“I’ll walk alone.”
He lowered his arm, unoffended. “Then I’ll walk behind you. Pretend I’m your shadow.”
The corner of my mouth almost twitched. “Summer doesn’t cast shadows.”
Kael grinned. “Not until Winter stands in its way.”
The words lingered as we moved beneath the frost arches. Snow began to fall through the cracks above us, pale and silent, but when the first flake landed on my sleeve, it wasn’t white. It was gray, faintly warm at its core.
Kael caught one in his palm, watching it fade to water. His smile turned curious. “Well,” he murmured, “that’s new.”
And the next flake that fell didn’t melt at all. It burned faint gold where it touched the ground.
Kael flicked the melting snowflake from his glove, his smile returning, softer now but no less confident.
“You know,” he said, “most mortals tremble when they stand before a fae court. You … don’t seem the trembling type.”
I looked away. “You don’t know me.”
“Not yet,” he agreed easily. “But I’d like to.”
The way he said it made something in my stomach twist. He wasn’t leering—he didn’t have to. His confidence was the kind that drew you closer without asking permission.
“I’m not a story for you to collect,” I said.
He laughed under his breath. “I have enough stories. I’m looking for the ones that still surprise me.”
I wanted to tell him I wasn’t interesting, that he was wasting his time, but the words caught in my throat. Kael moved like warmth personified—a golden pulse of life in this frozen world. Every time he smiled, the air seemed to bend around him, softer, less hostile.
“Why are you really here?” I asked finally.
“To keep my brother honest,” he said. Then, more lightly, “And to see if the rumors about the mortal are true.”
I frowned. “What rumors?”
“That you burned the frost itself. That you made Winter bleed.” He tilted his head, sunlight glinting from the strand of metal threaded through his braid. “If that’s true, you might be the most dangerous thing in this palace.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said.
Kael stepped closer, until the faint warmth of him brushed my skin. “Then you’re the only thing that doesn’t need to.”
My breath caught before I could stop it. The guards shifted uneasily behind us, but Kael didn’t seem to care. He leaned closer, voice dropping to something low and conspiratorial.
“You should know,” he murmured, “the Winter Court has a way of turning fear into faith. The more they whisper against you, the more you’ll be noticed. Keep them guessing—it’s safer that way.”
I forced a shaky laugh. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“Surviving in someone else’s kingdom?” He smiled, sharp but kind. “Constantly.”
I wanted to step back, but curiosity anchored me. “You shouldn’t be seen with me. You’ll only make it worse.”
“I’m not afraid of their whispers.” His gaze traced my face, lingering not like a man appraising beauty but like one committing a mystery to memory. “Besides, if I didn’t speak to you, who would?”
“Your brother might have something to say about that.”
“Ah.” His grin curved wider. “You’ve noticed him, then.”
“Everyone notices him.”
