32

My Bed is the

Only Safe Place

Itwist and curl my fingers in Jerrick's cotton tunic. Remorse, exhaustion, and grief thrash through me at the admission that has tormented me for years.

The guilt over what I'd done has been hidden, the knowledge of it shared only with Niko. And the secret we keep remains concealed from the world, surfacing in my sleep, never letting me forget the aftermath of what happened the fateful day my mother and sister died.

I've become too familiar with how my magic affects me inwardly versus the terrorizing trauma when my abilities expel through my fingertips and feet.

The darkened thoughts add to Jerrick's earlier surprised expression, suggesting that if his life, too, were taken by me, his face would join in haunting my nights.

I squeeze him harder, my fingers now running through his hair, fearful I'd never be able to see him again.

What would his death do to Jonas? To Palaena?

The sheer possibility of it unsettles my nerves, making it hard to breathe as the arena closes in around me, plunging my shame and regret deeper into my soul.

If Niko and I follow through with his plan, I won't be able to live with myself for condemning an entire kingdom.

The merchant's words of warning echo in my mind, making the guilt unbearable.

Jerrick keeps me close, rubbing my back and holding my head. He threads his fingers through the plait along my scalp.

The silence is only broken up by each shuttered breath I release.

He leans me against the wall, holding my upper arms.

The cold, solid stone mixed with the wood of the threshold anchors me as he whispers, "Frostbite."

I slouch, exhausted, as Jerrick grips the sides of my face, angling it up to his while his thumbs seek to dry away each tear on my soaked cheeks.

Blinking away the tears, I focus on his softened expression, and when our eyes meet, the tenderness he offers cripples me more.

There is a temptation to ask him to use his gifts to make me feel something, anything other than this guilt and grief, but the courage never comes.

Instead, he curves his body over mine, the pale blue irises scanning my face.

"I am a monster."

I am a liar, a murderer, a betrayer—and a wicked, wretched Snow Queen.

Jerrick's features furrow. "No, you are not a monster."

I shake my head, denying his claims. "I've hurt so many people. Isn't that what monsters do?"

Jerrick's lips thin, and he blinks slowly.

He sees the truth in my statement, though he does not know just how much Niko and I intended to hurt people—to hurt him.

I don't want to be tied to the name Snow Queen, yet I have been preparing this entire time for Niko's fight, which I never wanted and need to stop.

"Monsters do hurt people," Jerrick says, confirming my thoughts. "But monsters do not care, Frostbite. You do." He rests his head against mine.

I pinch my eyes closed at his statement.

I've never wanted to hurt anyone and am desperate to ensure it will not happen here in Palaena.

My lips tremble, and disbelief squeezes my chest that I thought this man to be a monster.

More tears fall as I shake my head, unworthy of Jerrick's kind words.

"I know how this grief feels. I've been where you are," he says, voice quiet.

My stomach hollows out, realizing the depth of his words.

The same day he killed his father was… the same day my mother died…

The same day I killed my sister.

I stare deeply into his eyes, seeing the vulnerable admission for what it is.

We both inherited these gifts—these curses simultaneously. And yet here he is, well-trained in his power, knowledgeable, and aware.

He does not show any signs of his grief like I do. Instead, he has spent his entire time trying to manage himself, his kingdom, his magic, and his curse.

How does it not swallow him whole? How did he get past doing what he did?

"H-How do you do it? How did you find your happy again?"

My voice strains as the one thing I have wished for these last five years is laid bare to someone who has everything together.

"I have not found my happy," Jerrick admits.

My hopeful heart is crushed, but my soul calls to Jerrick again. "How did you heal?"

Jerrick sees me—has always seen me—and has never once backed down.

A flicker of life gleams in his gaze. His features relax as his thumbs caress my cheeks.

He leans in, and the comfort of that should scare me, but it feels so right—so perfect.

"Accept yourself, Frostbite. Flaws and all. Only then will healing and controlling your magic get easier. And maybe then you'll find your happy again."

I don't hesitate with my response. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that."

He kisses my forehead, sending a twinge of warmth to spread from tenderness I don't deserve.

Selfishly, I indulge in the heat of it, and when our eyes lock again, determination and hope shimmers in the depths of his blue eyes.

"If anyone can, it's you."

Jerrick's kiss lingers as he leaves me to my thoughts in the training arena, but really, he granted me the freedom to run through the castle.

