29

A Change in the Routine

Sleep didn't take me until the early hours of the morning. Fear of my thoughts blurring into night terrors kept me pacing long after Betina and I conversed. Seeing her last night had me realizing I've been slacking off, reading the winter and spring away by learning about my magic, yes, but not pushing for training.

Betina agreed to help investigate my family's dealings to see if there were any answers back home. She was grateful to have something to do aside from helping manage my correspondence with Niko while working.

Even with that relief and comfort, I can't stop worrying I am behind—that I am doing something wrong.

A dull ache pulsates down my neck anytime I maneuver my head while roaming through my wardrobe. With my mind feeling frazzled, wearing a dress rather than the set of trousers lying across the chaise by my bed could lift my spirits.

Swiping backward through each gown, indecisiveness weighs in over the colors and fabrics. I settle for a pale blue cotton dress. It is loosely fitted and perfect for my morning trip to the kitchens to see Cordelia and Ophelia.

The thought of seeing their loving faces makes me smile, knowing they will provide anything my heart desires. The excitement of food has me rushing to dress, quickly finger combing my hair into a long plait drifting down the side of my head.

Barefooted, I pounce around my chambers, searching for slippers that will match my gown instead of the boots I've worn. I give my appearance a once-over in the vanity as I slip on my shoes, making sure the gown is loose around my waist to conceal all the food I've consumed that goes straight to my stomach and hips.

Ascending the stairs, I salivate with each step that guides me toward the kitchen. My excitement is short-lived as the doorway of the kitchens comes into view when I hear footsteps. The scent of cologne and leather fills the hallway, and the hair on the nape of my neck rises.

I hurry toward my friends, hopeful I can avoid a one-on-one with Jerrick.

As I enter the kitchen, I am met with silence as the two cooks I've come to know enjoy their peaceful work of preparing well-seasoned dishes for the castle.

"Your Majesty!" Cordelia beams when she sees me, lowering into a small curtsy. I am surprised by her sudden formality but bristle when she adds, "My king."

A knife clatters against Ophelia's workstation as she turns faster than I think she anticipated, almost losing her balance as she slumps into a curtsy.

I don't move to look behind me, aware of Jerrick's body heat surrounding me. I hate being caught off guard, especially in the mornings when I've had little sleep.

Jerrick's footsteps inch closer to me, and I ignore his advancing presence by walking farther into the kitchen, past the two stone hearths to the small table at the far right side of the room.

The dark oak table sits low to the ground with matching benches pushed in to keep the space tidy.

Pulling out a bench to sit quietly, I try to follow the routine I've adopted during my time here in Palaena, hopeful to ease some of the anxiety for Ophelia and Cordelia about Jerrick's presence.

Reaching for food on the table, I take in the various types of bread, cheeses, and wines, putting most of my efforts into sifting through the loaves closest to me, wanting to find the freshest slice first.

Ophelia stands closer to Cordelia, brushing Cordelia's long curly blonde locks away from her face, protectively wrapping an arm around her.

Cordelia looks up at Ophelia with mystery playing along her lips, her hands fidgeting with nervousness.

But Jerrick joins me, pulling out the bench and folding his hands, his stare melting into the top of my head. His inhalation has me scrambling for words to keep calm under his gaze.

I am not late in meeting him in the library, so I cannot understand why he is joining me in the kitchen. Still, I keep my shoulders squared, wondering if he wanted extra food.

Yet I'm too shy to ask, opting to speak to my friends instead.

"What are you planning for supper tonight, Ophelia?" I pick up loaves and rolls, testing each one for warmth to choose the freshest for myself to enjoy.

There is a brief pause between the four of us when a low grunt comes from the two women followed shortly after by a stammering Ophelia. "R-Roasted venison and onion soup."

I toss a few rolls between my hands that have similar heat levels, and I decide to eat both.

"Y-Your Majesty," Ophelia's light voice chimes again.

I tense as my title drops from a friend's lips, and I can't stop the scowl forming along my features, wishing they were not intimidated by Jerrick.

He wears his mask as king around most staff and people, letting their own horrendous gossip scare them and keep them in line. But I wish there could be a day when we both didn't have to feel the need to do that.

I reach for a butter knife and cut a sliver of cheese from the block.

"Would you like us to set some food in the main dining room, Your Majesty?"

Cordelia's frail voice fills the void.

Again, the mention of my title.

I stop midway through my routine to look at Cordelia and Ophelia, hoping I can ease their trepidation. "No, I only want to indulge first before making a tray for the library."

