I said nothing.
The Frostfather rose slowly, every movement purposeful. Frost gathered at his feet, spidering outward in veins across the floor. “Tell me what you touched.”
I kept my tone level. “The enemy.”
“Themortal,” he corrected. “Tell me what you touched.”
The question slithered under my skin, cold and knowing.
“She was in the courtyard,” I said. “I pulled her from the path of a wraith. Nothing more.”
His mouth curved—not a smile, not yet, but something that wanted to be one. “Your lies have always been elegant, my son.”
“I don’t lie.”
“Then you’re worse than I thought. Youbelieveyour own restraint.”
The air thickened. The frost underfoot creaked as it climbed the walls. Fenrir growled softly beside me but didn’t move. He’d learned long ago that the Frostfather’s madness was not to be challenged—only endured.
My father stepped closer. His breath came out in ribbons of silver vapor, curling toward my face. “The wards have broken. The sky burns red.Frostwraiths stalk my own halls. And all of this began when you brought her here.”
“She saved lives tonight.”
“She endangered every one of them.”
“She—” I caught myself. The word burned on my tongue before I could shape it into something dangerous.
He tilted his head, studying me. “Say it.”
“She’s not the cause,” I finished, voice low.
“You think you can lie to Winter itself?”
His hand snapped up, and the air shattered. Frostlight burst around me, constricting like chains. The temperature dropped until even breath became shards of glass. I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give him that.
“Do you feel that?” he asked. “That is the weight of your lineage. Every oath you’ve ever sworn freezing to keep you still. And yet…”
He leaned in close enough that his eyes reflected mine. What I saw there wasn’t power. It was hunger—the need to control what he feared was slipping away.
“You bring a sickness to this court,” he whispered. “A warmth that does not belong. Seal her. End this.”
I forced a breath past my teeth. “If she’s truly what you claim, killing her won’t stop it. It will start it.”
His eyes flashed white. “You forget your place.”
“No,” I said quietly. “I remember too well.”
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of frost cracking. Then he laughed—a sound without humor, echoing through the hall like something fractured and hollow.
“Defiance suits you poorly, Kaelith.”
He turned away, ascending the steps to his throne again, motion slow and heavy with age and madness. “You think you can protect her,” he said. “But Winter devours everything it touches. Even its heir.”
He waved a hand dismissively. The frostlight snapped free, leaving the air to collapse back into cold.
“Go,” he said. “Before I remember what I made you for.”
Outside the hall, the world felt quieter but no safer.
