I roll my eyes. Zora can’t lie either, but she always finds a way of saying things that makes them sound different from how they actually occurred. “You forgot to mention that I was born first, while the sun was still down. You were too scared of the dark,” I say, and she still is. My sister hardly sleeps, so tortured she is by her frequent nightmares.
“Tell you what, Nox,” the queen says, her pale eyelashes fluttering, “how would you like to come stay with me?”
My heart skips, and my mind replays the invitation. Before my fumbling mouth can get the words out, Zora answers for me. “You mean at the palace? Of course we want to come stay with you. Right, Nox?”
Zora must be completely oblivious to the fact there’s a guard holding me still, because she bounds right up to us and shoves me in the arm.
My tongue is numb, but not from the cold.
“Nox,” Zora hisses.
“Right. Of course. It would be our honor,” I say, having to relearn how to talk before I get my reply past my lips.
But the queen doesn’t smile like I expect her to. Instead, her blue eyes flit back and forth between my sister and me, her whitewashed lips forming into a hard line that slits across her face. “I’m afraid I must not have been clear. There is only room in the royal household for a single apprentice.” Her gaze settles on me, even as Zora recoils.
An apprentice?
The single word sends flurries of excitement racing through my veins. The queen doesn’t just wish for me to stay the night at the palace. She wants to name me her apprentice. I’m not sure what all that entails, but I’m fairly certain it means access to the queen’s laboratories, as well as a heaping pile of gemstones in my future, at the very least.
“Him? Why do you want Nox?”
The queen purses her lips, her expression less than pleasant.
To be honest, I’m wondering the same thing. Most strangers fawn over my fair-haired sister. Where her cheeks are naturally sun-kissed with health, I’m fairly certain I could spend the summer in the Sahli and still be just as sallow. Where her blue eyes are bright and inviting, mine are the shade of the ice barring a frozen lake.
People find me eerie.
Of course, people find Zora eerie too, but only after they discover she’s my twin.
A twinge of delight trickles into my stomach.
The queen prefers me to my sister.
Zora crosses her arms, and based on her acrid expression, I figure the only thing keeping me from getting another helping of snow in my mouth is the guard at my back.
“Mama and Papa won’t stand for it,” she says, and then she takes off, sprinting up and hill and disappearing from view.
“She’s just jealous,” I tell the queen, nervous now that she’ll take my sister’s assumptions seriously. “Mama and Papa will be honored.”
That lovely smile returns to the queen’s pretty face, and the knot in my chest loosens.
At the queen’s command, the guard helps me into the carriage. It makes me nervous to sit, because the cushions are white as freshly shorn wool, and my britches are muddied from wrestling Zora in the snow.
The queen must sense my hesitation because she gestures toward the seat across from her and her husband. “It’s been a long while since I’ve had the pleasure of cleaning up a child’s mess.”
That gives me the confidence I need to take my seat, though my mind latches onto her words. I don’t remember my parents saying anything about the queen having a child. But perhaps if her child is dead, she might not wish to speak any more on the topic.
With a whistle, the king signals the driver and the horses launch into motion. Except instead of continuing on their route, they turn around.
“Oh, wait. My parents live that way.” I gesture toward the west, which we are leaving behind in the dust.
The queen’s pale brow creases. “But dear. I thought you said you wished to return to the castle with us.”
The king frowns in unison, and I’m beginning to wonder if he simply mirrors everything his wife does.
I stumble over my words, frantic now that the queen has misunderstood. “No, of course I want to come stay with you. But my parents will worry when I haven’t returned. And won’t…won’t I need a change of clothes?”
The question feels silly rolling off my tongue. Of course, the king and queen will have a change of clothes for me to wear. They are the king and queen, after all.
“You needn’t worry about clothes, child. As for your parents, I imagine your sister will inform them of the situation. Though if you desire, I’d be more than happy to send Cochran to relay the message.”
Figuring Cochran is the name of the guard whose fingers have already left bruises, I’m more than happy with the idea of not having to ride back with him to the palace.
That he’ll have to make the trek in the snow on foot is even better.
I nod, and the queen turns to the guard. “Find the boy’s parents and inform them that the queen has chosen him as her ward. Assure them that they will be compensated generously from the royal treasury so they might hire a farmhand in his place.”
A farmhand? “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I say. “My parents give me three days off every week, and I’ll surely be back to the farm by the time they need me to feed the alpacas.” I’m not sure what the typical schedule of an apprentice is like, but I don’t see why I wouldn’t be able to visit my parents on the days I’m not training.
Cochran grunts and, as if he didn’t hear me, hops out of the carriage and trudges off in the opposite direction.
I turn back to the king and queen, guilt twisting my stomach to bits. “You really don’t have to pay them. I’ll work extra hard to make it up to them on my days off.” But now that I think of it, perhaps I have overcommitted my time. Maybe being an apprentice will be too demanding for me to provide the help my family needs from me.
The queen leans forward, cupping my cheeks in her palm. Her fingers are colder than I expect, even though they’re gloved in white leather.
I decide then that I don’t like it when she touches me, but I figure it’s bad manners to tell the queen that.
“I think I’d like to go back home, after all,” I whisper through chattering teeth.
