Felicity couldn’t move. Her whole body was frozen like ice. She felt like she was ice. The king’s pretty little ice statue. A statue that wasn’t even a statue. She tried to wriggle her fingers. Nothing. She tried to wriggle her toes. Nothing again. Frustrated with her immobility, she tried one last time, and wriggled her nose.
It moved, she could move! Her nose moved, with the freedom the rest of her body lacked. She was ecstatic. Her body tingled with pleasure as she wriggled her nose more. She didn’t care if she looked like she was going crossed-eyed, not when the focal of her sight was the simple pleasure of watching her little nose wriggled. Wriggle, wriggle, wriggle. She could totally rap to this. Wriggle, wriggle, wriggle. Wriggle. Wriggle, wriggle, wriggle, wrrrigggle. Haha! No beastly king could best her if her nose wriggled!
“Stop that infernal wriggling!” Fel squealed within her frozen form. The sound muffled, reflected the height of the octave in which it sounded.
It was Gevird. She scowled, again the sound was muffled by her annoying armour. Stupid armour. So she resorted to glaring at the menacing captain of the guard. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t be the captain!
There was not a day in which she regretted her rash action. She should have left him to die on the streets where the horses pooped and the carts trundled without any concern for their surroundings. She didn’t have to help him off the cobbled ground into her safe house. But she did. She didn’t have to give him some food. But she did. She didn’t have to do anything because she had her own brothers and sisters to look after. But she fricking did!
“What do you want?” She said. Though the question was muffled.
He cocked his head. They were in the King’s statue room where he put his punished subjects. All around Fel were the people she had grown up with, known or admired from afar, maybe even despised from afar. Each and every one of them had been put here because they had done the King a wrong. It was a blasted room. There was no music; you’d think the King would at least treat his prisoners to some privileges. But no. The King was no kindly warden when it came to his frozen subjects. No, the King was cruel and unforgiving. Anyway, he didn’t think his prisoners would live. But their eyes, and noses (as she learned), were not covered by the magical prison, so she could still live. The others could not. Some were pardoned, but most were frozen for eternity. It wasn’t that she was immune to the magical ice, but because of who she was. If Gevird hadn’t betrayed her, then she wouldn’t be here. But he had. And she was.
Too bad her presence would be missed soon enough. She was exceedingly patient for a person where patience was generally considered wanting. But when the moment was worth it, Fel had all the patience in the world. And right now. She wanted Gevrid to know just how patient she could be.
Now that her nose was capable of free movement she knew the rest of her body would slow respond within its shell.
All the while Gevrid stood there. Why couldn’t he just go away?
As he watched her he slowly lost his sharp demeanour. All the hard edges which had been there a moment ago and bled together to leave behind a softer solider. What Fel meant, was a softer, liar of a solider. But whatever right? She was stuck and he was not.
Fel could feel the diamond in her boot. It was too big to unmissed but her little spell certainly drew her captives, and the King’s most trusted me to assume there was nothing in her boot. It was a shame really, since it was so big, it was obvious. But Fel had always been more capable than the King and his men put together.
They laughed as the King’s magic washed over her. But she was the one having the last laugh. She had stood exactly still. She didn’t need to run. She wanted the King’s ice on her. So far she was his biggest traitor, but so what? That was all part of the plan. He’d put her here to die and therefore, forgotten. But Fel wasn’t going to die, nor was she going to be forgotten.
She could already hear the voices in the diamond. Dallas and her girls were coming. As she watched Gevrid watching her she smirked. Her skin already heating like the fire in a dragon’s breast. Gevrid was wrong. He couldn’t stop her. Not even his last words to her when he took out would save him now.
The water filled her shoes, drenched her skirt and sizzled in the small space between the ice and her. Like the ice, this fire was no ordinary fire. It burned with a heart of magic. Fel had always been more powerful than her father. Too bad his ego was bigger than his brain.
“Sorry Gevrid,” she said as the ice turned to water pooling around her feet leaving her skin dry. “But the King is not going to keep me now.”
The shock was evident. And Fel knew better than to miss the opportunity to run. But as much as she despised Gevrid for tricking her, she would not let him suffer for something that was not his fault. Because well, Fel knew, he was just the King’s man.
She called the diamond to her hand, the magic that swirled within familiarly warm. She cupped the diamond, big for its kind, but small in her fist and pressed it to his forehead, pushing him down. The energy ripped from her soul, ripping her close to pieces as she called on the magic of the world to transform the stoic guard.
Dallas burst from above her head just as she finished up. Dallas caught her and drew her away to the litter they’d brought for the getaway.
Neither of the two women looked back at the kneeling soldier, his face expressionless, but handsomely carved. Amongst the ice statues, he was nearly indistinguishable.
But he was diamond, not ice.
- Like a Fire. ‘The diamond of truth’ Part Two (wordsthatflowlikewater.wordpress.com)