The Winter King
Page 155
Khamsin drew back, offended by both the manner and implication of Galacia’s question. “I thought we’d gotten past all this. I’m not a spy.”
“That’s not what I asked. I asked where your loyalties lie.”
“I am Wynter’s wife.”
“Unwillingly wed,” Valik pointed out.
She speared him with a sharp glance. “Perhaps at first,” she conceded. “But no longer.”
“And if you had to choose between Summerlea and Wintercraig?” Galacia asked. “Between Winterfolk and your family?”
Khamsin wet her lips. Unease curled in her belly. “The eagle that flew in this morning. What news did he bring?”
“Answer the question,” Valik snapped.
“I already have,” Kham snapped back. The repeated demands to prove her loyalty and devotion to Wynter had grown beyond wearisome. “Time and time again.”
“Then once more won’t hurt, will it?”
“Oh, for Halla’s sake!” Khamsin cried. “This is my home now! More of a home than Summerlea ever was. Is that what you wanted to hear? That my life there was so pathetic, my existence so miserable, that I am happier here—even living under a constant cloud of suspicion and doubt—than I ever was there?”
“And if you must choose, between your family and Wynter,” Galacia prodded, “who would you choose?”
“Wynter, damn you! I would choose Wynter!”
“Why?”
Kham’s knuckles went white. The words welled up in her throat. They spat from her lips in a fury, each word clear and distinct, no longer bound in silence as they had been in her dreams.
“Because I love him!”
Galacia bowed her head and slowly relaxed her fierce grip on Kham’s shoulders. “Thank you. I told Valik as much, but we both needed to hear you say it.”
Kham spun around and clasped shaking hands across her chest. She loved him. And she’d revealed that vulnerability out loud. To Galacia and Valik.
She swallowed hard and rasped, “What news did the eagle bring?”
“Our defenses in Summerlea have been defeated. Wintercraig is next.”
Kham’s breath caught in her throat. She spun back around. “Tell me.”
Quickly, Galacia relayed the grim news. Leirik’s defenses along the west coast of Summerlea had been overrun by the Calbernans. Aware of Wynter’s illness and desperate to delay the invaders to buy time for his king’s recovery, Leirik had emptied Vera Sola, leading all but a few hundred of the Wintermen under his command to confront the Calbernan army. But no sooner had Leirik emptied the city of defenders than King Verdan, General Furze, and what remained of the former army of Summerlea had retaken Vera Sola. From there, Verdan’s army marched north to join the Calbernans and a force of mercenaries. Leirik and his men put up a strong fight, but cut off from supplies, flanked on two sides and vastly outnumbered, they had been defeated.
“The invaders are even now sailing up the coast,” Galacia concluded. “We believe they mean to take Gildenheim.”
“What can be done?”
“Very little. Without Wynter and his Ice Gaze, there aren’t enough soldiers left to push back a force so large. A contingent of men ride out within the hour to sound the Valkyr’s horn in Gildenheim to summon to service every man, woman, and child old enough to hold a spear.”
“Women and children? Against the armies of Calberna and Summerlea? Are you mad? They’ll be slaughtered!”
“Better an honorable death in battle than life in slavery.”
Khamsin gave a choked laugh, recalling the day she had spoken almost the exact same words to Tildy. That day now seemed a lifetime ago. The Khamsin who’d so passionately spat her defiance was practically a stranger to the Khamsin who now stood before Galacia Frey.
“I once believed the same as you do,” she admitted. “I would gladly have died fighting rather than surrender Summerlea to your people. But if I had, I never would have known what it was to marry, to love. To be happy. Surely even the smallest measure of hope is better than the certainty of death?”
“You have suffered your father’s mercy all your life.” Galacia’s gaze flicked to the imprint of the Summer King’s signet burned into Kham’s cheek. “Would you really wish that on anyone else?”
“That’s different. He hates me. He blames me for my mother’s death. He always has.”
“And you’re his own kin. What do you think he will do to Wynter? To me? To Valik? To the child you’re carrying in your womb? King Verdan has been trying to bleed Wintercraig dry and starve its people into submission since the day Wynter ascended the throne. What do you think he’ll do to us once we have no defenses?”
Kham dropped her gaze, unable to argue the point. “If you truly believe sending all of Wintercraig into battle is the right course of action, then why are we standing here? What do you need me for?”
Galacia hesitated, then admitted, “When the men ride to Gildenheim to sound the Valkyr’s horn, we want you to go with them.”
She glanced between Laci and Valik. “I’m not leaving Wynter.”
“You must. He’s in no shape to fight the armies assembled against us. Even if he were well, you saw for yourself how close he is to losing his battle with the Ice Heart. We dare not let him use his Gaze again, but without it, we stand no chance of defeating the invaders.”