I grab a roll and add the slice of cheese. Bringing the food to my mouth, the smells surround my nose. I moan contentedly and close my eyes as I chew the soft bread paired with cheese.

The tastes explode in my mouth, the yeast, spices, and cheese all blending together to send my taste buds into a frenzy.

When my eyes do open, Jerrick's now-heated glare meets them.

I swallow. "Exceptional as always, my friends," I say brightly, taking another bite of my food.

They clasp their hands in a small cheer before Jerrick whirls on them, ceasing their joy. The women lower into another curtsy and return to their workstations.

My jaw slows from their reactions to Jerrick, worried I've altered their mood and working conditions. Rising from the table, I brush the wrinkles from my dress and push in the bench, tidying any messes I created.

Jerrick mirrors my movements, slow but sure to follow me.

I know we will be conversing, but my anxiety about him surprising me this morning in the middle of my routine throws me off balance to the point where I leave for the library without a food tray.

I beam to the women behind me, losing the scent of food as I step farther into the castle's hallway. "Thank you again!"

I take the final bites of my roll to keep my anxiety at bay and allow my thoughts to catch up for when Jerrick and I are alone.

The windows to the right of me have the curtains tied off to the sides, allowing the sun's rays to lighten the halls. Every other one I pass shows the varying amounts of ivy growing up the exterior walls, joined with climbing roses in blues, pinks, reds, and violets.

I make a mental note to visit the courtyards soon to pick a few flowers to enjoy prior to the summer heat creeping in and forcing the outdoors to be unbearable.

I continue through the castle, heading toward the library.

A few staff members pass, carrying bed sheets, candles, and buckets to various levels of the castle. I greet each of them with kindness, regardless of the man lurking behind me, preventing the staff from lingering too long.

I glance to Jerrick matching my strides, observing his strong jawline with a light scruff. Jerrick's black hair is tied back, with a few strands escaping his knotted bun, framing his high cheekbones. He remains silent as we turn down a final well-lit hallway.

I miss the floor's transition from stone to carpeted rug, and my balance shifts.

Jerrick grabs me, pulling me to his hard, leather-clad chest. The hand around my side draws me closer, and our bodies touching as Jerrick's low huff sends shivers down the length of my back.

"Are you alright?" he asks softly.

His proximity unsettles my nerves even as I reply, "Yes, sorry about that. I'm just tired, but I know we have a lot to read today."

He squeezes my side as a handsome grin graces his features. "Well, I actually canceled our plans for today."

I connect the dots for his presence so early in the morning. My throat bobs as I try to understand the motive behind the changed plans.

"But Jonas and I were supposed to hash out ideas for the celebration while you and I were reading. He practically begged me days ago for another meeting."

Jerrick loosens his grip around my waist, dropping his hands to his sides. "As he is my royal advisor, it was easy to give him a reason for the plans I made today."

I cross my arms, skeptical of change. "What plans did you make for us today?"

He mimics my stance, as if he is gearing up for my rebuttal, but I have yet to hear this so-called plan. That damned dimple appears, and my attention darts to it.

Jerrick notices, and it lingers. "You and I are going to head into town to meet the people and some vendors we are hiring for the celebrations," he says, face remaining bright as if our conversation is something he enjoys.

A flicker of excitement raises my curiosity at the prospect of going to the village, but—

Realization has me looking down at my dress.

They, too, will view me as the Snow Queen. The indifferent mask I wear around townsfolk requires preparation, and the drastic change of my day unsettles me.

Spontaneous trips like this don't end well. For anyone.

If I'm going to be scrutinized, the least I can do is look presentable. I swallow thickly while tugging my dress into proper placement. Maybe I should change.

I unfold my arms, smoothing the fabric of my dress and touching my hair, only to have Jerrick cover my hand.

"You don't need a fancy dress to meet them," he assures.

Heat floods my cheeks as his hand runs through the ends of my plait, moving it behind my shoulders.

But he doesn't let go when it is along my spine. Instead, his hold tightens, tugging my hair.

My scalp aches, and the shimmer of warmth twinkling in his gaze has me clenching my thighs.

"You are beautiful as you are," he whispers softly along the bridge of my nose, withdrawing to offer me his hand.

My breath stutters, the man I met in Axidoria making an appearance. This is the first compliment he's given me since my arrival in Palaena, and it sparks heat in my stomach.

I take his hand, craving the luxurious cologne and whiskey to surround me a little while longer.

His hand encompasses mine, squeezing it once and leading me through our home to meet our people as a united front. Jerrick's touch sets my skin ablaze, the heat of him buzzing up and down my arm as he guides me to the stables.

