Chapter 4

The harmonious chords chirping from a violin fell in step with the clatter of heels and boots moving through the ball room. Ice, blue orbs spared a quick glance at the clock tower outside and bit back a sigh.

Ten forty-five. Elias thought, nodding his head to the Duke of Ferdinand before he scampered off. Were these meetings always this long?

Elias moved off to the side, watching a small parade of pale dresses swirl by. He rolled his shoulders back, stifling a yawn that tickled his tongue, when a glass met his vision.

"Best to keep hydrated, you know that." Elias scoffed, shooting Ingvar a quizzically look as the man shrugged. Elias grasped onto the glass and took a tentative sip before straightening his shoulders. "At least look like you're enjoying yourself."

"Of course," Elias rolled his eyes, "because meetings are the best thing in the world."

Ingvar smirked, taking a sip from his own glass and leaned back against the wall. He swirled the golden cider in his glass, watching as frost gently coated the outside when he asked, "More news about the Draugen?"

Elias sighed, taking another sip from his glass. "Unfortunately."

Ingvar followed the king's gaze that shifted across the gentries. "You know none of them are going to turn on you, correct?"

"I know that Ingvar," Elias replied tiredly, "It's a matter of knowing who will break down first."

Ingvar hummed against the rim of his glass. He glanced at the other's stormy eyes as he took in the crowd before him, breaking down their current state with predictions with a war hanging over their heads. A grin lifted at the corner of Ingvar's lips. Restless in and out of battle, he thought to his self just before he turned his attention forward.

Striding towards them was a man suited in crimson, ivory, and gold sashes and medals shuddering against his large chest. With dark auburn hair combed back and mustached trimmed, Ingvar had to bite down on his tongue to halt the grin slithering from the confines of his mind. He nodded over to the man, whispering, "Speaking of breaking down."

Elias snapped out of his calculating, placing his glass onto a tray of a server before straightening his shoulders again. As the man came to a halt before him, Elias bowed his head.

"King Westerguard." Elias said.

The man bowed his head at Elias, his deep voice rumbling, "Your majesty. Sir Ingvar." Ingvar nodded back at the man, quietly straightening his self as well as the man turned back to Elias. "A lovely meeting you've coordinated, your majesty."

Elias shook his head. "No, the credit should go to my uncle and the castle staff. I merely speak to the gentries here."

"Modest as always," King Westerguard chuckled, his medals rattling against his chest. Elias blinked away the gold blinding his gaze until the man settled down. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as he narrowed his emerald gaze on Elias. "Actually, I came to ask you about something."

"Is it about the Draugen?" Elias asked.

King Westerguard shook his head, waving his gloved hand at the question. "Goodness, no. Nothing about that mythical rubbish roaming around."

Elias arched an eyebrow at him as Ingvar asked, "You think they're a myth?"

"Aren't they though," the king replied, "No one has ever seen this terrible clan, yet claim they're the reason for their peoples' illnesses, vandalism, and sorts." The king's eyes narrowed at the thought before shaking his head. "But that's besides the point. Have you read my proposal letters your grace?"

Elias's muscles struggled to hold back the flinch that rippled down his spine. His teeth tentatively began gnawing the inside of his cheek before jerking his self out of his daze and focusing on the king.

"Yes, I've read and considered your proposal, however…" Elias started.

The king nodded, "Yes?"

"I believe it would be too soon for me to step forward in that direction. Perhaps in time—"

Before Elias could finish, a thundering chortle erupted deep from within the king's chest, piercing the melodic air of the ballroom. The gentries' eyes gawked at the king as he wrapped a hand over his stomach. His laughs bounced off the painted walls of the room while he hiccupped to try to breathe once more. Elias blinked, casting a glance at Ingvar who merely shrugged as he eyed the king. The man's bulbous shoulders trembled gently as his laughter died down. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, gasping for breath.

