Page 21 of Omen of ice
He’s still trying to get a reaction. Probably wants me pounding on his door and screaming bloody murder ashehad. Maybe he wants to watch as I struggle to somehow dig the space out, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. I’m better than that. More disciplined. I sink onto the dry cot and pull my tunic tighter. I don’t know if this is retaliation for me locking him in his room or for the fact that I refuse to give him my name. For all I know, this is another attempt to convince me to leave. Either way, I get the feeling Valen isn’t used to hearing the word “no.”
I’m here to protect him, and nothing can change that. But Valen needs to learn a lesson. You can’t bully an Aphelian into getting what you want.
8
Valen
I hear the Aphelian in the hall and pull open my door. I can see a puddle seeping out from her room. “Have a good sleep?”
She steps past me, into the room. “Of course. You?”
“Like a dry, toasty log.”
“Good. I’m glad.” She smiles, giving no indication that she’s angry about the stunt I pulled.
Part of me is disappointed when the Aphelian doesn’t offer even the smallest hint of a reaction. What I did was childish, but the trick worked with many caretakers when I was young. Liani doted on me night and day, when possible, but she had duties to tend to—many that took her away from the estate. I don’t know what they were. I never asked. But before Mika showed up, my aunt enlisted the services of many nannies. I got rid of each and every one.
I was furious after we parted last night, and anger clouded my judgment. Guilt seeped in not long after, but the damage was already done. I lit a blazing fire in the room next to hers so that the heat would help melt the snow. I might not want her here, but there’s no true venom on my part. She’s an Aphelian, after all. She deserves my respect and reverence. Unfortunately, it’s too easy to forget who—what—she is. I’ve never met someone who held such mystery in their eyes, such fire in their demeanor. No one has haunted both my dreams and waking moments. This human—this woman—is supposed to be the safest soul for me to be around. If only the reverse could be said.
She shifts from foot to foot and clears her throat. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“I’m taking a ride out to the market on the edge of the Winter Lands. Have you been?” I stretch and flex, yawning loudly. Ideally, I’d go alone, but, like a fungus, she’s unyielding and invasive.
“Have I been to the market?” She blinks several times. “Of course not.”
“You’re in for a treat.” I hesitate. “Or maybe not. You don’t believe in having fun, do you?”
She grabs the cloak hanging on the back of my chair and throws it at me. “Is there a reason you need to go to the market?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“Isn’t there something you should be doing at the estate?”
“You haven’t been here long, so I’ll let you in on a little secret. I don’tdoanything around here. I drink, I brash, sometimes I drinkwhilebrashing…” I roll my eyes. “It gets a bit tedious.”
She studies me for a moment, and even though I was trying to catch her attention, now that I have it, I find the scrutiny unwelcome. There’s no judgment in her eyes, but there is…something. I can’t put a name to it. All I know is that it does odd things to my chest, and I don’t like it.
…
Mika and I used to come to the market once a week when I was a child. My first Aphelian was stern, but I figured out pretty quickly how to win her over. Orbik had forbidden the trips, but Mika managed to sneak me out. I found out later that was only because of Liani’s help—which didn’t surprise me.
I haven’t come here in several months, but the place doesn’t seem to have changed.
“This is how you want to spend the day?” The Aphelian looks around, cringing. Behind us, a Fae stumbles from the tavern, drunk, and proceeds to double over and vomit in the street. “Because I thought even you had some small semblance of standards…”
“Are you always this much of—”
“Valen?” a musical voice calls from the edge of the crowd. “Valen, is that you?” Kitara waves and approaches with an enthusiastic bounce.
“No wonder your uncle has safety concerns.” The Aphelian stiffens. “More fans?”
“As a matter of fact…”
Kitara reaches us and throws her arms around me, and I return the embrace. Briefly. “Kit, this is my Aphelian…Aphelian. Aphelian, this is Kitara, the daughter of the estate chef.”
She turns to my guard and bows. “It’s nice to see that they’re taking Valen’s safety seriously after everything that’s happened.”
“Why? What’s happened?” my guard asks.
