Chapter 9

After lunch, Nicolais had some important work to tend to, something about one of the villages close to the palace. Which led to him locking himself inside his office, making me a free bird. Only, I had no idea what to do with myself.

Get used to it.

I guess I wasn’t supposed to do much, not that I had any responsibilities or anything to spend my days with. At least none that Nicolais had mentioned. Actually, I guess I was free to do whatever I pleased, whatever I wanted to do. Normally, I wasn’t really forced to do anything, but this felt different; it almost felt wrong somehow.

The scent of flowers hit my nose as I moved out towards the garden. Some fresh air would probably do me some good. The sun was beaming down at me, just like it had done every other day, not a cloud in the sky. The heat was rough on my body, definitely something I would have to get used to as well. Even when it hit the peak of summer at home, it never got as warm as it was here.

The tiles underneath my shoes were probably hot as hell as well, making them a great place to fry an egg or something. I followed one of the pathways through the garden, giving myself ample time to look at every flower, basking in their array of colors, shapes, sizes, and, of course, some of their weird stems as well.

Just as I rounded a corner, I saw him, Siccala. He was sitting relaxed on a bench, his eyes glued to a book. It was a heavy one, definitely filled with a bunch of meaningful words.

He doesn’t want to be disturbed.

I could almost hear Nicolais’s voice in my head. Siccala didn’t want to be disturbed in his office, but was it the same out here? With the attitude and spirit he had shown me at breakfast, I couldn’t possibly ruin our relationship more, could I?

“What are you reading?”

His eyes instantly shot up towards me, his body moving gracefully as he stood. His one hand still holding onto the book, his second finger resting against the page he had reached, making it easier for him to return to it.

“Miss Jones,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I’m reading a boring book, nothing of your interest.”

I walked closer, before I sat down on the bench next to him. I might as well talk to him, as I could have walked around and waited for Nicolais to finish working.

“Give me a chance,” I said, smiling a crooked smile up at him.

He sat back down next to me. His entire posture shone with how uncomfortable he was, but honestly, I couldn’t understand why. “I’m reading about relationship building, and why it is important to communicate openly and honestly with each other.”

“That sounds pretty interesting,” I answered, giving him a softer, more trying smile, while I looked at the cover of the book. “Is it an easy read?”

A small smile spread across his lips as he looked down at the book. His long, white hair was tucked behind his ears, so that it was clear to see his long face with a strong jaw. “It can be a little dry.”

“You should probably find one with pictures and models in it, then,” I smiled, leaning back on the bench. “That made it easier for me to get through the chapters when I went to school.”

His icy blue eyes found mine, a second of silence, and then he started laughing. His laughter was soft, almost like music to my ears, making me chuckle alongside him. “I think the king would have me admitted if I started referencing my knowledge to pop-up books.”

Relief flew through me. Relief that it seemed to work, that we seemed to be able to have a full conversation. Relief that he apparently didn’t seem to hate me, or just resent me for something I didn’t actually do.

“I’ll talk to him,” I answered, still grinning, while shrugging my shoulders.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “How did the tour go?”

I looked at the back of his head, further down onto his clearly muscular back. It was obvious that Siccala was a buff man, but in a more elegant and lean way than Nicolais was.

“It went great,” I said, looking over my shoulder at the palace. “It’s very… grand and fancy.”

“The Kingdom of Summer has never shied away from showing their grandness and wealth.” He spoke with a very distinguished kind of authority, like every word coming out of his lips had been carefully chosen and thought of before he even spoke the first one.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

He leaned back on the bench, looking a lot more relaxed again. I turned my body slightly, putting one of my legs up on the bench, so that I could look at him better without having to break my neck.

“No,” he answered, looking down at the book in his hands. “I’m from the Kingdom of Vinter.”

“What’s it like there?”

A smile bloomed on his lips as he dreamed himself back to his place of origin. “It’s incredibly beautiful,” he started, while his gaze was locked on the leatherbound book in his hands. “It’s cold, but not freezing,” he explained. “There’s snow all year long, but everything just looks so beautiful like that, frozen in time.” Everything about him screamed love and longing. “The King of Winter is old,” he raised his eyebrows slightly. “He’s the king who has ruled the longest,” his eyes fell on me again. “An incredibly wise and rightful king. A king who keeps his people happy. He never goes to war, and he doesn’t mingle with the other kingdoms. He keeps to himself and his kingdom, whether that’s the smartest idea or the stupidest one, I cannot tell you.”

“Do you miss it?” I asked, practically able to imagine it. Almost like the Queen’s Land in Narnia, where everything is frozen in a white winter, where the snow falls beautifully, where everyone is thrilled about the weather, and dressed for it.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, his eyes falling back on the book. “But mostly my family.”

“Do they ever come here?”

“No,” he answered, his voice curd. “Just like the king, they have chosen not to visit me in another kingdom, but I’m always welcome to return home.”

“Is there a reason the king won’t mingle with the other kingdoms?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

He shrugged his shoulders. “If there is, then he’s keeping it to himself.”

Our eyes locked briefly, his icy blue eyes growing distant with thoughts of his childhood. It looked like he was contemplating every decision he had ever made. But at the same time, he looked to be so incredibly present, like everything happening around him was being catalogued and saved for another time. As quickly and suddenly as our eye contact had been, just as quickly did it disappear again.

“What’s it like in the human world?” He was the first one to ask me that, the first one to seem interested in where I came from.

“Different,” I answered. How were you even supposed to answer that kind of question? Where were you going to start? “It’s like we’re more modern,” I explained, even though it sounded like I asked him, rather than told him. “I had a job where I served drinks and beers for others. I had an apartment which I had to clean, where I cooked, and where I did my laundry. I had to find a way to survive, but here-”

“Here everything is taken care of for you,” he finished, finding the words for me so easily.

“Exactly.”

“You remind me of my sister,” he said, and must have seen the confusion in my eyes, because he continued, “she’s also an independent woman. My mother has a hard time finding suitors for her, mostly because she doesn’t want to be just another property for a man.” Yet another smile bloomed. “She once screamed right in my face in front of a bunch of important, high-ranking men, and public humiliation is not a thing men willingly seek out.”

I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped my lips, which actually made him do the same. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he answered with a smile. He placed his hands on his knees, still keeping his book in his right hand. “I should get back to work,” he said, standing up, “but it was a pleasure talking to you,” he said, making an open gesture towards me with his left hand. “Luna.”

“Right back at you, Siccala,” I smiled, delighted about our conversation.

“Just call me Sicca.”

“Of course, Sicca,” I said, doing a victory dance on the inside.

What a sweet jackass.