I look for a carriage. Instead, the stable boys bring two horses, strap saddles around them, and fasten the buckles, giving each a small tug as a final check.

I recognize the steed to the right, its black coat different from the spotted coat of the creature adjacent to it.

"Um…" I pause, a phantom pain in my shoulder sending memories flooding to the surface of the last time I was around horses.

Jerrick releases my hand as he approaches the steed, combing its mane and patting it gently. I watch the interaction, completely different from when Jerrick and I rode through Biala Forest with me inching toward death.

"I-I-I don't know how to ride a horse," I stutter, admitting a weakness versus the trauma from my injury.

Yet the memory swirls and thrashes against me as I fight to keep my true hesitation from being voiced.

I turn back to the castle, its stone walls and the solid structure providing me more safety than sitting atop a steed. Lifting my skirt, I allow my feet the freedom to escape into the courtyard, deciding today is the day I should go enjoy the roses.

"Wait!" Jerrick calls back, but I am already increasing my pace.

Crossing through shrubbery, various shades of green foliage surround the courtyard, and I release a breath when a bench comes into view.

I sit against its cold, solid surface, trusting it is indeed a seat I can rest on without the fear of falling. Brushing a hand across my forehead, I wipe the tinge of sweat along the side of my brow before I hunch forward.

My magic ignites in a flurry, winter's kiss caressing my blood and making my breath visible.

Footsteps approach, and the easily recognizable stained boots come into view. The soil sinks in from the weight of the man lowering to a knee in front of me.

"Remember your breathing," Jerrick gently instructs as frost swirls along my skin.

But the possibilities of falling, being scolded, and reliving what happened in Biala Forest make focusing on only my breathing unbearable.

My pulse quickens as I grip the bench, shaking my head, knowing there is too much happening at once.

"I-I can't," I pant, unable to focus. "Please, just go."

I want to prevent him from being harmed and also save myself from showing more vulnerabilities around him. Those wants strum a chord against my rib cage, my powers flaring in response to the idea of my fears coming to pass.

The reminder of damnation I bring to everything and everyone thrums thick in my blood, and eternal loneliness dances in the back of my mind at Niko's past words.

You aren't going to find a husband if you keep acting like this!

I'm not going to have anyone if they truly saw the monster underneath.

Dread holds my lungs in a tight grip, keeping air out of reach.

My disarraying thoughts drift farther from my past injury and fear of falling, pulling every fear I've tucked deep in the back of my mind to the surface, twirling and taunting it and drawing me further into myself.

Jerrick rests a hand on my knee, his steady voice soothing my panic. "I've got you, I'm here."

His touch alerts my magic. The frosted chill creeps across my skin, my power meeting his warmth to help lower my temperature and slow down my heartbeat.

"Breathe," he says softly, his hand rubbing small circles.

I close my eyes, focusing on his touch.

I'm not upset about Jerrick using his magic on me. In fact, I find a small bit of gratitude through my panic, embarrassment weighing heavily over how close I was to an anxiety attack in front of Jerrick and the stable boys.

Jerrick's magic courses through me, quieting my own and granting me a chance to even my breathing without the stress of calming my gifts. When his power pulls away, I can't help but find relief in his aid.

"Th-Thank you. I just—I need a few minutes," I force out through shallow breaths, addressing the boots touching the hem of my dress.

The boots move from my vision, Jerrick's pant leg brushing along my dress as he sits next to me. He cups my chin, pulling it to meet his gaze.

"Would riding with me be better?"

I bite my lip, nodding quietly and knowing that helps solve part of my fear.

He relaxes, smiling softly and releasing my chin to stand. Jerrick eases me up from the bench, and I quickly lace my fingers through his. He rubs the same numbing circles as we walk back to the stables.

I keep my head down, studying my own feet. Other footsteps recede as we approach the saddled horses.

"May I?" Jerrick asks, offering to help me on to the black steed.

I look to the familiar horse, a tremor rushing through me. "Not that one," I blurt, averting my gaze.

Jerrick glances back and forth, a silent understanding shared between us before he guides me to the other horse.

The weight in my chest lightens, and I squeeze his hand in gratitude.

He places his hands on my hips, carefully lifting me into the saddle. When he mounts, his warmth cocoons me, and his arms flex when one wraps around my stomach.

I grab the pommel and rest my other hand atop his, the thought of his fingers trailing downward sends a wave of arousal down to my core.

Jerrick's lingering whisper prickles my skin. "I've got you. Just hang on."

His lips tickle my earlobe, more desire feeding my thoughts and settling between my legs.