“Too fast.”
His grin softened into something fonder. “Then you’ll have to make it count.”
We walked a few paces in silence. The snow underfoot made no sound—just that faint, living hum again.
Kael’s tone grew quieter. “You’ve become properly acquainted with my brother now.”
“If you mean being interrogated in front of a throne room full of fae, then yes. Properly.”
That earned me an honest laugh. “That sounds like him.”
“He’s … difficult,” I said carefully.
“He’s Winter.” Kael’s smile didn’t fade, but something thoughtful flickered behind it. “Every breath here costs him more than he admits.”
“I thought he was born to it.”
“Even so. Cold cuts both ways.”
I didn’t know how to answer that, so I didn’t.
He glanced sideways at me then added, “You’d like the others better. Spring sings instead of whispers. Summer bleeds warmth from every wall. Autumn…” He smiled crookedly. “Autumn lies beautifully.”
“And the Dream Court?”
“Dream,” he said, almost reverently. “Dream never lies, but it never tells the whole truth either. They’re half here, half gone, living between thought and memory. I’ve only seen one of them once. Or maybe I dreamt it.”
I looked out across the courtyard, the snow swirling faintly in the breeze. “And which Court do you belong to? Truly.”
“I was born to Summer,” he said easily. “But I’ve spent too long going back and forth between there and Winter to remember what warmth feels like.”
There was a flicker of melancholy in his eyes, so brief I almost missed it.
“You still sound like warmth,” I said before I could stop myself.
He looked at me, amused. “Careful, little flame. I might take that as flirtation.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then I’ll pretend it was anyway.”
He laughed softly at my glare, the sound low and rich, and reached out to brush a stray curl from my shoulder. The gesture was casual—almost. But the air changed when he touched me. The frost at the edge of the courtyard flared faintly gold, then dimmed.
We both saw it.
His brow furrowed. “That’s new.”
“It’s nothing.”
He stepped back, studying the faint glow. “Winter doesn’t do nothing. It remembers everything.”
Before I could answer, the frostlight along the walls flickered once—like a heartbeat—and I felt the castle hum again, louder this time.
Kael looked toward the northern tower. “You might want to be careful who sees that. My brother isn’t fond of surprises.”
“I’ve noticed.”
He grinned again, half-playful, half-warning. “Then you’ll do fine here.”