“That’s not what I asked. I asked where your loyalties lie.”
“I am Wynter’s wife.”
“Unwillingly wed,” Valik pointed out.
She speared him with a sharp glance. “Perhaps at first,” she conceded. “But no longer.”
“And if you had to choose between Summerlea and Wintercraig?” Galacia asked. “Between Winterfolk and your family?”
Khamsin wet her lips. Unease curled in her belly. “The eagle that flew in this morning. What news did he bring?”
“Answer the question,” Valik snapped.
“I already have,” Kham snapped back. The repeated demands to prove her loyalty and devotion to Wynter had grown beyond wearisome. “Time and time again.”
“Then once more won’t hurt, will it?”
“Oh, for Halla’s sake!” Khamsin cried. “This is my home now! More of a home than Summerlea ever was. Is that what you wanted to hear? That my life there was so pathetic, my existence so miserable, that I am happier here—even living under a constant cloud of suspicion and doubt—than I ever was there?”
“And if you must choose, between your family and Wynter,” Galacia prodded, “who would you choose?”
“Wynter, damn you! I would choose Wynter!”
“Why?”
Kham’s knuckles went white. The words welled up in her throat. They spat from her lips in a fury, each word clear and distinct, no longer bound in silence as they had been in her dreams.
“Because I love him!”
Galacia bowed her head and slowly relaxed her fierce grip on Kham’s shoulders. “Thank you. I told Valik as much, but we both needed to hear you say it.”
Kham spun around and clasped shaking hands across her chest. She loved him. And she’d revealed that vulnerability out loud. To Galacia and Valik.
She swallowed hard and rasped, “What news did the eagle bring?”
“Our defenses in Summerlea have been defeated. Wintercraig is next.”
Kham’s breath caught in her throat. She spun back around. “Tell me.”
Quickly, Galacia relayed the grim news. Leirik’s defenses along the west coast of Summerlea had been overrun by the Calbernans. Aware of Wynter’s illness and desperate to delay the invaders to buy time for his king’s recovery, Leirik had emptied Vera Sola, leading all but a few hundred of the Wintermen under his command to confront the Calbernan army. But no sooner had Leirik emptied the city of defenders than King Verdan, General Furze, and what remained of the former army of Summerlea had retaken Vera Sola. From there, Verdan’s army marched north to join the Calbernans and a force of mercenaries. Leirik and his men put up a strong fight, but cut off from supplies, flanked on two sides and vastly outnumbered, they had been defeated.
“The invaders are even now sailing up the coast,” Galacia concluded. “We believe they mean to take Gildenheim.”
“What can be done?”
“Very little. Without Wynter and his Ice Gaze, there aren’t enough soldiers left to push back a force so large. A contingent of men ride out within the hour to sound the Valkyr’s horn in Gildenheim to summon to service every man, woman, and child old enough to hold a spear.”
“Women and children? Against the armies of Calberna and Summerlea? Are you mad? They’ll be slaughtered!”
“Better an honorable death in battle than life in slavery.”
Khamsin gave a choked laugh, recalling the day she had spoken almost the exact same words to Tildy. That day now seemed a lifetime ago. The Khamsin who’d so passionately spat her defiance was practically a stranger to the Khamsin who now stood before Galacia Frey.
“I once believed the same as you do,” she admitted. “I would gladly have died fighting rather than surrender Summerlea to your people. But if I had, I never would have known what it was to marry, to love. To be happy. Surely even the smallest measure of hope is better than the certainty of death?”
“You have suffered your father’s mercy all your life.” Galacia’s gaze flicked to the imprint of the Summer King’s signet burned into Kham’s cheek. “Would you really wish that on anyone else?”
“That’s different. He hates me. He blames me for my mother’s death. He always has.”
“And you’re his own kin. What do you think he will do to Wynter? To me? To Valik? To the child you’re carrying in your womb? King Verdan has been trying to bleed Wintercraig dry and starve its people into submission since the day Wynter ascended the throne. What do you think he’ll do to us once we have no defenses?”
Kham dropped her gaze, unable to argue the point. “If you truly believe sending all of Wintercraig into battle is the right course of action, then why are we standing here? What do you need me for?”
Galacia hesitated, then admitted, “When the men ride to Gildenheim to sound the Valkyr’s horn, we want you to go with them.”
She glanced between Laci and Valik. “I’m not leaving Wynter.”
“You must. He’s in no shape to fight the armies assembled against us. Even if he were well, you saw for yourself how close he is to losing his battle with the Ice Heart. We dare not let him use his Gaze again, but without it, we stand no chance of defeating the invaders.”
