daughters of Kylma Above. Then Sigis took his father’s Drysian throne through bloodshed, and now he went to war with a new kingdom every year—and he won.
Sigis had never been small, but with several layers of clothing and several years of growth, he was truly a bear today. His broad shoulders stretched proud and branched into arms like tree trunks. His face screamed strong, from his straight nose to the thick blond beard on his chin. His hard eyes fixed on me as I approached, and his smile didn’t reach them. “Finest army in the North,” he said.
“And what is it doing here?” I asked, focusing on the leaping wolf stitched across his chest. “Is it a wedding present?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why, are you getting married?”
I blushed. “So you didn’t bring it for Lyosha’s brideshow?”
“Ekata.” His voice was too warm, too familiar. “Don’t be absurd. My army was on campaign not far away, so I sent a message. Your ministers are about to revolt, and I thought you’d appreciate some help. I have experience keeping bureaucrats in line.”
On campaign nearby, my freezing behind. This was far too convenient to be a matter of coincidence. But did that mean Sigis knew my family would fall ill, as I’d guessed? Or had he come to Kylma to arrange the illness?
“So your army will fire cannonballs at the city walls until Reko agrees not to open a parliament?”
“Don’t worry about the cannons,” Sigis said, taking my arm. My muscles tensed. “I only use them on my enemies.” He moved closer to the wall, and my feet dug into the ice instinctively. The edge of the wall wasn’t a place I liked to go, not since Velosha had pushed Pauno off for decapitating her favorite doll. Sigis didn’t seem to notice. “But what would you say to a little joining of power? Your ministers will bow to the one who has the most, after all. If we’re together, no one will oppose you.” He nudged me with his hip, making me stumble, and caught me by our linked arms. When I glared up at him, he winked.
“Careful,” he purred.
Was he flirting with me?
Oh no.
He was flirting with me.
I wrenched my arm free and craned my head, looking for Eirhan.
“I’m a powerful friend, Ekata.” Sigis moved to cut me off from my guard, my maid, and my prime minister. “My support means a lot, and I’m willing to put it behind you.”
“In return for what?” I asked through a dry mouth.
“Nothing you won’t have to do anyway,” he said, looping his arm through mine once again and turning me back toward the palace. “And we already know each other so well, don’t we?”
Sigis paraded me through my own halls, with Eirhan, Aino, and Viljo trailing behind like useless ducklings. The halls were filled with noise like the constant lapping of lake water against the sides of the moat. Yet everyone from minister to servant fell silent when they saw me. And they stared. Sigis all but pinned me to his side, loudly greeting everyone he recognized as we passed. He wanted us to be seen together.
“Annika,” he boomed at my minister of agriculture. Minister Annika bowed, flushing. Even when they stood straight, they only came up to my nose, and as they greeted Sigis, they studiously refused to meet my eyes. “I have an answer for your agricultural problems.”
The flush spread to their ears. They tucked a brown curl back into their braid, still ignoring me. “I look forward to hearing it, Your Majesty,” they replied in a light, high voice.
He kissed their hand. Don’t make a disgusted noise. Then he steered me away.
Sigis stopped us outside the Rose Room and ordered Aino to get us a pot of coffee. Her nostrils flared in indignation. But Eirhan put a hand on her arm, and she left without complaining.
The Rose Room had been decorated by someone who evidently thought we had to remind our guests what country they were visiting. The rose of our family was evident everywhere: in the upholstery of the couch and chairs, carved into the table, painted on the tiles of the fireplace. Winter roses covered the walls, studded with cold thorns and perfect blooms. They congregated in the corners and twined over the fireplace, where they never melted, no matter how high a fire burned. They were our crest; they were our family. Cold and brittle and untouchable.
They were half open now, the center buds pushing out with some kind of urgency, turning translucent around the edges of each petal. Less open than they’d been this morning, though.
It’s just superstition, I told myself. There’s nothing to the stories.
Sigis took me to the couch, letting his fingers run from my elbow down my forearm, until he held my palm in his unrelenting grip. He pressed his mouth to my glove, and I felt the pressure on my skin beneath. I resisted the urge to tug my hand away and rub off the shine of his spit.
“You look tired, poor Ekata,” Sigis said. I found myself being gently and inexorably pushed down until my knees buckled and I fell onto the silk. “Ruling isn’t easy, and I know it’s a burden you never wanted.”
I tried to think how Father would handle the situation, but he’d never be faced with a flirting Sigis in the first place. The thought of Sigis trying to win my father’s hand through suggestive flattery nearly made me giggle hysterically.
Sigis still held my hand. I took a deep breath to regain control. “I’m only provisional grand duke,” I said. “It hasn’t even been a day.”
“I’ve seen coups take place in less time.”
I was starting to see why the duke Below wanted me to solidify my place.
I finally freed my hand from Sigis’s grasp. He compensated by scooting closer, touching his knee to mine. I fought the urge to leap up. He’s doing this on purpose. Why was Eirhan ignoring us? I folded my hands in front of me so that Sigis couldn’t see them shake. My thumb found the burning space he’d kissed and rubbed over it. Sigis leaned forward. My heart spiked. I’d met wolves in the mountains with Farhod, so why couldn’t I keep my head around this lumbering creature?