The line was so precise it almost hurt.
When she left me to prepare, the room fell back into silence. The frostlight on the walls glowed faintly blue, shadows cutting thin and sharp across the floor. I brushed a stray curl behind my ear and caught my reflection in the mirror—pale skin, a dress of impossible cold, eyes that looked both frightened and defiant.
I didn’t recognize the woman staring back. I wasn’t sure I liked her, either.
A knock broke the silence.
“Enter,” I called, expecting Maeryn.
Kael slipped through instead. His usual warmth filled the space before he even spoke, a brightness Winter didn’t deserve. He looked at the gown, then at me, his smile tilting somewhere between teasing, flirtatious, and protective.
“So it’s true,” he said. “They’re parading you tonight.”
“Apparently.”
He walked closer, careful not to touch the dress. “Feasts here aren’t for eating, you know. They’re for testing.”
“I’m getting that impression.”
“Don’t let them rattle you.” He reached out, adjusting one of the frost clasps at the gown’s collar. “They’ll want to see you flinch. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
“I’m not sure I can promise that.”
“Then promise to look good while failing.”
Despite myself, I laughed. “Is that your advice?”
“It’s the only kind that works in Winter.” His fingers lingered a second too long near my throat before he stepped back. “You’ll outshine half the Court.”
“And the other half?”
“They’ll hate you for it,” he said, smiling. “But that’s the price of being alive in a room full of ice.”
His tone softened then. “You look ... dangerous, you know. They won’t see it yet, but I do.”
“That sounds like a warning.”
“It is,” he said quietly. “And a compliment.”
He gave a shallow bow before leaving, the door closing on a whisper of warmth.
I looked back at the gown. It pulsed faintly in the dim light, like it had a heartbeat of its own.
Maybe it did.
And maybe I was a fool for wearing it anyway.
The feast hall gleamed like a cathedral carved from ice.
Light fractured through the ceiling, scattering across the floor in ribbons of pale blue and silver. Every surface reflected something—movement, laughter, cruelty—until it was impossible to tell which faces were real and which belonged to the glass.
The moment I entered, conversation faltered.
Hundreds of eyes turned toward me, each one too sharp, too bright, like light glancing off a blade. No one blinked. They only stared—the mortal curiosity in their gaze indistinguishable from contempt.
Maeryn had warned me.Feasts here are battles in disguise.
I walked anyway. One careful step, then another, my gown whispering against the frostglass floor. The cold bit through the silk, settling into my bones, but I refused to shiver. I would not give them that.
