“Coincidence. That’s generous of you, Brother.”
My jaw locked. “You have information to offer, or are you simply observing?”
He stepped forward, easy grace in every movement. “A bit of both.” His tone held amusement, but his gaze studied me like I was another line in a report. “I’ve just come from Summer to investigate the disturbances along the Veil. The mortal appeared around the time they worsened. Surely, it’s worth testing whether she knows more than she admits.”
The Frostfather’s attention sharpened. The light in his eyes brightened dangerously. “You see, Kaelith? Even the Summer Court sends help while you lose control of your own frost.”
Kael smiled at that, the perfect blend of charm and provocation. “If it helps, I’m willing to assist. You catch more flies with honey, and you, Brother, are a cold brute.”
Laughter rippled through the courtiers—thin, brittle things pretending they weren’t afraid of the sound.
I didn’t look at Kael. I looked at my father. “The mortal remains under my observation for further study.”
The room went still. The frostlight dimmed then flared, uncertain which command to obey.
“Observation,” the Frostfather repeated slowly. “You would keep her close after what she’s done?”
“She survived what should have killed her,” I said evenly. “That makes her worth understanding.”
Kael’s smile widened, but there was no malice in it, only something that could too easily become curiosity. “I can think of easier ways to learn her secrets.”
“None of them would survive your company long enough to answer,” I said.
That drew a few suppressed gasps, and Kael chuckled under his breath, unbothered.
The Frostfather rose then, and the sound of ice shifting filled the chamber. The veins of frostlight along the floor brightened in rhythm with his pulse.
“Enough,” he said, and the word froze the air itself. “Kaelith, you will not defy my command again.”
I bowed my head, hiding the flicker of gold that sparked beneath my glove. “Of course not.”
“Your judgment falters,” he went on. “Your frost bends. See that it doesn’t break.”
Kael turned slightly, voice light and taunting. “Careful, Brother. You’re starting to sound almost … warm.”
The courtiers laughed again, but the sound faltered when I raised my head.
For a heartbeat, no one breathed. The air shimmered faintly with heat before collapsing back into cold.
I forced my tone to neutral. “Permission to withdraw?”
The Frostfather’s eyes glowed faint silver, threads of madness webbing through the light. “Granted. You will return when I call. Do not make me call twice.”
I bowed once more and turned away, the weight of Kael’s smirk pressing between my shoulder blades. The frost cracked under my boots as I crossed the hall. Behind me, laughter resumed—soft, nervous, like the sound of breaking glass.
The hall doors sealed behind me with a hiss of freezing air. The sound should have been comforting—the world returning to order—but it wasn’t. The frost along the corridor walls wept in thin lines, refreezing a heartbeat later. Even the palace didn’t know whether to hold or melt.
I had almost reached the end of the passage when footsteps echoed behind me, too light to be a guard’s. I didn’t turn.
“You always leave before the applause,” Kael said.
His voice carried that same warm amusement that made courtiers lean closer and enemies grind their teeth. I kept walking. “Applause is for performance.”
“And that wasn’t one?” He caught up easily, his stride unhurried and his armor glinting faintly gold in the dim frostlight. “You have to admit, it was dramatic. All that tension. The Frostfather’s favorite son locking horns with his forgotten one. The Court will be whispering for days.”
“I don’t care what they whisper.”
“You always say that,” he said lightly. “And it’s always untrue.”