I push my strides hard, taking the brunt of my exhaustion and emotions, stomping into the varying surfaces of stone, rug, and stairs, inching me closer to my chambers in hopes of an escape or a reprieve—anything to prevent me from feeling anymore.

If anyone can, it's you.

I want to banish the sentence from my mind. Anything to remove the image of his eyes, his kindness, his touch. My deepest secret confessed to a man who I believed to be my enemy yet never was.

The guilt of lying to Jerrick has been eating me alive this entire time. I've been pretending to help break his curse, using it for my own personal gain to learn about my magic and to stall him while preparing Axidoria for battle.

What have I done?

I want to slap myself in reprimand, hating how my mind and body are at war with one another when it comes to this man. My heart skips from the heat on my brow, forcing me to count the stairs below me.

Don't trip, Tove.

I bite my lip in concentration, almost tripping on the final step, grabbing the wall for balance. I hunch into myself, exhaustion taking over. But I fight through it, catching my breath to push on.

Someone coughs at the end of the hallway, and I shoot upright when the shadows reveal Jonas coming from my chambers. "Are you alright?" he asks, concern raising his brow.

I don't know how to answer, and the words I try to formulate into a full sentence won't make any sense. Heaving, I throw my hands and head up in defeat. It's pointless anyway.

I sulk down the hall to him and to my chambers, and he follows as I open the door, gesturing for him to enter.

"What is it?" he asks again.

"Just get inside," I command, my voice harsher than I intended.

He doesn't react, and I trail him, pausing to close the door.

Spinning to my bed, I wave toward the lounge chair for Jonas to sit and make himself comfortable as I flop onto the bed. I have not a care for the world as I roll, grab a pillow to hold over my face, and scream.

My screams are loud but muffled, and I continue until the scratchiness of my throat forces them to halt. Even then, I take my time before removing the pillow, throwing it off to the side and staring up into the canopy of my bed.

"Training bad, huh?" Jonas asks.

I humph a reply, exaggerating the sigh to convey more than what I can vocalize right now.

Jonas hums as we sit in the silence while I try to get over the ringing in my ears caused by my screams. One thing I have come to admire about Jonas is his patience.

Every time I've met with him, he has been observant and attentive, offering me a chance to voice my concerns and always finding a compromise. He's been like that outside of the meetings, too, recognizing everyone's body language and moods, while navigating a way to ease any tension in a room.

But the silence he offers now…

I am not sure if it is helping or making me feel worse.

Jonas clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I know magic can be tricky and difficult, but from what Jer told me—"

"Don't bring him up right now," I groan.

Jerrick's words and features are still strong in my mind. I am in a knot of feelings toward him, the biggest being my attraction, along with the regret for believing a fight was the best way to go home.

I need another option.

It is Jonas's turn to sigh, and the squeaking sound of him standing from the lounge chair grabs my attention. He approaches my bed, perching a knee up to climb on and join me in the middle.

The bed sinks down with the added weight, and he lies on his back to join me in staring at the ceiling. I rest one of my hands on my chest, and the other Jonas takes and locks with his.

The comfort is calming and reassuring, and I take what I can get as my mind roams on how to fix everything.

"When we were kids, I remember Jer always wearing the mantle of big brother, taking it seriously by taunting me, bullying me. You know, the whole shebang. It used to annoy the shit out of me," he says.

A light chuckle escapes at the thought of Jerrick and Jonas getting into it as kids, seeing glimpses of that whenever the two are in the library with me. And yet I don't know why he is offering me this information.

Jonas is closed off when it comes to his brother, but I remain quiet as my gaze turns from the ceiling to Jonas, the waves of his dark hair hiding his ears while he works his jaw.

"When our mother died, we were only teenagers, and my father took her death hard and blamed it on us. Jer did everything he could to keep it from affecting me. Sometimes, he would succeed, and other times… not so much," he forces out.

The thought of a parent doing such a thing to their children hollows out my stomach. I clutch my chest, hurting for Jonas and Jerrick.

I shiver at the memory of Jerrick mentioning his father reprimanding them for speaking out against his wishes.

"He told me about how he got his scar," I confide, earning a soft exhale from Jonas.

"Good. I am glad he told you. He doesn't let anyone in. Not even me that much anymore."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "Responsibility? Guilt? I'm not sure. But when it happened, something shifted in him. And I just—" Jonas breaks off and palms his head in defeat.

A long breath escapes from him, and I squeeze his hand.

"I can't help him. I try to, but I've let him down," he confesses, turning to me with tears in his eyes.

