“I don’t think he meant to.”
Kael’s brow lifted. “You’re defending him now?”
“I’m not.” I hesitated. “But I saw his face. It wasn’t just anger.”
“No,” Kael said quietly. “That’s the problem.”
He gave a shallow bow, half teasing, half solemn. “Try to rest, little flame. Tomorrow, they’ll start pretending this never happened. You might want to learn how.”
When he left, I stood for a long time in the quiet corridor, fingers still pressed to the torn edge of my dress. The frostlight in the walls glimmered faintly, bending my reflection until I looked like someone I didn’t recognize.
Fenrir whined softly, and I knelt, pressing a hand to his head. “It’s fine,” I whispered, though I didn’t believe it. “It’s over.”
But the wordovermeant something different in Winter.Here, nothing melted unless it wanted to.
Unsurprisingly, the corridors outside the great hall were quieter than they had any right to be. The sounds of the feast had dulled to a muted hum—music and laughter smothered beneath stone and snow. Every step I took echoed too loudly.
I’d almost made it to the stairs leading toward my chambers when his voice stopped me.
“You disobeyed me.”
Cold. Precise. The kind of voice that could turn a room to ice.
Kaelith stepped from the shadow of the gallery arch, his armor catching a sliver of frostlight. The faint gleam ran along the silver line on his glove—from wrist to fingertip.
I didn’t turn fully to face him. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’ve made something of a habit of that.”
He came closer, deliberate steps that echoed in the silence. “I told you not to involve yourself in Court affairs.”
“And yet,” I said, my voice steady, “I wasinyour Court’s affairs—like it or not.”
“Your place,” he said, each word sharp, “was to observe. To stay silent.” Then lower, he added, “Not to dance with my brother.”
“My place,” I snapped, turning to face him now, “was apparently to be humiliated while you sat and watched.”
His jaw tightened, muscle shifting under pale skin. For a moment, the frostlight around him dimmed.
“I would have intervened sooner,” he said at last.
“But you didn’t.”
A shadow crossed his face, quick and violent. “You think I enjoyed it? Watching them—” He cut himself off, his voice fracturing for just an instant. When he spoke again, it was low and measured, like he was forcing the words through clenched teeth. “You think I didn’t want to stop it sooner?”
“I think you wanted to see if I’d endure it,” I said, matching his quiet. “To see how much frost I could take before I broke.”
Kaelith took a step closer. The air between us cooled, breath visible in the space that separated us. “You mistake discipline for cruelty.”
“No,” I said softly. “I mistook indifference for fear.”
His head tilted, eyes narrowing. “Fear?”
“You’re afraid of what happens if you stop pretending you don’t feel anything.”
For the briefest moment, something raw and unguarded crossed his expression—something like pain, something like truth.
Then it was gone.
“You’re out of your depth,” he said.
