"You kids ready?" Lance asked from the stairs, no more than his head and shoulders sticking up into Yvette's room. "Her Majesty sent me to fetch you."
Yvette sighed. She'd told Zach to hide when they heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, but apparently his illusion hadn't fooled their brother/father. Of course it hadn't. They were still new to all this, whereas he'd first set foot in Winter years and years ago. That he was able to escape
her
notice didn't mean anything. She was nobody.
"Don't worry," Lance added. "I won't tell anyone that I found the two of you together." He gave Yvette a small smile. "Lena and I have broken a few rules for each other too."
Zach stepped away from the frozen wall, carved as everything else was from blocks of solid ice, and came back into view. "I bet you did," he said, a hint of challenge in his voice. He stared at the older man the way one might a jailor.
That probably should have frustrated her. On the one hand, she couldn't help wondering where he got off acting so jealous over her when he'd given his virginity to Lena. The more she thought about it, the more that bothered her. He'd let a woman he knew next to nothing about, who might or might not have any decency left, claim the prize that was rightfully Yvette's. That he'd all but promised to her. On the other hand, seeing her one furry beast engage the other in a staring contest over her made her vadge tingle. Bad Yvette was just
loving
the defiance in her brother's eyes and hoped she might yet see the two of them come to blows over her. What greater validation of her desirability could a woman ask for?
Lance's eyes met those of his younger brother. Face utterly impassive, he sniffed at the air, as if testing the boy's scent from across the room. He evidently wasn't impressed by it. "It's not wise to keep her waiting," he said before turning to take a step down the tower.
With a mere thought, Yvette got dressed again. And this time, she chose an outfit that might better please the queen. She hoped. Her black top had loose sleeves that belonged on a more conservative garment. The sort women wore in centuries long past. But the fabric was so thin as to be translucent, and therefore did little to hide her otherwise naked breasts. The neckline, such as it was, left her shoulders and the better part of her chest exposed, putting her tattoo on full display. Lest it go unnoticed, she freshened the ink too, making the tattoo look fresh. Below the waist, she wore flowing black satin skirts embroidered with blue flowers. Her pumps, which hid beneath the ample skirts, were dark blue. As were her formerly black nails. Her thick eyeshadow incorporated many different shades of blue.
She was tempted to adopt the same blue lips Lena sported. But something told her that would come across as presumptuous. She wanted to look like a proper daughter of Winter, a little scary and a lot sexy, but also one who knew her place. Something told her those bold blue lips were something one had to earn. So she stuck with her favorite shade of pink.
To make her feel a little more decorative, though, she added the pentagram amulet that she'd stopped wearing after realizing the effect it had on the Jesus freaks handing out pamphlets on campus. A bunch of rings too. Almost every finger now had one, including her thumbs. Some had two. Most were plain metal, but a few were adorned with blood-red garnet or black onyx. She promptly replaced those with lapis lazuli.
For his part, Zach went with jeans, tennis shoes, and a simple white T-shirt. Which was less than most men would wear in that cold palace in the heart of Winter, but nonetheless struck Yvette as somewhere between a show of weakness and one of impudence. Lance wasn't wearing a shirt, and hadn't once since they'd arrived. At least, not that Yvette had seen. All he ever wore was a pair of black leather pants. He even walked around the icy palace on bare feet. It was like he wanted the world to know that no amount of cold could bother him. The same way Zach should have.
Still, at least he wasn't wearing a whole bunch of layers. And she had to admit her brother
did
look pretty good. Maybe not as good as he would bare-chested and squeezed into a tight pair of leather pants, but good. Which was saying something, since most guys couldn't pull that look off. Whenever Yvette saw a guy in a pair of ratty jeans and a too-tight T, especially one that was plain white, she wanted to slap a couple twenties in his hand and send him to the mall to get clothes suitable for a grown man. And tell him not to forget a good belt and a nice pair of shoes while he was at it. But Zach totally pulled it off. Probably because he had a simple, down-to-earth quality to him that she found intoxicating. Well, that and his great body. But the attitude helped. Even dressed like a boy, he didn't come across as immature. Not with that sexy beard and those wary eyes. No, he just didn't feel the need to impress anyone. He was who he was and that wasn't going to change.
