The worst nights had been when there was nowhere to sleep but the slums. Now, as Sanna walked through the streets of Vulfholm, looking into the eyes of the children sitting in alcoves, she saw her own life reflected in their eyes.
She had escaped the streets, but most of the children she had been with hadn't. And most of these children would never escape the streets either, unless something was done about the rising poverty in the nation.
If Sanna could change anything about her nation, it would be to ensure everyone in it had a roof over their head with adequate heating to survive the cold winter nights. Walking through the slums, she saw children and adults crouching around fires built on stacks of rubbish. The smell of burning rubber and smoke filled the air.
If Ari were here, she would have said, "We need to do something!" and she would have set her dragon to the task of bringing fresh water, or she would have recruited the strongest among those sitting in the firelight to erect better shelters over the heads of the sick, or she would have rushed back to the palace to bring piles of blankets and food.
But in the face of this despair Sanna felt frozen with helplessness. She couldn't help them all. Every day thousands of new people flocked into the city from the countryside, hoping uselessly they could find work and money in the city after their crops had failed on their farms.
Had she truly forgotten that this was the plight of her people? When she had been in the palace of Vulfholm as a child it had been so easy to forget that the world outside still existed as she remembered in her nightmares. In Lombardia the streets of Vulfholm had seemed so far away. In Kakaio, a marriage to a prince had seemed the most important thing. But these people remained, in squalor, and she had forgotten them.
These were the conditions that pushed the Norrlish people to revolt against their queen. They had survived winter, but their hopes of spring had been dashed with the continuous grey skies. More and more people were flocking into the city from the countryside, where the crops had failed and there was no food. They needed help to live, desperately, and Katja couldn't see that.
Sanna had wanted Katja to join her here today. She had thought if Katja saw just how terrible the conditions were in the slums of her own city, she would feel something other than resentment towards her own people. But Katja had refused, telling Sanna that she needed to rest before tonight.
Tonight.
Sanna had practically begged the queen. Katja had once listened to Sanna, but now she was resolute in her decision. The rebels who had burned down the Darhùs house would be brought to justice. And the justice would be the same justice Katja's grandmother had served all those years ago.
An old fashioned beheading was coming to Vulfholm once again, on the palace steps at midnight. Sanna tried to convince her queen that punitive measures would only have a negative affect. Her people would hate her more and would rebel more. She knew her people didn't respect her, and rather than work hard for their respect, she would do the easy thing to earn their fear.
Sigrún nudged Sanna's arm, and Sanna softened into the warmth of her wolf's touch. She had spent too long here, she realised, and Sigrún was trying to tell her that. The sky was dark now, and she could hear the sound of breaking glass. The slums were full of desperate people, and sometimes that made them unsafe. She didn't think these people were inherently bad. She had lived among them as a child, and she had known them to be just as kind as anyone in the world. But hungry people grew desperate, and desperate people did dangerous things.
It was time to go, if she was going to make it back to the palace on time.
Sanna pulled herself onto her wolf's back and the two of them took off into the oppressive sky. There wasn't much difference between day and night, because of that strange dry fog that had come over Norrlund. Sanna was certain that a bit of rain could surely clear the air, but all they'd had so far since winter was more snow, that drifted down in thick grey clumps full of ash from volcanoes.
She landed on such grey snow on the lawn of the palace, amidst a crowd of starrlings and their kinnlings. The nobility and upper class folk of Norrlund had arrived to witness the first public act of their queen since her coronation.
Down the hill, the ordinary folk of Norrlund had come too, although they were kept back from the palace by thick fences and the Wolfguard, who patrolled along the crowd, looking for trouble. Children climbed into trees that still hadn't blossomed with spring, to get a glimpse of the queen.
Sanna knew her hair smelled of smoke from the burning fires in the slums, and she knew her cloak was old and tattered - better for her to walk through the slums like that - but now she didn't care what she looked like as she pushed to the front of the starrlings crowd to see the steps of the palace.
There were four young ords lined up on the steps, with their hands tied behind their backs. Sanna recognised one of them as a young woman, perhaps in her twenties, who had thrown a stone in the direction of Queen Katja. Her companions were three men. While the men looked down at their feet, the woman held her chin high as she stared into the crowd.
Sanna felt a shiver as the woman's gaze swept over her. For a moment it felt as if their gazes met, but in another flash it was gone.
Snow fell in grey clumps over the crowd just as the queen emerged from the palace. For the first time since her coronation, she wore the full regalia - a silver crown, the white bear fur coat, and held the ruby-incrested sceptre. She rode astride her wolf, Helvig, who was also dressed in a silver helmet and blood red material draped across her back like a cloak.
