A Queen for the Frost Giant (Legends of Rahasia Book 0)

Chapter One

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The Present

I memorized the legend of Idriola at the age of eight. I was locked up in my room all day. There wasn't much else to do other than dream that my lungs worked properly and that I didn't choke to death from cold air.

It was rumored, long ago, that Idriola once ruled the seas. A legendary sea warrior, riding dragon-headed boats, wished to settle her bones after many long, bloody years of looting. She threw her spear into the snow and wrestled a jötunn, a giant made of ice, so that her warriors would not be devoured in the night. She won the title of Ruler of the Jötnar by defeating the king in combat. The giants, despairing at the loss of their leader, moved their kingdom far beneath the icy sea. Only the most loyal family of the giant king stayed for execution. The firstborn son, tired from fighting his captors, fell into a deep sleep beneath the mountain. His skin toughened into purest ice; his heart so frozen that none could thaw it.

From the bones of the royal giants, Cloelia Crispus Regina, of fiery red hair, ordered that the dragon boats be broken apart to build a home. The home became a citadel, and within its spiked walls, a village for trade and commerce. From all their years of invading, they had a store of pillaged diamonds, gold, and silver. These they buried in the treasury beneath the mines of the mount. The giant's blood became veins of magma, from which the greatest weaponry was forged. And the Idriolans, once known as the most fearsome sea pirates in the world, became infamous for their silverwork and jewelry-making. A few went rogue, and tiring from domesticity, followed Cloelia's unfaithful lover, Julius, in an attempt to overthrow her.

Cloelia ripped out his heart in response and banished the insurrectionists to exile at sea. (Hence, how the tradition of the Heart-Renders' Tournament came about. But that's another story). She was my many-greats grandmother, twelve generations ago. I will wear her crown upon my brow when I bear a wound in sacrifice for another. This is how things are done.

For now, I am Cassia Boadicea Dominus. The only blood I've sacrificed has been from my monthly bleeding, and the only war I've fought in is the one where I tell my dog Lila that she really must stop sleeping on my bed and clothes.

Like now, for instance.

"Lila. No, move over." A gray-freckled nose whuffs in my face as I roll over, burrowing my head in my pillow. "Get over, you great beast."

I roll her a little, wincing at her size. About the size of a man if she stands, with a patchy white and gray coat and a tail that tends to knock over all manner of books and glasses. "You're not a puppy anymore." At this admonishment, she sets her giant head in my lap. "Lila!"

I can't stay mad for long as she leaps up, places her great paws on my shoulders, and laps at me with that slobbery tongue. "You idiot."

"Well now, that's not very nice, is it?"

Lila whines and bounds up to the newcomer. I cease laughing and leap from the bed to my feet, hastily wiping away any bits of fur that Lila got on my dress. "Lord Kazmer! I didn't realize you'd be visiting today." I stop fussing with the dress as he walks closer, his hands behind his back as he stands to military attention. His mother was from Rahasia, granting him some level of familiarity with the opposing Empire. She gifted him his gold skin and the power in his eyes, his quick wit and talent. He was trained with the scholars of Rahasia and only just recently returned. Obviously, he's the talk of the palace. He speaks many languages, is well-versed in poetry, and adores...

"Silver! That silverwork is divine." I can't help but gasp when I see the metal-forged rose that he holds out before him. It's so delicate that I nearly don't take the stem for fear of breaking it.