“This was my land before your frost touched it,” I said, dismounting. “I’ll see what’s left with my own eyes.”
“The view is more than adequate.” Her hardened gaze drifted past me to the horizon, where smoke still rose from a ruined village. “Autumn is where it will remain. Frozen in its destruction.”
“You will go no farther,” I said.
“You intend to stop me.”
“My army will prove itself. We fight for the love of our land. Yours fights because you pull their hollow strings.”
Her lips twitched as if she found this all amusing. “You cannot hold it forever.”
I circled her slowly, the crunch of snow loud in the silence. “You asked for this meeting. Speak your purpose.”
“I offer peace,” she said simply, eyes glittering like diamonds. “And a future.”
“Peace. I’m not sure you and I define that word the same.”
“Then I’ll use a different word. Compromise, darling.” Her eyes caught the light—silver, endless. “Marry me.”
I frowned, unsurprised by the trap she’d laid.
She smiled wider at my silence. “You have a kingdom on its knees. I have the power to keep it from shattering. Together, we could rule both realms. I only want to share your seat—what do you call it? The Harvest Throne?”
My throat tightened. “You’d share it. Equally.”
“For now.”
Her honesty chilled me more than any lie would have.
“And if I refuse?”
Her expression softened, pitying. “Then I will take it anyway, Prince. Piece by piece. You’ve seen how easily Winter spreads.”
“I don’t bow to threats.”
“No,” she said, almost fond. “You bow to ghosts. To a father who left you nothing but a broken crown. To a woman who left you nothing but regret.”
I stiffened. “You presume much.”
“Iknowmuch.” She stepped closer, and the frost reached for my boots, curling around the leather. “You’re still trying to prove you’re more than a boy pretending to be king.”
“Careful,” I warned. “You stand on my soil.”
She smiled. “This will all be mine soon. And you will bow. One way or another.”
The wind shifted. The ice crackled beneath us like the earth itself was listening.
“I’ll give you time to think on it,” Heliconia murmured. “But not much. I have a war to win after all. A throne to claim.”
“I won’t say yes,” I said. “Not now. Not ever.”
“Then you’ll watch your realm die. Just as she did.”
“Her realm isn’t dead,” I said, knowing it was a useless barb. “They live.”
“They sleep,” she snapped, eyes narrowing. “And they remain lifeless and cursed. Dead in all the ways that matter.”
An easily struck nerve, then.
