Gemma started to correct the lady before she gave up and broke off in a sigh. “No. There’s not even a glimmer of hope,” she said.
Stil was probably still treating his shoulder from the rider’s arrow. And even if he was well enough to move, Pricker Patch could not cover the distance Gemma and the soldiers had covered in such a short amount of time.
“Then we will have to play the waiting game. When you become queen, I will be able to more easily pay social calls to you,” Lady Linnea said. She finished bandaging Gemma’s hand and slipped the tail end of the bandage under one of the wrapped layers.
“Your parents will lock you in your room if you do,” Gemma said.
Lady Linnea gave Gemma a playful grin. “They can try. I will merely have to expand my list of recruits to help me slip out. Sissel has become my newest ally. She is a great help. I am starting to see why you gave your handiwork to those you did. They have come out of the shadows one by one to help me.”
“I am glad,” Gemma smiled.
Lady Linnea picked up her basket of smelly concoctions. “Unfortunately, I need to go.”
“I understand.”
Lady Linnea stared into Gemma’s grey eyes. She placed her free hand on Gemma’s shoulder and pulled her close for a hug. “Be strong, and have courage. I will not abandon you. You can survive this.”
“Thank you,” Gemma said.
“Of course. Take care, until next time,” Lady Linnea winked before adjusting her ill-fitting robe and imperiously knocking on the door.
The door opened, and Lady Linnea slipped out, leaving Gemma alone with her thoughts.
Lady Linnea will move too late. Even if she does attempt to kill King Torgen, he will crush me before she gets the chance to finish him off. King Torgen will ruin me before Lady Linnea can rescue me.
“Lady Linnea is so very valiant…but I don’t think she understands King Torgen’s darkness,” Gemma said, her voice breaking the silence. The thought brought her no comfort, but it stiffened her resolve.
“It’s just as well. I won’t let him break me,” she vowed, straightening a bit of her bandage.
A memory of Stil holding her hands to his face swam through her mind.
“No,” Gemma decided, pushing the thought away. I refuse to become a silly girl who sighs and grows despondent over matters of the heart.
“Although I do love him, I think,” Gemma admitted, ever practical. What was it Grandmother Guri said? To be open to love? Well, I wasn’t. And it still got me in the end—unreasonable heart!
Gemma scowled at the thought. “Well, it’s done,” she said. “There’s no use ruminating over it. I may as well focus on something productive: making King Torgen angry.”
The following morning, the guards opened the door for two lady’s maids, who shrieked when they entered the bedroom.
The wedding dress—which followed royal styles as opposed to civilian styles and was a giant white, puffball of a dress—was ruined. Over night, Gemma had industriously ripped the eyesore to shreds, so no piece bigger than the size of her palm remained.
The pieces were scattered around the room, making it look like a snowstorm had swept through over the course of the night.
Gemma was in the middle of a yawn and was sitting on a padded window seat as opposed to sleeping. “Good morning,” she said with a pleased smile. The lady’s maids said nothing but flounced out of the room in a huff, their skirts billowing behind them.
Gemma smirked at their retreat and turned to look outside, which looked just as dreary as she felt. Today was the day she was to marry King Torgen.
“It’s a shame I haven’t any Starfires,” Gemma muttered as she thought of the oddly changed hellhound. “I imagine a prism shoved down his throat would greatly alter King Torgen as well.”
Chapter 17
All too soon, the lady’s maids returned, armed with another ill-fitting, terribly styled dress. Gemma argued with the lady’s maids that she could be married in what she was wearing, but judging by their tight motions and squeaky voices, they would face consequences if Gemma did not put on the white monstrosity.
Gemma eventually complied, and, as Lady Linnea had said, by noon she found herself in the Ostfold Cathedral.
The church was breathtaking—the entire thing was made with sanded, unstained wood. It was almost triangular in shape, but tiered like a cake. It followed the Verglas tradition of elaborate woodcarvings of reindeer and snowflakes, and the center tower had windows to let in sunlight. The only spot of color—besides the beautiful reds and browns of the wood—was an intricate, circular stained-glass window set above the altar. It was high up the wall so, should the sun happen to shine, it would cast colored light on the church congregation.
