“Go home, Kael.”
He smiled faintly. “Home is overrated.”
Kael sauntered in like the cold had never once told him no. His armor caught the frostlight, gold flickering where Winter’s blue should have dulled it. The air bent warmer around him, like it always did—not enough to melt the walls, just enough to remind me we were built from different kinds of ruin.
“You nearly brought the tower down,” he said, studying the fissures in the floor. “Half the Frostguard thinks it’s an omen. I told them you were just in a mood.”
“Were you hoping I’d thank you for the defense?” I quipped.
“Hardly. It’s much more fun when they’re terrified.”
He dropped into the nearest chair, one leg slung over the other, perfectly at ease in a room that pulsed with magic he shouldn’t have been able to tolerate. The copper in his hair glinted like firelight—his mother’s mark, not our father’s. Mine was all steel and frost; his, gold dust and rebellion.
“Why aren’t you still in Summer?” I asked.
“I was. But the Veil’s humming loud enough for even their bards to hear it. Father asked me to return.”
“He sent you.”
“He requested.” Kael smiled faintly. “It sounded polite, so I didn’t believe it.” He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his tone turning more serious. “You felt it too, didn’t you? The shift. Like the frost forgot who commands it.”
I didn’t answer.
“And the mortal arrived right as it worsened.”
“She’s not the cause.” My words were too quick.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” he said lightly. “But she’s certainly the exception.”
I turned to the frostfire, its low light licking the edge of my desk. “Winter doesn’t bend for mortals.”
“Then explain why it hums her name,” he said, eyes sharp now. “Half the Court swears they’ve heard it. The other half is pretending they haven’t.”
“She unsettles the realm,” I said. “And you think that’s cause for curiosity.”
“I think it’s cause for caution,” Kael said. “But you’ve never done well with that, have you?”
My jaw tensed. “This isn’t one of your games.”
“No,” he said, quieter now. “Worse. It’s Father’s.”
He rose, pacing toward the frost window, hands clasped behind his back. The runes shimmered faintly in response to his nearness, as if recognizing blood, not allegiance.
“You’ve noticed it, haven’t you?” he went on. “The way the ice strains when he speaks. The rooms crack where his voice carries.”
I looked away. “The Frostfather’s power runs deep.”
“So does rot.”
That stilled the room.
He sighed, glancing back at me. “You’ll defend him until the end. I know. But if you keep burying the cracks, you’ll fall through with him.”
His words lingered like frostbite.
“She doesn’t flinch from you,” Kael said suddenly, his grin returning, too sharp to be kind. “Most mortals can’t even meet your eyes. She stares you down like she’s waiting for you to blink first.”
I didn’t rise to it. “She’s reckless.”