"Forgive me your grace," he chuckled lightly. The man ran a hand over his dispatched hair, smoothing out the dark tresses, before looking back at Elias. "Of course it would be too soon for you. After all, a king deserves some freedom before being too bound to the rules of law and blood. Hell, when I was your age the very notion didn't even cross my mind." Elias nodded, offering a small smile as the man continued. "No, no. I was referring to the other letter."

The smile on Elias's lips faded, blinking heavily, before muttering a soft, "Oh, of course."

King Westerguard turned his beam towards Ingvar. "It was actually your uncle that sparked the idea. A brilliant way it is to maximize both our economies and alliances. In time my boy, you might rule just as half as good as your uncle."

"Nonsense," Ingvar chastised, shaking his head. He gave Elias a smile. "A regent is never as good as one born to rule." Elias felt a prickle of heat dust his cheeks, his heart skipping a beat as he swallowed thickly.

"Such modesty in your kingdom," the king chuckled.

Elias gave them a weak grin, listening to the other king ramble about the lack of decency in his Southern Isles until his eyes fluttered over to the end of the ballroom. A young maid bumped into the back a gentry, knocking the tray from her hands. The glass crashed onto the floor while the woman bowed her apologizes to the gentry who stomped off, stomping his foot amongst the glass as he went. Elias's eyes narrowed, his hands folding behind his back.

"Would you two excuse me?" he said, stepping away from the men as he ventured down to the end of the ballroom. He eyed the maid briskly trying to brush the splintered glass onto the tray, yelping at the sharp pricks at her fingers. She began to groan at the ever spreading cider before Elias kneeled down beside her. "Are you alright?"

The maid flinched, jerking her gaze up towards the man with a flushed face. "Oh, your majesty, I'm just fine. Please forgive my clumsiness and enjoy the rest of the meeting." She muttered, turning back to clean up the glass.

Elias raised an eyebrow at her, flicking a finger towards the tray. The maid gasped as a trail of blue snowflakes began to brush the glass onto the tray. Her hands clasped onto the edges of her forest green dress while the glass piled up onto the tray. Elias eyed her carefully, watching her shoulders tremble with each trail of snow he conjured. His eyes then trailed over the rough texture of her hands, her bruised knuckles growing ashen, until his gaze landed onto her shoes. A thick set of mud was etched onto the soles of her boots, the reddened dirt crumbling onto the floor.

"You know," Elias said, tilting his head to the side as the last fractal of glass landed onto the tray. His hands were clasped behind his back again. "It's very unusual for a maid to get her shoes so dirty when they're always in the palace."

The maid's trembling slowly ceased as her hand trailed under her dress.

"And it's very unusual for a monster to act kind," she said quietly. Suddenly, her fingers dug into her boot and turned on her heel. A blade slashed through the air towards Elias as she snarled, "Your majesty!"

The gentries gasped as the woman's blade made quick strokes towards Elias as he dodged back with every advance. He felt the blade's heavy metal's cuts whiz by his body until he a bolt of ice was flicked from his hand. The ice flew through the air, smashing into the maid's hand holding the blade. A strangled cry fell from her lips as the blade clattered onto the ground, her free hand cradling the hand with an icicle lodged in the center. Crimson spilled from her hand and dotted the floor until Elias dashed forward and snatched her arm. Twisting it behind her back, the woman cried out again as she heard her bones grind against each other mercilessly.

Elias brought his mouth to her ear, hissing, "Who sent you?"

Through the bolts of pain pooling within her bleeding hand and grinding against her twisted arm, she chuckled weakly, "You think I'm the only one."

The other gentries backed up towards the windows of the ballroom only to shriek as the glass shattered. Glass rained down upon them while black and red veiled bodies flew through the windows. A growl rumbled in the back of Elias's throat, twisting the woman's arm until he felt the bone underneath crumble. He dropped the woman from his grasp, jerking his head towards her feet and free arm where ice crept upon it and moved to the side.

