“I wasn’t thinking.”
“That’s worse.” He grinned. “Means you’re feeling.”
I tried not to laugh. He had that effect—turning every wall into a suggestion.
He moved closer to the mural. “The direstag,” he said. “They’re Winter’s pride. Majestic. Merciless. They’ll let you admire them right up until they decide you’ve seen enough.”
I followed the curve of antlers etched in ice. “It looks almost gentle.”
“Looks can lie. The Summer creatures don’t bother pretending. They burn too bright to hide their hunger.” He paused, glancing down at me. “Bit like people, really.”
“Are you comparing yourself to a beast?”
“Only the beautiful ones.”
I shook my head, but my pulse betrayed me. He caught it—of course he did—and his smile softened. Not teasing now. Curious. Interested.
He brushed a flake of frost from my sleeve, fingers grazing the inside of my wrist. A spark leapt under my skin, small but undeniable.
“You’re cold,” he murmured.
Gesturing around vaguely, I said, “I live in a palace made of ice.”
He tilted his head. “Still … you shouldn’t be.”
The words landed too gently to be scolding. They sounded like concern—or maybe invitation. I stepped back half a breath, needing space I didn’t actually want.
Kael only smiled wider, as if my retreat amused him. He turned toward the next panel, one carved with coiled shapes beneath waves of frost.
“Frostserpents,” he said. “Born from blizzards. They sing before they strike.”
“That’s … comforting.”
“They rarely miss.”
“And the creatures of Summer?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t shake.
“Louder. Hotter. Phoenix hawks, dusk-lions, fire-drakes. They hunt with noise instead of stealth. When they love, it’s the same way.”
He looked back at me as he said it, and I forgot whatever reply I’d meant to give.
A moment stretched between us, soft and bright as the light around us. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek; his knuckles grazed my skin, and the warmth there felt indecent in this frozen place.
“You’d like Summer,” he said quietly. “They’d love your fire.”
“I’ve had enough of fire for one lifetime.”
He smiled, half-sad, half-mischief. “Then you haven’t met the right kind.”
My heartbeat stuttered. I wanted to move, to laugh, to do anything that would make the air less heavy, but the words wouldn’t come. Even the frostlight seemed to wait.
Then Fenrir’s nails clicked against the marble somewhere down the corridor, a sharp echo that made both of us look away.
Kael exhaled first, the sound a soft chuckle. “Saved by your hound again.”
“Lucky me.”
He stepped back, bowing slightly in mock defeat. “Another time, then. When the frost’s not watching.”
