CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ambrosia’s even lovelier in the light of the castle, though I immediately spot her tell. Her nose is turned up at the very end, almost as if she’s trying to conceal a great, long snout with her magic.
She flounces around Henri’s room, telling me exactly when to expect him back again this evening. When she catches me studying her, the princess covers her face with her hand. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
“No…” I cringe as I slowly say the word.
With a loud groan, she flops her tall, willowy frame into a nearby chair. “Don’t bother lying. We have mirrors after all—I can see it. No matter how I try, I can’t conceal it.”
“I didn’t notice in the woods.” This time, it’s the truth.
“Yes, I suppose it could be worse,” she admits with a lazy shrug.
She sits there for so long, I begin to wonder if she’s going to leave. Henri’s already in the dining hall, playing dutiful house guest—and all to protect me. It’s not that surprising he’s angry I’m here.
I’m afraid he’ll have to get over it.
“I should go,” Ambrosia says after several long minutes.
As she stands, I open my mouth only to close it again.
“Spit it out,” she says, catching me.
“You’re not what I expected,” I admit.
Her eyes light with amusement. “Not all trolls are like my mother.”
“Are most of them?”
After all, I’d like to know what I’m up against.
“Yes, most are.” She grins at me as she opens the door behind her. “Best not answer the door. In fact, hide under the bed.”
“For how long?” I ask, aghast.
“Only until Henri returns.”
“And how long will that—”
I’m answered by the slamming door.
I look around the room, wondering if there is somewhere else I could hide. Left with no other option, I scoot under the bed.
Ten o’clock goes by and then eleven. Somewhere before midnight, I doze off.
The door swings open and voices sound in the room. I wake with such a start, I knock my head on the frame and have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out.
With every one of my muscles tensed and ready to flee, I listen to the brief conversation Henri has with his stepmother.
“You must convince her,” the troll queen insists when Henri points out Ambrosia has refused to marry him every night he’s asked for her hand.
“If you cannot, I promise the human girl you left in Briadell will suffer for your lack of perseverance.”
With that, the door closes. Still, I don’t dare move.
After several long moments, Henri whispers, “Sophie?”
Relieved, I crawl on my belly, scooting from under the bed like a weasel. Before I can find my feet, Henri pulls me into his arms and holds me tightly. “You are a foolish, foolish girl,” he whispers into my hair. “How did you find me?”
I tell him of the fairies, and though my tale isn’t long, by the end, he’s yawning.
“I’m sorry.” I gently poke him in the side, chastising him with a teasing scowl. “Am I boring you with the details?”
He shakes his head, but he fights a yawn yet again. “She must have drugged me at dinner.”
That’s inconvenient.
“What will we do?” For the first time, I hear the fear in my voice. We need to escape.
We need to escape tonight.
Henri pulls me to the bed, unable to keep his eyes open. “We’ll discuss it in the morning.”
I burrow close to him, but I don’t dare sleep. I jump at every noise—every creak, every gust of wind outside the tall, slender windows.
Near morning, I try to wake Henri, but it’s an impossible task. The troll queen’s magic is too potent.
Just after dawn, as I’m lying on my side, staring at Henri, willing him to wake, I hear footsteps outside the door.
I leap from the bed, looking for a place to dart as the door swings open.
Ambrosia stands on the other side, key in hand, shaking her head. “Now what would you have done if I’d been my mother?”
“You didn’t tell me the queen would give him a sleeping draught!” I hiss as I fight back my fright.
The pretty troll shrugs. “You didn’t ask.”
Wrinkling my nose, I stare at her.
Ambrosia’s response sounds an awful lot like something I would say. No wonder Father’s always so irritated with me.
“Well, you didn’t.” She laughs at the sour look on my face. “And now you have to leave because Mother will be along any minute.”
And that’s when I hear it—the ominous sound of the troll queen screeching at a servant down the hall.
“Where should I go?” I demand.
Ambrosia shrugs again. “Out the window?”
“We’re in a tower!”
“Therefore, I suggest you watch your step.”
