RIVEN
“I didn’t thinkwe’d get here so… quickly,” Sapphire says from beside me, gazing up at the Winter Palace, its icy spires stabbing the dawn sky.
More specifically, at the windows of my quarters. The same quarters she broke into weeks ago, where I would have ended up killing her if she hadn’t been in her projected form.
“Me, either,” I admit, my sword drawn, ready for anything.
I needed more time to think this through. Everything that’s happened since Sapphire fell into my life has resulted in us stumbling from crisis to crisis, trying to survive day by day. I assumed we’d have time to create a more detailed plan before returning the Winter Court, but apparently, Anteros and the Lost Fae Temple had other ideas.
“At least the palace hasn’t changed,” I say, ice crawling over the snow beneath my feet. “Sharp, imposing, and ready to freeze the heart of anyone who doesn’t belong.”
Sapphire’s shoulder brushes mine, her water magic responding to my frost. “And do I belong here now?” she asks softly. “Or am I still the outsider you dragged through three deadly trials in an attempt to break my body and soul?”
“You’re the Winter Princess,” I remind her, guilt rushing through my veins at the reminder of how badly my trials hurt her. I will never, ever stop trying to make it up to her, even though there’s no way I possibly can. “Although, I’m unsure my father will see it that way.”
She glances at me, her smile tight. “If he tries to kill me, at least it won’t be the most traumatic thing that’s happened to me this month,” she says so casually that one would think she’s been having near death experiences her entire life.
Frost travels up the blade of my sword, covering it completely.
“He’s not the only one with ice in his veins,” I say, meeting her gaze. “If he tries to kill you again…”
“Then we defend ourselves, like we always do,” she says steadily. “But we came here to help him—not to fight him. You don’t have to lose him when we can still save him.” Her gaze softens, a reminder that she’d follow me to the depths of the cosmos. “You deserve to have your father back.”
I don’t deserve you.
The words are on the tip of my tongue.
But I don’t say them. Because after what we experienced in the temple—after I saw myself through her eyes—maybe I’m deserving of far more than I thought.
“I love you,” I say instead, and it comes out so naturally that it’s impossible to remember a time when it wasn’t true. “More than anything. And you know how badly I want to help my father, but if this court tries to tear us apart…” My grip on my sword tightens. “I’ll bury it in ice before I let them take you from me.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She reaches for my free hand, and the ice that was covering the blade melts. “Because I love you, too. And I want you to be happy. So, you’re going to dowhat you do best—fight smart, stay in control, and win. We both will.”
“Careful,” I say, leaning in close. “You have no idea how hard it is to think straight when you talk to me like that.”
Her lips curve into a soft, knowing smile. “Then focus. Because we’re not done here. Not by a longshot.”
I exhale slowly, dragging my gaze from her mouth back to the looming palace.
“So, Winter Prince…” she says, and my chest aches with longing at the teasing note in her voice. “What’s the plan?”
“We walk in, and we finish this,” I say, steady and sharp as steel. “We save my father from himself, gather our army, and prepare to face the Night Court.”
She goes for the Star Disc, but I catch her wrist, a bolt of frost crackling in the space between us.
“Keep it hidden—but still accessible—for now,” I tell her. “The last thing we need is my father seeing a goddess-forged weapon in your hand before he drinks the potion.”
She nods once, slipping the Disc into the folds of her cloak.
I draw in a breath, steadying myself. “We’ll walk in with deference—not defiance,” I continue. “I’ll invoke protocol. We’ll show him the potion. We’ll offer it as a gift from the Summer Court. A gesture of alliance—not a threat of rebellion.”
Her brow creases. “You think he’ll buy that?”
“No,” I admit. “His paranoia will tear at him, but if he lashes out and we don’t strike back, he might listen. We’ll obviously defend ourselves if it comes to it, but we’ll also let him see that we’re strong, united, and his to command if he accepts our help.”
“And if he doesn’t accept our help?” she asks.
I meet her gaze, frost curling at my fingertips.
