Jem

I glanced at the hearth, which had started to burn low, despite the plethora of coal. How long had it been? I’d have the next servant fetch more. I pointed at the fire. “Go, sit, there.”

“No!” He scrambled to his feet. Anger shredded through his fear, and he backed up until his shoulder hit the window pane. He hissed at the cold, turning his head to glare at it.

I pointed again. “Sit next to the fire.”

He didn’t move. “Where are my clothes?”

“With the servants, to dry.”

“How dare you—”

“How dare you!” I snapped back, standing. “If not for me, if not for what I can do, you would have died falling through the ice. Was it really worth it to escape me?”

“Falling…” His eyes glazed over, as if remembering. I very much doubted he did.

I strode up to him. “Yes, you would have died.” I punctuated the word with a jab at his chest.

His nostrils flared, his eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to retort, but I cut him off.

“So go. Sit. Next. To. The. Fire.”

He glared down at me, as if readying himself to demand who exactly I thought I was, giving him orders.

“Or is your life really worth so little you would throw it away to glare at me?”

His mouth worked, but I didn’t care. He wasn’t like me at all. His existence was crucial, not the other way around. He didn’t stare into oblivion, waiting and waiting for his final heartbeat.

“Go sit down.” I snapped my fingers and pointed to the hearth again.

Ilyas sneered, but did as I asked, slipping by me and grabbing one of the blankets to cover his body with. Oh, how the worm had turned, that Prince Heir Ilyas felt he must hide his nudity from a simple slave.

Or he was clever enough to cover himself to keep warm. I cursed myself, and perched on the window ledge while he tiptoed past the broken pig. I should have cleaned that up, and I really should fetch Ilyas food and water, but he must not be left alone. He’d already proven himself incredibly stupid and foolhardy.

And I’d proven myself more so. For so many years, my veins carried ice water instead of blood, my flesh like packed snow instead of meat. A few nights with Ilyas’ vulnerable body had thawed the glacier inside me. Only the Dark God could have such monstrous desires toward a helpless man. I lowered my eyes to the flagstones beneath my foot. Heat seeped in through my slipper.

No, the thawing had started long before Ilyas had fallen through the ice. The Nuriyite sun might have pounded heat into my skin, but kneeling in Ilyas’ harem, peeking through my white bangs to watch Ilyas saunter in, enjoying the life he’d been given instead of standing guard, waiting for it all to end, that had kindled desire in my core. A kindling neither of us could afford.

Ilyas muttered something under his breath, facing the fire.

I was ready to let it go, but I still asked, “What was that?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Yes, the cold can kill you.”

He turned back to give me a mutinous glare, his violet eyes shining. “I didn’t know the ice was there.”

I blinked. “I know.”

A question flittered across his expression before he squashed it down.

“It was an inlet,” I explained. “From the ocean. Shallow enough for it to freeze over. Which is why you must avoid open spaces. Here, it’s most likely a frozen lake ready to crack.”

As if Ilyas would need to know. Ilyas realised it too and snorted.

“So you finally decided to give me better quarters.” Ilyas turned back to the fire. “I give it a two out of ten. Barely better than the prison cell.”

Prison cell? Oh, I saw where he’d gone wrong. He assumed that like in Nuriya, we kept criminals imprisoned. Oh no, we wouldn’t waste food like that. It kept crime very low. “It’s my room.”

His shoulders tensed, as if I’d surprised him.

“You required more care.”

Ilyas remained very still.

I turned to look out the window, to look over the ocean, dark and mysterious and lifeless in the shadow of the city. In scrolls, I had seen illustrations of the icy banks teaming with sea lions and porpoises. Even in my childhood, I remembered the birds. But now, there was nothing. Just the water and the receding ice.

“You took care of me.”

I tensed and glanced back at him. He sat cross-legged, equally tense. I preferred his usual languid insouciance. “I did.”

Ilyas moved as if to ask a question, one he’d normally never ask to avoid tarnishing his reputation, but I interrupted.

“On Prince Hemi’s orders,” I told him.

He scoffed, then glared into the flames.

“He can’t afford to lose you.”

He opened his mouth to hurl an insult at me, or Prince Hemi, then closed it. He stood, and turned back to me, wearing his blanket like an elegant silk robe. “You will keep me here from now on.”

I raised my eyebrows. Oh, would I?

“Unless you have better accommodations. I wouldn’t mind displacing your Hemi.” At my glare, he laughed. “I’ll wear you down. You’ll see.”

“You will go back to the cellar.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You can’t tell the difference between a field and an inlet. I don’t care what you think.”

“Oh, a touch to you.” Before I asked, he added, “As in a point scored in a training duel. As in you think you’re clever because I made one small mistake, but you’re clearly wrong, since that’s all you have to grasp.”

“You’re returning to the cellar.” Where I could keep him properly contained, and keep myself properly distant.

“I’ve already proven I can escape the cell,” he said. “As you’ve already proven that you can prevent me from leaving with your rabbits, and even if I do, I’ll die once I pass the village gates.”

He did have a point. My snow demons would keep a close eye on him for me. “Lumi.”

“Speak trade language,” Ilyas said, exasperated. “I don’t speak whatever that grunting is.”

Only the shared language of the peninsula, handed down to us by the Dark God. “Lumi is where you are. The Kingdom of Lumi.”

“Oh.” But Ilyas wasn’t one to rest on his mistakes too long. I’m sure, somewhere in his mind, he’d automatically blamed me for the misunderstanding, if he cared at all. “Anyway, no matter how I treated you, you have to admit that your place in the harem was better than this. As your intended slave to sell, I deserve at least this much, don’t you think?”

I waited for him to continue on about how he didn’t actually care what I thought, but he remained silent, waiting for my answer. I exhaled. It would keep Ilyas nice and close, and out of Ambassador Dajana’s way. And Ilyas was correct. Even if he managed to escape, he wouldn’t survive two days in the wilderness.

But willingly trapping myself in the same overheated room as him? I’d barely survived my mutinous body as it was, and Ilyas had been unconscious then.

“I’m sure Prince Hemi would agree,” he added.

Why would he add that? I cupped the tattoo on the back of my neck, then nodded my agreement and was thanked with a smirk.

“Now, bring my breakfast. A real breakfast, mind, not that rock you tried to pass off on me earlier. Oh, and more fuel for the fire. It’s freezing in here.”