Frozen. Morgan Q O'Reilly

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      So this wasn’t Hell, eh? Could have fooled her.

      Never say never. The words from the old man came back to haunt her again.

      Had Coreen planned this? Had she set up this particular conveyance? Probably.

      Noreen wiggled in her seat and laid her head against the shoulder strap of the harness holding her in place. At least she wouldn’t be tumbled into Duke Zaren’s arms again. She’d bet her next case of Lidarian mint brandy he’d tipped the transport on purpose. So much for remaining pure until he met The One. And she only had half a case left anyway.

      Biting her lip in annoyance, she closed her eyes against the darkening sky. Barely past mid-day, it was already black as night elsewhere and would remain so for the next nineteen hours and fifty-five minutes. Not bad for a planet with twenty hour days. Winter. Why, if she had to come back at all, why did it have to be in the deepest part of winter? Ruthlessly she tamped down on the panic wailing to break away from her tight control.

      With her eyes still closed, she thought back to that day, oh so long ago, when her world had tilted, only to land her in her current circumstances. She’d been sliding for ten years, fighting and clawing to avoid the destiny thrust upon her by the old man with the wild, silver eyes.

      She’d been at the summer house, enjoying the very short season when the sun provided warmth to the frozen world of Nordia. The small island on the equator, where the house was located, was only suitable to inhabit during the three months of warmth. The ocean around it was never warm enough for swimming. Not for her anyway, although others braved it and teased her for preferring the thermal pool. Nevertheless, she’d enjoyed the gardens with the tall trees, the green a blessed relief from the stark white she lived with the rest of the year.

      Her sisters all teased her about her quest for warmth, but that was their way, everyone joining in and no one immune. With names all similar, Noreen often led the teasing of Coreen, Loreen, Doreen, Moreen, Toreen, Boreen, Soreen, Zoreen, and Joreen.

      What had her father been thinking? Ten daughters, all named the same except for the first letter and the copious middle names. It was madness. At least he hadn’t named them alphabetically. That would have made them all so much easier to track. Although all their mothers hated the chaos of it, the girls had grown to love it, and all answered to the call of Reen when the dinner bell rang.

      But there must have been a method to his madness. None of Bjorn’s lesser subjects, and damn few of the nobility, could remember who was the true crown princess. Indeed, it worked to Noreen’s advantage that Fader had purposely never been clear on that subject at all. At least, not until they’d all started reaching the age of majority. She may not have hung around, but she’d sporadically stayed in touch and remained aware of the current status.

      Coreen was the better princess anyway. She’d been the one who’d excelled in political studies, while Noreen had stared out the window and daydreamed of ways to stay warm year round. While Coreen argued political policy with their father, Noreen had buried her nose in every travel brochure or picture book she could wheedle her father into getting for her. Planets with warm seas had drawn her attention like no others. If the ocean water wasn’t at least body temperature, she shunned it completely. By age fourteen, she’d had a list nearly as long as she was tall of all the worlds she wanted to visit. She even had a few picked out as possible permanent residences.

      While Coreen strode the halls of Parliament, absorbing the laws of the land, their father had indulged Noreen by letting her decorate her apartments with sun lights and potted trees from exotic worlds. He’d even let her turn the vast thermal pool room into her vision of a tropical paradise, complete with an imported-sand beach and brightly painted murals for all to enjoy. Ancient stone columns had become the trunks of palms and banana trees, each surrounded by bushes of sweet flowers that bloomed year round. Colorful birds had brought music to the air with their sweet songs and a small team of gardeners had kept it perfect.

      Was it still like that? Were her rooms untouched? Or had Fader completely disowned her as threatened? No, he would have cut off her allowance if she’d been disowned. Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d done nothing to help Nordia while she was away. Just six months ago, the latest in planet-wide communications had been installed because she’d seen it demonstrated on Earth’s most recently-colonized planet the year before.

      She felt a small wave of shame as she thought of the trouble she’d put her family through. It had all started at a summer party to celebrate the sixteenth birthday of the crown princess, and she’d been wandering amongst the birch trees at the edge of the gardens.

      It caused her father no small amount of pain that his eldest daughter shunned the spotlight of society and royal obligation. Noreen had argued endlessly, not only with her parents but Coreen as well, that it wasn’t her fault she’d been born five minutes earlier than her sister. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t suited to rule. Because of her tearful pleas, the ceremony naming her crown princess on their sixteenth birthday had been held in secret, with only the old bishop, her parents and Coreen in attendance. To the rest of the world Coreen was the crown princess, and Noreen had no intention of ever spoiling the perception. Why couldn’t Coreen and Fader play along? Moder had long ago thrown up her hands and refused to discuss the old argument at all.

      Identical twins. It had been a good joke from the beginning. Fader had been more than happy to let the world believe one daughter had died. Only one was ever presented to the people at a time and she was always called simply The Princess. Never were their names used. Noreen suspected half the time, at least until they passed the age of five, her father couldn’t tell them apart. By then they’d developed distinct personalities and very individual traits were making themselves well known. Enough to confuse the few correspondents allowed into the palace. The growing collection of sisters just made the confusion worse. In effect, the young princesses became invisible to anyone outside the private household. The queen also insisted on keeping her daughters, and the daughters of the two concubines, secluded as much as possible. In truth, Noreen wondered if the people knew just how many children the king had and they supported.

      While her half sisters might not be eligible to be called Princess, they were given their own titles upon their age of majority. Loreen and Doreen were Duchesses and the others were Countesses, each with their own properties and incomes. And all were married now, with the exception of herself and Coreen.

      Which brought her back to the reason she was here under protest. Fader was dying, or so Cory had implied, and she wanted to marry. The old bishop insisted Noreen come home and fulfill her destiny as The One. Nordia had a right to know the true princess.

      Like bloody Hell would she let them make that announcement. She was home to renounce her title once and for all. Let Coreen carry on as next in line, as she was born to do.

      Noreen’s eyes grew heavier, the constant grinding groan of the transport lulling her into СКАЧАТЬ