Daggers of Ice

Chapter 15

Cair Paravel.

Arianna.

With dark eyes that had nothing to do with the night sky, she watched the stream of nobility entering the great wooden gates. Adorned in their finery, bearing smiles and laughter, the court of Cair Paravel was unaware of the woman who walked among them.

Dripping in riches and happiness.

Even their horses were decorated with golden harnesses, groomed to a shine and in the light of the moon their coats looked like liquid silver, beautiful flanks filled with the power their riders lacked.

The amount of wealth on display could have fed her army for months; necks and wrists draped with glittering gold and sparkling jewels. Plush fur coats and shawls worn in attempt to stave off the cold. She could feel Jadis's disgust deep within her mind, a mocking laughter at their foolish preening. But it was an echo of an echo.

The movement of her horse was steady beneath her, its steps lights as it took her towards the castle.

"You look every part the Narnian Queen," Faelar said softly, reaching over and taking her reins as if to guide her like a good manservant would. The northman's weapons were well concealed in his plush doublet, throwing knives that he would be quick to draw upon that any who wished her arm.

She regarded him, somewhat puzzled. "I am no Narnian, Faelar. And I am no Daughter of Eve."

I am whatever I want to be.

The centaur guards stood behind the footman, who greeted each of the visitors, taking care of the mounts that she did not think any of the nobles spared a second thought to.

As she dismounted, her hand in Faelar's, she seized up the guard who approached. He would have been intimidating had she not had a centaur bleed out beneath her blade before, and he had certainly been a fine specimen.

Beneath the light cast by the gate she could see him quite clearly, inclining her head slightly in acknowledgement. His eyes were the colour of cocoa, but there was no warmth in them, they were no match for Edmund's. His honey-coloured hair matched the colour of his equine tail, both were knotted with random plaits and beads; his coat was a shining golden-brown. Certainly a handsome face, but he was too stern for it to be becoming.

"Welcome, lady, to Cair Paravel," his voice was a deep rumble, almost like rough silk. And then she was inside the gates, with little more than a fancy gown to cover her and a cursory glance at the invitation. As easy as it had been last time.

She felt no guilt for the young woman and her rider who lay in the ditch with their throats slit, crimson blood spilt over her luxurious gown. The rubies she had worn were like droplets of blood against the snow that had become her tomb. To prevent any from finding them, Arianna had told Faelar, though it was as if he'd seen right through her. It was how she would have liked to be buried when she died – encased in glittering ice.

She could not see Myriel over the hundreds of heads, but she felt no stress.

The dryad knew the plan well.

And if it were indeed a trap, as Arianna had expected, she would not be played.

Indeed, she almost felt sorry for Edmund and his siblings.

But he had been the fool that had taken her daggers.

...

Jadis.

Her weapon had become her prison.

She snarled.

No longer could she see properly through Arianna's eyes, her vision was cracked. Distorted.