“Sharpened candy canes are the only answer here.”
“Oh! We can make him walk barefoot across shattered ornaments!”
My dad and I sat next to each other at the conference room table and exchanged looks. With eighteen reindeer in the room, the suggestions for Silven’s consequences had gotten progressively more… creative.
“We aren’t going to torture him,” one of my dad’s reindeer pinched the bridge of her nose as if this wasn’t the first timean idea had spiraled out of control. “But he can’t stay here, Santa.”
My dad sighed, tapping the edge of his mug filled with hot chocolate.
I drummed my fingers against the polished conference table, watching these imposing magical beings go full bloodthirsty mob. It was like a corporate board meeting had merged with medieval court justice, except everyone had antlers.
“We could make him lick the candy cane forest. His tongue would stick, and he’d be there until spring thaw.” A man with auburn hair punctuated his point by snapping a gingerbread cookie’s head off.
A female reindeer with a tinsel-threaded braid leaned forward. “What about community service? Five thousand hours untangling Christmas lights?”
“With no magic,” another added.
I caught my dad’s eye, and we shared a look of amusement as the suggestions flew around us. There was something weirdly familiar about sitting beside Dad in a conference room that looked straight out of a Fortune 500 company, complete with a whiteboard where someone had actually written “Punishment Options” with a little smiley face next to it.
“So, is this what passes for criminal justice at the North Pole?” I leaned toward my dad, keeping my voice low. “Santa’s sweatshop for the naughty?”
Several heads turned in my direction, a few with raised eyebrows, while others smothered laughs behind mugs of hot chocolate.
Dad ran a hand through his silver hair, not quite hiding his smile. He took another sip from his mug, and I noticed the faint tremor in his hand. The magical shimmer surrounding him had dimmed since the morning. The situation we were dealing with didn’t help much with the joy needed to replenish his energy stores.
“We need to focus on practical solutions.” A female reindeer with silver at her temples tapped the table. “Strip him of his advisor status and remove all authority.”
“Permanent toy-testing duty.” Another nodded. “Let him suffer through squeaky toys for eternity.”
“The toy department doesn’t deserve that punishment,” Rudy muttered beside me, his jaw clenched.
Blitz gestured dramatically. “What about exile? Send him somewhere sunny. Like Florida.”
Pierce shook his head. “That’s crueler than the polar bear idea.”
The subtle shift in my mom’s posture shut everyone up. “Exile from the Pole seems most reasonable. Perhaps to Klarhaven, where he’ll be close enough if needed.”
“He shouldn’t have power over anyone ever again. Especially not young reindeer.” The memory of how Silven had treated Rudy made frost form along my fingertips.
Rudy flinched beside me, a barely perceptible movement that sent a ripple of pain through our bond. I reached under the table and found his hand, lacing my fingers through his. He squeezed, his thumb tracing small circles against my skin.
Dad nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’m inclined to agree with exile. But this decision can’t be about vengeance.” He looked around the table, making eye contact with each person. “We are Christmas. Even our justice must contain mercy.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “He caused me to lose control and get sent away for twelve years. He berated his own son. Where was mercy then?”
“Neve.” My mom’s voice was gentle but firm. “Leadership often means choosing what’s fair, not what feels good. That’s the burden of power.”
I sank back in my chair, conflicted.
Dad pushed himself to his feet. “Neve and I will find Silven and deliver the verdict.” He paused, looking at the assembled reindeer. “Exile to Klarhaven, stripped of his advisor status, with periodic review.”
Rudy stood beside me, his presence solid and unwavering. “I’m coming too.” His voice left no room for argument.
I looked between Rudy and my dad, warmth blooming inmy chest at Rudy’s determination to face his father. The magical bond hummed with support, each of my men silently backing him.
“Are you sure?” I squeezed Rudy’s hand, watching the muscle in his jaw flex.
Dad adjusted his red velvet coat with a nod. “We’ll set out after dinner.”
