Read Online The Fairy Letters: A FROST Series(TM) Novel by Kailin Gow - Free Book Online Page B

her love for her children, her fears for them – not as heirs
but as her son and daughter – in a way that she could not even speak about with
her own husband. Raine brought out a strange kindness, softness – even
tenderness – in my mother, qualities that while unfamiliar to me and to many
who know her, I know now my mother possesses deep down. It was little surprise
to me then to find that, only recently, it was my mother who gave yours
hospitality and protection. Their friendship had once flowered – and even now
it flowers again. Of course, much has changed in between. My mother grew so
much colder and harder after my father's death – would she, I wonder, been as
able to forge Raine's friendship had she met Raine after that tragic event?
    Ah,
Breena – how difficult it is to talk of our parents! Their stories, their loves
and desires and pain and ambitions, have shaped us – we cannot escape them. And
yet when we look at our reflections, we see their faces staring back at us.
Will we make the choices they have made – or forge new paths?

 
     
    Letter 9
     
    My
Dearest Breena,
    In
my last missive to you I spoke of our mothers – the Winter Queen and Raine
Malloy, two women who could not be more different. And yet, since I have penned
that letter, my thoughts have turned rather to my father – and to yours – to
the other halves of that strange equation that brought us both into being. I
cannot imagine what it must have been like for you to grow up without knowledge
of your own. For me, the absence of my father, his death, is like a black line
severing my past from my presence, my childhood from this cold, hard world of
men. I still think about him often – not only about my father but about the world
he represented – the world before the war, the world before the pain.
    There
is one memory of my father that particularly stands out – amid the blur of
memories I have of him: his gruff voice, his silver beard, his long furs that
smelled of pine and fir, that kept him at once regal and warm in the heart of
the freezing tundra. It was a few months after your departure, and while the
war had begun, it was hardly as dangerous as it would come to be after the
Winter Massacre that spelled the beginning of the end for peace-time. My father
wished to lead an expedition out to one of our Spring outposts, a small village
called Juniper that, while in the Spring territories, was inhabited by a mix of
Winter and Spring Fey, many of whom had intermarried over the years. “We want
to fortify the place,” said my father. “If the Summer Fairies attack here, the
good people of Juniper could be in very great danger. Summer isn't too happy
with Winter at the moment – and the Spring fairies still loyal to Summer look
upon the residents of Juniper as traitors. I want to send a regiment of troops
down there to keep watch – and build an extra ring of fortifications around the
area. And son,” he clapped me on the shoulder. “I want you to do it with me.”
    It
was my first real mission. I had done practice-fighting before – and trained
until my muscles and limbs ached with the exertion – but I had not yet embarked
upon a military campaign. I felt a subtle thrill at the promise of leaving the
palace grounds – the boyish desire for adventure rose up in me, and I beamed
with pride at my father's trust in me.
    “You're
getting big now,” he said. “A strapping lad like you is ready to see some real
action!” Yet as we rode through the snowy drifts his tone grew more somber.
“Yet don't forget, my boy,” he said, kicking his heels into the side of the
horse, “this is no game. These are real fairies we'll be fighting, flesh and
blood – we must never lose sight of that. This is nothing to make sport of. You
may have won against your fellow lads in fencing – but this is different. There
is a sacred magic in killing – solemn and deep, and not to be made light of.
Can you remember that, my boy?”
    I
nodded.