His confession is something Runa would confide to someone about me. A hopeful grin comes from the thought as I meet Jonas's gaze, understanding he needs comfort right now more than I do.

I lean in, pecking him on the cheek, relating to Jerrick and Jonas so much. It makes my heart swell when I see a small blush form.

"You haven't let him down, and you are a good brother. Deities, you're the best brother I could have ever asked for."

A sweet chuckle escapes from him, warmth spreading as I know I spoke true. I am undeserving of them both.

"What I mean to tell you, Tove, is I know he can be a cocky asshole. I know he can be mean and cruel. I've seen all sides of him. And while I don't know what happened between the two of you earlier, we both need to help him. Underneath all that hardness, underneath his magic, his curse, there is a light within him."

"I know there is."

I remember Jerrick's charm when we first met in Axidoria, the amusing faces he'd crack when waking me up in the library, the gifts he's given me, and the tenderness he offers the more I am around him.

The riddling guilt of not helping break his curse constricts around my heart. Maybe if I cancel the plan to invade and dedicate my time to helping Jerrick, he will grant me freedom and safe passage home.

A thought crosses my mind, and it is too tempting to not voice.

I tread into slippery territory. "Do you think if we broke the curse, Jerrick would divorce me and let me return home?"

Jonas shifts uncomfortably.

It is law to follow a monarch's binding decree, yes, but my readings have shown divorce is possible. The downside to making it happen is that it is a long process, which is why it is so rare.

But I can't help but think if Jerrick's curse was lifted, there would no longer be a reason to be together, and I could return home.

A change in a monarch's decree is not taken lightly and has to involve all the rulers and a priest from each kingdom. It requires the revised version to be as close to the original as possible but with a few changes. Then it has to be read and approved and signed by each one.

My heart is banking on the hope that breaking the curse means breaking the marriage, and it means going home.

Jonas shrugs in uncertainty. "That is between you and Jerrick."

I hold his gaze, begging for the new plan I have in mind to work. "But do you think he would?"

He looks between my eyes, releasing a long sigh. "I think when it comes to your happiness, Jerrick would grant you anything."

I scoot across the mattress, wrapping half of myself around Jonas. I sigh as he rests his head against mine.

The solid comfort and support of Jonas weighs me down as this overwhelming, yet familiar feeling overtakes me. I've felt this before.

With my parents, with Runa, and now with him.

My love for Jonas blurs my vision.

This could all work. It has to.

Faith and hope tighten in my chest, knowing I will not hurt any of the people I have come to care for here.

A tear slips on Jonas's skin, and his eyes meet mine as he asks, "What's the matter?"

I pull away, wiping my eyes, my own liberation warming my heart enough to tell him how much he means to me. "It's just—you really are an amazing brother, Jonas. Not only to Jerrick but to me. I thank you for your constant stream of kindness and company. They are something I don't deserve."

He faces me, pulling me in tightly. "Oh, Tove."

Something wet touches my cheek, and I joke, "I thought men weren't supposed to cry?"

Jonas half sobs, half laughs. "Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting such a heartfelt moment."

We break into a laugh, comforting each other for a few minutes as my tears dry.

When Jonas pulls away, he holds my cheek, forcing me to look at him. "I am honored to know you, honored to be your family, and I can only hope Jerrick will realize how much of a light you are to us and our kingdom." He kisses me on my forehead, and emotions I stupidly thought were done coat my cheeks yet again.

I whisper, "Thank you, Jonas."

"Anytime, sis." He winks as he peels up off the bed to make his way out of my chambers.

I call after him before he leaves. "Wait, why did you come to my chambers?"

He waves it off. "Nothing too important, only letting you know preparations are being finalized for the party in a fortnight."

I think quietly to myself, and Jonas departs. Warmth and a fuzzy feeling seep deep into my bones as I lie down, the exhaustion and events of the afternoon come full circle.

I grab a second pillow, drawing it close as my chest rises and falls. The bed sinks me into a comfortable place, relaxation finding me and creeping up my body.

Hope clutches my heart in a firm grip, believing that if I truly did help Jerrick, he would let me go. I muster confidence and form a prayer to the Makers above.

Taking my time, I recite each of their names and abilities, expressing gratitude and admiration for them, unsure if pleasantries will gain me anything.

Struggling to reach the end of my prayer, I whisper the final words repeatedly, "Please. Please, help me, and please help Jerrick."