"My people," Katja called out across the crowd. "Not since the Fire War have we seen such a dark time for our nation. We remain undefeated against those external forces who wish us harm. But a threat from within our ranks may be the most dangerous of all. Without knowing the true killer of my mother, I must remain forever vigilant of threats from within my own borders. And now I have seen that my vigilance is not without reason. These four traitors before you have been found guilty of plots of rebellion. They have threatened the family of Darhùs and in doing so, they have threatened the throne of Norrlund. Today, we shall enact justice, so that we all may sleep a little sounder tonight."
Snow settled on the shoulders and bent heads of the four traitors. Sanna felt her heart in her throat. The crowd was shuffling now, there was an energy in the air. The Wolfguard kept the crowd contained. Huge wolves paraded back and forth in the snow, while the queen watched over everything. There was a priest of the faith of light, waiting to say final rites.
It's not too late to stop this, said the voice in Sanna's head. The voice was Ari's. Angry, sharp, directed at Sanna.
But she would not march up the stairs and demand anything of her queen. That was not the way to persuade Katja. Katja was not logical or reasonable in the way that Sanna and Ari were. Katja led with her heart, and with her pride. Right now, her pride was winning.
When it happened, it was not the cacophony of the crowd or the swirling of snow in the air that she would remember. It wasn't the white seagulls erupting into the sky, startled by the swift slash of ice magic through the air, or the howl of wolves. In the end, what she would remember, when she woke up in a sweat that night, was the look on the face of the woman. Only a few years older than their Little Queen, she held her chin high until the executioner's final slice of ice magic, and her eyes remained dry.
Sanna felt frozen in her spot in the crowd that writhed around her like one big beast, twisting and snapping, trying to get past the wolfguard who held them back. The wolfguard moved with force, pushing with ice and snow back against the crowd, until they had no choice but to retreat.
Sanna needed a moment to get out of the crowd, and when she looked back towards the palace, she saw that Queen Katja had gone. The only ones remaining high up on the steps were the executioner and two women who were now tasked with the gruesome task of clearing the remains.
When Sanna found Katja, she was in her room, eating strawberries dipped in cream, and looking at a map. There were documents spread across the table, and a smorgasbord of sweets, cakes and sandwiches for the queen on silver trays.
"Sanna," Katja said, as soon as she entered.
Sanna had wanted to talk to her about the executions. She had assumed that that was what would be on Katja's mind, after all. It was the first time Katja had ordered the killing of anyone. Wouldn't the guilt be eating at her?
"Your majesty," Sanna said softly.
"I've been thinking about the liquid star," Katja said, licking cream off her fingers. "The reason the Lombardians want it so much. The reason the Kaio protect it so fiercely. It's power, is it not? A true source of power. The power of fire and ice."
Sanna swallowed.
"This winter is the longest we've ever seen," Katja said. "I fear it will never end. The air is full of smoke, because every one of my people has a fire in their hearth at all hour of the day. But we are not fire starrlings, are we? So why do we rely on fire for heat?"
"I'm not sure," Sanna said, but Katja didn't even acknowledge her words.
"Look at these diagrams," Katja said. "I've had a woman here explaining her designs. Her heating employs steam and oil, see? She's shown me how it's far better to burn oil than it is to burn wood in a hearth. And what is oil? The liquid star. Oil and steam. That's how we'll keep our people warm. It's what Raphael suggested last year. I want it to be his legacy. We shall invest heavily in installing oil furnaces and steam radiators in the palace and those buildings I see fit."
"And the oil will come from Reunsgar?"
"Reunsgar isn't the only place with oil," Katja said. "The icelands are full of it. If I'm told correctly, one simply needs to drill a hole in the ice and this liquid star bubbles out, ready for use. It's true power."
"True power," Sanna repeated.
Katja's cheeks were flushed. "My rule will be one of industry and enterprise, Sanna. Hear me now. I shall make my nation flush with warmth and wealth. When my people needn't spend time cutting trees for their fires, then they will use that time in far more productive ways. Invention and technology! That is the way of the future."
Katja took another strawberry, and dipped it in cream before popping it into her mouth. She grinned, and leaned back on her velvet sofa. "I'm practically brimming with optimism, my friend."
Queen Katja had not seen the way the people in the streets hated her. She had not seen the violence erupt after the public execution. She had not watched as blood was scrubbed from the stones. Blood spilled by her own hands.
But she was brimming with optimism. And in this way at least, Sanna felt that her intentions were clear.
Sanna sat down beside her, and took a strawberry. "May your reign be filled with optimism, Queen Katja, and industry and enterprise."
Katja laughed in delight. "And power," she said, holding a strawberry aloft. "True power."