He glanced back at the doors of the ballroom and at the intruders closing in on the gentries. The guards won't make it. He cursed, before whisking his hand at a flurry of blades approaching the gentries. A thick wall of ice slammed into the intruders. Their veiled bodies crumbled under the weight of the ice while another set turned towards him.

Elias's eyes narrowed as another pillar of icicles crept towards the intruders. Suddenly, Elias hissed as a trail of crimson trickled down his brow. He barely caught a glance of his attacker before a flurry of daggers flew his way. He jumped back, casting a thin wall of ice to shield him from the onslaught before it crumbled. His attacker ran towards him, knocking down the icicles thrown his way with his blades. As he was about leap onto Elias a heart wrenching cry flooded the air. Elias watched as a series of giant icicles pierced through the man's legs, throwing him to the ground before another icicle slashed by his neck. The man barely writhed in the puddle of blood pooling around him before he stilled, the blade tumbling from his grasp as an ivory boot stomped on it.

Elias didn't even blink, panting as he eyed Ingvar kicking the side of his attacker. Elias ran a hand through his hair. "Over did it, don't you think?"

Ingvar rolled his head to the side with a shrug. "It shouldn't have come at you." He replied hollowly.

Elias shook his head as the guards flooded in through the doors. He turned on his heel towards the gentries, calling out, "Is everyone alright?"

The gentries shuddered and cried against the other side of the wall, some hurling their bile into corners at the blood and powdered bone creeping across the floor. Lady Lenore brought her head up to look at their king, then all the color fled from her face as she turned and spilled her champagne onto a series of dresses and her husband's suit. Elias blinked until his fingers brushed against the warm reside sticking to his cheeks. He glanced over at Ingvar, a sheen of crimson seeping through his suit while the end of his pale hair was crossed between white and red.

Probably not the best presentation of myself, Elias thought absentmindedly.

Ingvar snapped his fingers, the ice encasing the maid melting as he gestured to the guards. "Take her into custody for question." The ice bleeding from his voice made the temperature in the room drop while the woman hissed, choking on silent cries as the men took her away.

Elias scanned the room, noting the gentries present and possibly hurt when his heart clung to his chest. He gaze jerked from side to side, prying through the crowd of trembling gentries while his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

He turned on his heel, clasping his blood stained hand on Ingvar's shoulder, shaking it as he stuttered hoarsely, "Ingvar, where's Andy?"

Ingvar's brows furrowed until a raspy chuckle hiccupped from the maid's lips. Ingvar flicked his wrist for the guards to stop as he strode over to her.

"What are you laughing about?" he snarled.

She trembled at the stormy silver eyes burning into her, her laughs crossing between hysterical and painful. "I-it's so cute," she murmured with a broken smirk. "How you monsters think it's over."

Elias's brows rose until a raw, bitter odor singed the room. He sniffed at the air sharply as a bile of copper roused upon his tongue.

Sulfur. His head jerked up as he exclaimed, "Everybody down!"

The gentries, startled, blinked at him quizzically at their king until a thundering clap roared through the night. The darkness was instantly devoured by a sinuous, cognac flame that slithered its heated tongues through the air, throwing its ashen cloud of smoke through the shattered windows of the ballroom. The gentries threw themselves to the floor, throwing their hands over their heads as they felt the vibrations rock their bodies. As the thunder died down, faint cries carried over on the thick smoke flitting through the ballroom.

Elias peered through the black smoke, blinking back the smoldering burn in his eyes, while catching the ash settling over a thin blanket over the gentries. He staggered to his feet, coughing roughly into his blackened sleeve as he turned around and felt his heart drop. A raging fire prodded at the sky, casting its thick smoke over the harvest moon while dancing over the village. Elias felt a snowflake gingerly kiss his cheek, barely even noticing the snow beginning to fall within the ballroom. His heart soon clawed at his chest at the one thought screaming through his mind:

Andy.