I stepped back sharply, sucking air through my teeth until the pain steadied me.The frost on my gloves refroze in a thin, cracking layer. The gold light beneath it dimmed to nothing.
“Not like this,” I whispered.
Fenrir padded from the shadows, watching me with silver eyes.He let out a low, warning rumble, and the world seemed to right itself around the sound.
I turned away from the door.
By the time I reached the end of the corridor, the cold had settled back in my bones, a thin, merciful blade through the heat.
But I could still feel it—the ghost of her warmth, the echo of what almost was.
I told myself it was only the enchantment.That it would fade.
It didn’t.
Chapter nineteen
Katria
By morning, the castle had learned my name.
I felt it in the way the halls went silent when I walked through them, the way conversations froze like water turning to ice.The frostlight along the ceilings hummed faintly, low and constant, as if whispering something I wasn’t meant to hear.
No one met my eyes.
Maeryn was waiting when I reached the lower corridor. She carried a basket of linens that didn’t belong to anyone I knew, her hands working faster than the expression she tried to hide.
“You shouldn’t be out yet,” she said quietly. “The Court’s still talking.”
“About what happened?”
“About what they think happened.”
That distinction didn’t sound promising.
She started walking, and I followed. Servants passed us and lowered their heads; guards kept their hands on their weapons longer than necessary.
“What do they think?” I asked finally.
“That the prince broke his calm for you,” she said. “That the frost itself bent to keep you from shattering.”
I laughed under my breath, a sound with no humor in it. “They make it sound romantic.”
“They make everything sound dangerous,” she corrected.
We turned into the frostgarden — a narrow glass hall lined with frozen vines and pale blossoms suspended in ice. The air smelled faintly of winter mint and something older, a scent that never quite left this place.
“Maeryn.” She stopped when I said her name, but she didn’t turn. “Why does the Court hate warmth so much?”
“Because it reminds them of what they’ve lost,” she said softly. “And what they’ll never have again.” She paused. “And because it represents change.”
That was when Kael found me.
He came through the opposite archway, hair catching the pale light like copper dulled by frost. He looked too alive for this place, too warm, like Summer had followed him in.
“Little flame,” he said, eyes glinting with mischief. “If you keep asking questions like that, they’ll start calling you dangerous.”
“I thought they already did.”
