The coronation was a success. The people cheered. The constables were able to recruit several dozen young men and women for our new army. The sight of me in full regalia inspired their patriotism, and I’m glad—we all have a part to play in our own salvation. Lahja smiled and waved, lifting spirits high. When Raimo made the torches flare and twist, she pressed her head against my chest but didn’t scream.
My limbs are leaden as I step from the tub and let Helka dry me off. She’s done this dance so many times, which is why I asked her to return to the temple as my handmaiden. She brushes my hair and plaits it loosely. I can tell by the solid slowness of her movements that she’s thinking of Sofia, all the days they shared together—so many but not nearly enough. Her dimpled chin trembles as she lowers my gown over my head, and I sigh as it slips over my body and falls to my ankles, soft and comforting. “Is Lahja awake? I promised to play with her.”
Helka lets out a sniffly chuckle. “When I went down to make sure her dress was properly packed away, Janeka told me she was already sleeping. Today tired her out.”
I swallow back my disappointment. The warm weight of her body soothes me, gives me purpose . . . and beats back the loneliness, for a few moments at least. “I see.”
She strokes my arm. “My Valtia—Sofia—she loved you like you love that little girl. You were Lahja’s age when you came here. Sofia hated not seeing you. But she made sure we gave her reports of your activities every single day.”
My face crumples with the grief of lost years. The elders kept us apart. Another part of their scheme to break the Valtia’s will, to bend her to their desires, all under the guise of keeping her strong and pure in her magic. And because she had dedicated her life to being all the Kupari needed, she complied. But it hurt both of us, and I won’t let that happen with Lahja. “Things are different now. I’ll see her tomorrow.”
Helka smiles. “I’m glad, my Valtia,” she says hoarsely. She smooths back a tendril of blond-gray hair from her wrinkled forehead. “Do you need anything else?”
I shake my head. “Thank you,” I murmur. “Have a good night.”
The emptiness in my chest yawns wide and numb as I pull open the doors to my balcony and step into the night air. We have a month of winter left at the most. The icy wind swirls about me, sending shivers from the top of my head to the soles of my bare feet. The moon hangs high in the darkness, shining down on the fissured white face of the Motherlake. The stars twinkle, mysterious and silent, carving out our future in the ebony expanse.
My fingers curl over the marble railing, and I close my eyes, letting the icy breeze skim over my face, pretending it’s Oskar’s magic instead. It slips along my neck and under the edge of my gown, giving me goose bumps. “I miss you,” I breathe.
I’m queen now. I can’t be loved by one. And especially not the Ice Suurin. Raimo’s warning is never that far from my thoughts. But neither is Oskar himself.
“I miss you, too,” the cool wind whispers.
I whirl, my heart lurching into my throat. Oskar stands at the far side of the balcony. He steps from the shadows, his thick cloak hanging from his shoulders, his footfalls silent despite his size. His hair is loose around his shoulders, and he hasn’t shaved in at least a week. He smells like earth and horse and smoke, the knees of his trousers are smudged with grime, and his boots are crusted with mud.
He’s never looked better.
“I thought you were in the outlands.”
He runs his hand over a smear of dirt on his cloak. I don’t miss his shiver as the wind tosses our hair. “I was. And tomorrow we’re riding to the western shore where it meets the Loputon. There have been reports of fires in the sky.”
I frown. “More wielders?” Someone powerful enough to send fire above the high hills on the coast. “Do you think it could be her?” Oskar’s not just looking for recruits—he’s looking for our Valtia. We might be taking steps to save ourselves, but we need her more than ever.
He shrugs. “No way of knowing until we get there. We can always hope.”
“Be careful,” I blurt out. “It could be the escaped priests. Or—Kauko probably has Sig, and—”
“Raimo told me.” His eyes glint with the ice inside. “I have no intention of letting the blood drinker have another Suurin. But I won’t abandon Sig either. If he’s there, I’m going to get him back.” He looks so fierce that it’s easy to believe.
I reach up and run the backs of my fingers along his rough, chilled cheek. “Why did you come?”
He arches his eyebrow. “Do you really need to ask?”
I grin. “How did you get in here?”
“During your coronation. It wasn’t difficult. We need to talk to Raimo about guards for your wing and Lahja’s.” His eyes linger on mine. He’s worried but trying not to say it.
My mouth twitches as I fight a smile. “So you’ve been shivering out here on my balcony the whole time my handmaiden undressed and bathed me?”
He clears his throat. “Well. As eager as I was to see you, I thought it best not to poke my head in while you were . . .”