Frigid: Frost Boarding House 1

Chapter 1 /Part 2

CAMILLA RUSHED FROM THE HOUSE AND AROUND TO THE APPLE ORCHARD.

Leif will understand. Leif will be on my side, she thought as she let the fear of what those dragon scales might have become catch and spread like winter frost along the forest floor. The thought about what might have happened if Aline Dracul hadn’t stopped the change gripped Camilla with a terror that churned cold within her. But she would not need to fear if only her father saw reason. She allowed her fear to morph and shift into anger and frustration toward him as she tramped through the leaves and sticks between the trees. Each step spiraling her bitter outrage further.

Most boarders who had come to Frost Boarding House, her home, had become amiable acquaintances, dear friends, and some were practically family.

Leif Villers was family.

Ten years ago, Leif came to help in the orchard for free room and board, but had become more than just the help. Camilla sometimes had to remind herself that he wasn’t actually her older brother, but she’d never think of him as anything less.

“Leif will talk sense into father,” she said to herself. “He has to.” Father trusted and listened to Leif. Mr. Frost viewed Leif Villers as the son he never had. It was not yet written, but Leif would inherit the boarding house and orchard if Camilla’s future husband had no desire for it. She couldn’t imagine her father trusting anyone as well as he trusted Leif in a matter so close to his heart.

Camilla walked halfway through the orchard before catching sight of her dark-haired, blue eyed, not quite brother.

“Leif!” she called, injecting anger into her voice. “Leif! You must talk some sense into Father!” But then she caught sight of the person with him. Copper toned curls tied up to perfection. Gemma MacLugh.

Dear, sweet Gemma. Another boarder-turned family.

It didn’t look like they were in an untoward situation, and nothing official had ever been spoken between the pair, but it embarrassed Camilla to be interrupting the precious moment between Leif and his almost fiancée. Wedding bells were certainly in Leif and Gemma’s near future and though she had only known Gemma a little over a month, they felt almost as sisters with a lifetime of shared memories. Her brother could not have picked a better person to fall in love with.

It tempted Camilla to back away and give the couple privacy—her cause could wait—but she’d already made her presence known by calling out to Leif, so she slowed, but continued to walk.

As always, Gemma did not seem annoyed or angered by the interruption. The smile on her face was genuine as she touched the green leaf-shaped brooch rimmed with diamonds at her throat. The one she always wore. Gemma was the best person Camilla knew. It wasn’t a surprise that Camilla felt such a close kinship to her in such a short time.

Leif shot Camilla a withering look but he’d been her brother for ten years, he’d earned the right to be agitated.

When Gemma took a moment to check Leif’s expression, Camilla offered an apologetic half-smile, but she was almost certain it was Gemma’s influence that wiped the look away from his face. She resisted the urge to smile wider. Still, she would get half a tongue-lashing from him when his beloved was away.

As she neared, Leif resumed the pruning he’d clearly abandoned in favor of time with Gemma.

“What ails you, Camilla?” Leif asked with a small amount of irritation lacing his tone.

The question re-surfaced the icy anger. “Some new boarders just arrived.”

“Yes, I assisted with their trunks, but your father had said he was expecting some several days ago,” Leif said, matter-of-fact, his eyes glued to his work.

“He was expecting them?”

“He received a wire last week of their impending arrival.”

“And did it say who was coming?” Camilla put her hands on her hips and furrowed her eyebrows. She resisted the urge to pitch a fit the way she did when she was younger. Leif brought out the less-mature side of Camilla. He could be so grating.

Leif shrugged, then finally turned to look at her. His expression fell into the familiar one that pointed out her childishness, which always made her even more angry with him. She dropped her hands and attempted to calm her nerves and keep her voice even.

“Aline Dracul. And her protection guard.”

Camilla didn’t fail to notice Gemma’s eyes widen. She knew the name and disapproved too! Camilla wanted to pull Gemma to her side, to announce that Gemma also thought the changers were dangerous, but the worried glance directed at Leif stopped her. Gemma didn’t want Leif to know of her opinion?