Not even for Lady Winter.
Or so Yvette hoped. Because she really needed someone to keep her grounded.
Lance looked his brother up and down, snorted, and said, "Let's go."
"Like your outfit," Zach said to Yvette as he passed by her and headed down the stairs after Lance. He didn't even look to see how those three little words affected her.
She smiled to herself as she fell in behind him. There was no way he'd give her a second glance if they ran into each other on campus while she was dressed like that. Not that she'd ever let her pierced nipples show like that while walking around U-Dub, of course. But still. The missing bra wasn't the problem. She was way too goth for him. But at least here, in this cold world, she thought he meant what he said. And though they'd just spent hours in bed together, leaving little doubt that he was kinda into her, that somehow meant a lot.
The warmth of that smile soon faded.
By day, the palace was coldly beautiful. Now that it was dark, though, the walls and floors no longer seemed so charming. And the complete lack of artificial light seemed downright creepy. She had a few lamps in her room, but there were none in the halls. Nor any torches, unsurprisingly. Something told Yvette that no fire, however small, had ever burned inside that palace. But for the ball of blue light ahead of her father, then, they'd not be able to see a thing. Would have no idea who or what lurked in the shadows all around them.
They must have wandered those cold, dark halls for an hour. Maybe two. For all Yvette knew, they went round and round in circles, speaking hardly a word the whole time. But eventually, Lance led them up a long flight of stairs to the top of a tower that no doubt made hers look like little more than a parapet.
Music drifted down the stairwell to greet them. A fiddle, Yvette thought, though she didn't know her instruments too well. The melody was sad, haunting. If she didn't know who they were going to meet, she might almost have expected to find a ghost waiting for them at the top. Or perhaps the queen was forcing some long dead soul to play for her while she waited. From what they'd heard about Lady Winter, it wouldn't surprise Yvette in the least to discover that death was no escape from her icy clutches.
When they finally reached the last few stairs, she saw a man of flesh and blood working a gleaming bow across the strings of a golden fiddle. Like Lance, he wore nothing more than a pair of leather breeches. He had a broad back, strong shoulders, and arms that would have been better suited to working a hammer and anvil than a delicate musical instrument. He was every bit as pale and hairy as her brothers, and the ponytail falling well past his shoulders was no less black, but neither Zach nor even Lance had quite as much muscle.
At the other end of the room stood the most beautiful woman Yvette had ever seen, sipping from a silver chalice and staring off at nothing while the music washed over her. Lady Winter wore a black dress whose tight bodice accentuated her vast bosom and ridiculously narrow waist yet which hung loosely from the hips down, pooling at her feet like spilled blood. Her skin was whiter than white, her hair darker than night, her eyes bright blue and her lips the same dark shade as Lena's. Yvette felt she might go blind just looking at her. No woman should be allowed to be that gorgeous. Or have a body that perfect.
The man by the wall stopped playing. He turned and looked at the new arrivals and Yvette saw at once that he too had the queen's blood coursing through his veins. She'd suspected as much, but those blue eyes made it a certainty in her mind. Plus, his facial features were very similar to Zach's. Though he was perhaps a little more handsome.
He could stand to grow his beard out a bit more though.
If his eyes lingered more on Yvette than Lena, that was only because he'd never met her before. Had to be. A man like him couldn't be drawn to a girl like her. Especially not if he shared his bed with the woman who evidently found his music so enchanting.
Still, she got chills when she felt his eyes roaming over her body.
"Don't stop," the queen told him.
Without a word, he turned his back to them once more. His bow then resumed its dance, filling the room with sounds that could break the strongest heart. Words could not describe the sense of loss and longing he pulled out of those strings.
"Don't mind Quincy," their mother told the four of them as she swept across the small room, moving so gracefully that Yvette wondered if her feet even touched the floor. Assuming she had any. "He can be a little nosy, but he does as I tell him."
