Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar Book 2)

Iclutched a cup of cold tea in my gloved hands as I walked through the hall. By my side, Aeron exhaled deeply, and a cloud of frozen breath puffed around his head. He leaned closer to me, whispering, “I tried to ask about fixing Torin’s throne. Moria seemed remarkably uninterested in making that happen.”

“There’s something very wrong with her,” I said to Aeron through clenched teeth.

We walked into the throne room, my heart hammering. He knew how nervous I was about finding out what had happened to Ava, so he’d made me a cup of tea out of some kind of soporific herbs. It had gone cold almost immediately.

The Seelie throng packed the hall from one corner to another, every aisle and alcove full of fae waiting to learn what had happened to their king. The room hummed with anger and tension, a rising vibration of desperation. It was the nervous energy of a panicked and hungry mob, and it set my teeth on edge.

Until I’d read the letter yesterday, it hadn’t occurred to me that people would blame Torin for going missing. But of course they did. It was his job to take care of them, and he wasn’t showing up. In their time of greatest need, he’d gone missing. Whether he had a good reason didn’t matter—in Seelie, a king must be strong and able to protect his people. A king had to defend his crown from all threats, or he wasn’t fit to rule.

Right now, I didn’t care if people thought I was a rude human who’d overstayed her welcome. Ava was my best friend, and I wanted to hear what was going on. So I pushed through the throng to get closer to the front, ignoring their grumbles.

I made my way through the crowd and spied the king’s broken throne. Ice encased the queen’s throne and what was left of Torin’s, and icicles hung from the stone arches above.

I glanced at Aeron. His mouth was pressed into a tight line. I sensed he was as nervous as I was, but he didn’t want to admit it.

At last, Orla pushed through a wooden door behind the thrones and shuffled onto the icy dais with Moria close behind her.

The two of them could not look more different, and it was immediately clear who was actually in charge. Orla looked frail, shaking in a black fur coat. She seemed even smaller than she had the last time I’d seen her, like the stress of all of this was physically diminishing her.

Moria, on the other hand, seemed almost untouched by the cold. She wore a deep red silk dress that showed off her porcelain cleavage. She wore long black gloves, and her lips were painted a deep red. Her burgundy hair was swept up on her head, and a cloak in a matching color covered her shoulders.

She lifted her chin, staring out at the crowd. “Thank you all for joining us in our time of tragedy. We are the Seelie realm, and our people have ruled this land for thousands of years. During times when our kings and queens have not been able to lead, we have always joined together, with the guidance of the kingdom’s princesses and petty kings.”

Orla lifted her face, her pale eyes not quite meeting the crowd. “Modron is now on her way, and she will help us learn the truth.” Her voice sounded thin and reedy. “While we await her arrival, Moria thought we should hear from you all. Please tell us what you are facing now as the frost takes over our kingdom.”

The room was quiet, the silence punctuated only by a few coughs and chattering teeth.

After a minute, someone from the back shouted, “I found my mother lying on the floor in her house. Her skin had turned black with frostbite.”

“My babies won’t stop coughing, and I can’t keep the house warm enough,” a woman called out. “We need someone to sit on the throne. I’ll bloody do it if no one else is willing. Seriously. Can I do it?”

“My children are starving,” barked a brawny man. “How long do you expect this rationing to go on? We’ve never had to ration before. And pardon my expression, but where the fuck is the king when we need him? Maybe he could come here and tell my children to their faces why they can only have one meal a day.”

“Get someone on the throne!” A woman’s shriek echoed off the high, vaulted stones. “If our king can’t look after us, he’s not our king.”

Technically, wasn’t this treason? Torin was still king, and calling for his replacement should have been a serious crime. But he wasn’t here, was he?

Moria opened her arms. “Thank you, Seelie friends. We will face this together. In a few days when Modron arrives, we will get answers from her and develop a plan.”

Orla looked at her with a furrowed brow. She seemed uncertain, but she wasn’t speaking up.

Moria gestured to her. “Princess Orla and I would like to emphasize once again that the cause of all of the misery and tragedy that has befallen us is the demons and the demons alone. I know you are frustrated with King Torin, but it was the demons who cursed Orla and killed her parents. It was they who cursed our kingdom. They are the reason your children are starving. They are the reason your parents are freezing to death on cold hearthstones. Please save your wrath for them. The demons are why you’ve had to kill your livestock until there’s nearly nothing left, and why your children grow weak instead of strong. We have always feared them. We don’t even call them by their true name, but we were strong once, and maybe it is the demons who should fear us. Maybe we should not be so afraid to call them by their names, because what is so great and terrifying about being an Unseelie?” Venom dripped from her tone.

A murmur of assent rippled through the crowd. As I looked around the hall, the crowd seemed completely enraptured.

Moria raised her hand. “My sister, Milisandia, always said it was the Unseelie who should fear us,” she went on, pacing over the icy dais. “Before she went missing, she warned me that the day would come when we would need to fight them. She always said we must make war on the Unseelie and their treasonous allies within our court. They attacked our royal family, cursing them all. They have cursed our kingdom for centuries, saddling us with famine, with cold. So do not blame King Torin when you can see your children’s ribs and their gaunt cheeks. He may not be here, but he is not an Unseelie, is he? He doesn’t love them, does he? He would not leave us here to die in a famine unless he had a very good reason. And we must stand together against our ancient enemies.”

Something wasn’t adding up about her speech. On the surface, it seemed like she was trying to protect the king from their anger at his absence, to give them another scapegoat. And the people you called demons for the past several hundred years were a perfect scapegoat.

Except I happened to know that she hated Torin.

Why would she want to protect the man she accused of murdering her sister?