Even though there is no time to waste, I gawk at her, certain she must be joking. When she makes a “scoot along” gesture with her hand, I realize she’s not.
Growling under my breath, I hurry to the window and toss the dappled glass open. Then I look over my shoulder, glaring at the troll princess. “There’s a balcony just under us.”
“Of course there is. What did you think? That I’d expect you to sprout wings?” She grins and gives me a shove.
I cast Henri one last rueful look, and then I crawl out the window, down to the safety of the terrace below. The morning wind is bitter from traveling the nearby icy peaks, and it bites at my hands and face.
Shivering, I drop to the balcony and realize I left Henri’s cloak in the room. Just as my feet touch the frosted stones, Ambrosia pokes her head out the window. “Watch for the snow griffins. They roost this time of year, and they’re not particularly friendly.”
“What are—”
The princess closes the window, cutting off my question.
Why do people keep doing that to me?
Frustrated, I rub my hands over my crossed arms for warmth and scan the turrets, looking for signs of the griffins Ambrosia spoke of. There’s a stray gray feather on the stone rail that could be from a griffin—or most likely a pigeon—but I don’t catch a single glimpse of the beasts themselves.
Sunlight, warm and welcoming, crests the eastern peaks. It shines down on the wooded valley, stretching all the way into the distance, chasing away the night. I angle my face toward it, grateful it’s a cloudless morning.
After several minutes, I look around. No stairs lead to the balcony, and the tower is built of smooth, slick stones that would be impossible to climb. Glancing behind me, I frown. There’s a door, one I most likely don’t want to enter. Looking up, I try to decide if I could crawl back to Henri’s window in a while.
Alas, it’s a little too high.
Left with no choice, I try the door. As I feared, it’s locked. I’m trapped here, waiting for Henri or Ambrosia to rescue me. Of course, Henri doesn’t know where I’m at, so I suppose I must rely on the kindness of the troll princess.
Once the sun melts the frost, I sit with my back against the wall and look out over the forest. Steam rises from a nearby river. It’s half-covered in ice, beautiful, and serene.
As harsh as it is, Elsland is breathtaking. If the trolls didn’t guard it so tenaciously, surely a human king would claim it for his own. I draw my legs to my chest in a feeble attempt to keep warm and take in the scenery, all the while planning an escape that is looking less likely by the minute.
I’m fortunate I got here at all. What did I expect? That I’d show up undetected and spirit Henri away?
“Little human?” a now-familiar voice calls from Henri’s room. “Still down there?”
Not bothering to stand, I crane my head up to look at Ambrosia. “There are no stairs, and the door is locked. Where did you expect me to go?”
“Hmmm.”
That all she says. Hmmm.
“Do you think you could unlock the door?” I ask, my frozen fingers and toes making me lose my patience.
She sets her elbow on the ledge, drops her chin in her palm, and nods. The motion makes the sun catch her perfectly-spiraled ringlets. “I could.”
I wait a moment.
“Will you, please?” I say once I realize she’s not going to make this easy.
Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, Ambrosia opens the door.
“Where’s Henri?” I demand as soon as I walk over the threshold.
“I have an errand,” Ambrosia says absently, ignoring my question as she leads me through what appears to be a seldom-used sitting room. The drapes are pulled, and the room is quite dark and depressing. “You’ll come with me.”
Stopping by a linen-covered chair, I set my hands on my hips. “You think so, do you?”
The pretty troll looks over her shoulder. “Do you have something better to do? I’m not sure you want to wander around the palace. Most of us have lost our taste for humans, but the elders still remember the glorious days of old.” She leans close, her eyes bright, and says conspiratorially, “Rumor has it you taste like chickens.”
I cringe. “You’re bluffing.”
Ambrosia shrugs. “Your choice.”
And then she walks through the door, into the hall. I tap my finger on my hip, frowning.
Trolls don’t eat humans. They curse us, blight us, set our villages ablaze. But they don’t eat us.
Do they?
Another few seconds go by.
“Ambrosia!” I hurry through the room, scurrying after the troll princess.