But this wasn’t about vanity. It was about choice.
Kaelith could build his walls of discipline. I’d make mine of warmth. He’d guard his heart behind duty; I’d hand mine to her and see which of us she believed.
The game between brothers had begun long before tonight. We’d just never had a piece on the board worth playing for.
Now we did.
And I intended to win.
By the time I reached the far wall of the courtyard, the aurora was fading. The red bled into pale violet, then into the color of breath on glass. Dawn would come soon, soft and silver, pretending everything was clean again.
But I knew better. Some nights never really ended—they just learned to look like mornings.
I sat on the edge of the frozen fountain, the stone biting through my trousers, and ran a thumb over a crack in the ice. The reflection in the water below was fractured: pieces of my face caught between shifting shards of red and white.
That was me in a single image—half fire and change, half frost, never whole.
I’d spent a lifetime smiling through it, turning the ache into charm, the envy into jokes. No one takes a man seriously when he’s laughing, and that suited me fine. But tonight, I wasn’t laughing.
Tonight, I’d seen the thing I’d never thought him capable of—desire. Real, reckless desire. And it had to be for her.
Katria.
The name itself felt like heat against my tongue. I said it once, softly, as if the snow might echo it back. It didn’t, but the sound steadied me.
She’d come here terrified and proud, and in the span of weeks she’d done what no fae courtier ever dared—she’d made my brother bleed feeling. That alone was reason enough to pay attention. But there was more. I’d seen the way she looked at me, too, not with the fire she gave him but something quieter. Curiosity. Relief. A breath of warmth in a place built on cold.
Maybe she didn’t know it yet. Maybe she never would. But I’d learned long ago that warmth finds its way into the cracks frost leaves behind. All it takes is time.
And I had time.
I leaned back on my palms, staring up at the sky. The last traces of red were slipping into silver. “You’ve got his attention now, little flame,” I murmured. “But you’ll have mine too.”
The promise sat on my tongue, simple and sharp. I didn’t mean it as a threat—at least, not yet. It was an oath, the kind I didn’t need witnesses for.
Let Kaelith drown in restraint. Let him convince himself his duty mattered more than desire. I’d show her the difference between warmth andice, between control and choice. Between a brother who desired her from afar—and one who dared to reach for her.
The wind stirred again, carrying with it the faint scent of snow and something sweet. I thought of her hair catching the frostlight, her laughter when she forgot to guard it, the stubborn tilt of her chin. And beneath all that, the knowledge that neither of us could leave this unscarred.
“Here’s to the ruin we’re heading for,” I said to the empty courtyard.
The ice cracked under my hand, a thin vein of red light still trapped beneath the surface. It looked like blood frozen mid-beat. I watched it pulse once, faintly, before dying out.
That, I thought, was how it always began—quiet, harmless, beautiful. Until the thaw came.
I rose as the first pale light of dawn crept over the parapets, brushing frost from my sleeves. Whatever line had divided Kaelith and me before tonight was gone now.
The next time our paths crossed, it wouldn’t be as allies.
And as I walked back inside the Hold, I smiled—not cold like Kaelith’s smile, but bright, easy, the kind that always made people underestimate the danger behind it.
Because Winter had its heir.And now, finally, fire did too.
Chapter twenty-eight
Katria
I hadn’t seen Kaelith since the feast.No word. No summons. Nothing.
