He left before I could answer, leaving behind a faint trace of warmth on my skin and the scent of sunlight where none should have been.
I should have left the gallery after he did.That would’ve been the sensible thing—to put space between myself and … whatever this was.
But sense had never done me much good in this place.
I wandered to the next archway instead, tracing the ice-carved friezes that wound along the ceiling. Each one told a story: hunts, coronations, battles so old the names had worn away. Only the creatures endured—the things that belonged to Winter before the Courts ever did.
Kael’s voice returned before I heard his footsteps.
“You forgot your gloves,” he said. I turned to find him leaning against the column, my gloves dangling from one hand. “Found these by the door. You really shouldn’t leave pieces of yourself lying around in Winter.”
“You brought them all the way back for me?”
He shrugged. “It was either that or let Kaelith find them and pretend not to notice.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t care.”
“Then you don’t know him half as well as you think.”
Something in his tone changed—the playful edge softening to something quieter. I didn’t press. He stepped closer instead, holding the gloves out. When I reached for them, his fingers brushed mine again. The touch was brief but deliberate, a single moment of heat in a world built to steal it away.
“I used to hate Winter,” he said. “The air here always feels like it’s waiting for someone to stop breathing first.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t seem to expect an answer. He turned toward the mural again, tracing the frostline with one finger. “In Summer, the creatures don’t wait. They live fast, loud. They love in fire and die in glory. Everything burns.”
“And you miss that?”
He looked over his shoulder at me, sunlight catching the faint gold in his eyes. “Sometimes I think I was made for it.” A pause. “Other times, I wonder if it’s what nearly unmade me.”
I studied him, the sharp edges of beauty dulled by something weary beneath. It was the first time I’d seen him without armor made of laughter. “Why ever come here, then?”
“Someone has to make sure Winter remembers how to thaw.”
The way he said it made my chest tighten. He smiled again but softer now. “Besides, you’re here. Makes it almost bearable.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say.”
“Only if it’s true.”
The frostlight flickered once, the shadows shifting closer. He reached past me to adjust a lantern hook on the wall, his sleeve brushing mine and the heat of him chasing away the cold that had settled in my bones since Kaelith’s silence began.
I stepped back but not fast enough. The nearness was dizzying. The scent of him—cedar and sunlight and something wild—filled the air.
“You really don’t fear much, do you?” I asked.
He smiled without turning. “Fear’s wasted on things you can’t keep.”
“Like?”
“Seasons. Mortals. Brothers.”
That last word landed between us like a dropped blade. I looked away. “You two don’t seem close.”
“Oh, we’re close enough,” he said lightly. “That’s the problem.”
He faced me again, the smile back but thinner. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not here to talk about him.”
“What are you here for, then?”