She would have to ask her about that later.

“I am not familiar with the name,” Leif said.

Camilla threw her hands in the air and resisted the urge to pull the pins from her hair. “It is because you have not read the society section!” She was being irrational and she knew it, but couldn’t help herself. “And that shouldn’t matter anyway, because anyone of their kind should not be boarding here!”

“Of their kind?” Leif pressed.

“Changers,” Camilla whispered and glanced at Gemma for a reaction she didn’t get. How she wished Gemma came into her life sooner. If they were more familiar, Gemma might read Camilla’s thoughts with a glance. “The dragon kind.”

“They are Romanian royalty,” Gemma said. “In a broad sense, but Aline is in the direct line. Her father is the youngest brother and so would never rule in any capacity.”

She spoke as if that fact made Aline’s presence less bothersome.

Gemma and Leif shared another look.

“Leif?” Camilla pressed.

“I trust Mr. Frost’s judgment,” he said.

The traitor.

Camilla huffed, then stomped off to look for her mother.

She found her in the kitchen in her element: orchestrating preparations for the midday meal and making masterful pastries worthy of Clark County awards. If she’d been in a better mood, she would have asked to help.

“Aline Dracul might be a changer, but she is not a monster. None of them are monsters,” Jane Frost said with a smudge of flour on her cheek. “In this boarding house, we turn away no one. No matter their station, no matter their appearance, no matter their gifts.”

It was hard to argue that. Camilla agreed that they should accept all people at the house. Those who could not pay the full rate would help with cleaning or laundry or grounds work. Those who didn’t speak English or had a different color of skin were never offered a lesser room if the best was available. Camilla was proud to know people from all walks of life and from all corners of the Earth came to stay at the boarding house.

But changers?

Most guests were from different parts of the western United States such as California, Oregon and different parts of Washington. A few came from farther away: Illinois, New York—like Gemma—or the Carolina’s, but they’d also housed and fed Egyptians and Arabs, Chinese and British.

But they weren’t changers. None of them had ever been changers.

Camilla suspected when the Johnson Boarding House, who housed the occasional changer, went out of business that this could be a possibility. A possibility, but never a reality. Especially since the Dulcet House was still in running operation. It was practically a well-known fact that Mr. Dulcet was some type of were so housing changers wasn’t an impropriety for his establishment. Camilla stayed away from all the Dulcets out of her own self-preservation, even though Michael Dulcet was a childhood friend.

She never dreamed in her wildest nightmares that her father would actually accept anyone of their kind. He’d never done it before. Like the gentleman he was, her father was cordial to Mr. Dulcet, but she never thought he’d actually allow a changer to stay under their roof.

And then her father, her mother, and even Leif acted like she was in the wrong. No doubt Grandmother Frost was rolling in her grave.

Camilla skulked off to hide amongst the apple crates along the side of the house. There was a small nook where she was completely concealed unless someone walked right past her. She’d hidden there whenever she needed a moment of reprieve, or whenever something injured her pride. Which happened more often than she’d like to admit.

Camilla contemplated if there was somewhere else where she might stay the night. Visions of fire-eating monsters with purple scales tearing the house apart brick-by-brick and dismembering the guests and her family right in front of her invaded her thoughts. Grandmother Frost told her stories. She’d experienced the nightmares.

She shivered.

The family of her old friend Rebecca Edwards would allow her to stay a fortnight if she asked. If she left right now, she could be at the Edwards' house by the evening meal.

But what about her parents? And Gemma? What about Leif?

She couldn’t leave any of them behind.

Camilla huffed and tucked her knees in closer. It wasn’t a lady-like position, and her old governess would scold her if she saw. But she was concealed and her governess was long gone.

She nearly jumped out of her petticoats when a tall form entered her vision among the trees. He hadn’t seen her yet, as he was at least thirty feet away, but she recognized him and froze.

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