I pause, letting each term settle into the frozen air of the arena.
“Those are my terms,” I finish. “Do you accept?”
I wait, barely able to breathe, praying it’s enough.
For a moment, I think it won’t be.
But he rises to his feet, his posture straightening as he faces the silent crowd, then turns back to me.
“I, King Nivian Draevor of the Winter Court, swear by ice and blood, by the ancient powers that have sustained the Winter Court since its founding,” he begins, his voice carrying to every corner of the arena as he repeats the terms of our deal, exactly as I laid them out.
Once finished, he extends his hand to me, palm up, ready to seal the oath.
For a heartbeat, I hesitate. Trust is dangerous, especially with him. But this is the best chance at peacefully moving toward a future where the Night Court and Blood Coven don’t pose a threat to the realms.
So, I reach for his hand, clasping his wrist.
Frost crawls outward from our joined arms, wrapping around us in spirals of winter magic. It seeps into our skin, binding the oath into our bones—unbreakable, inescapable, and eternal.
The crowd gasps as the frost shatters into diamond dust that rains to the ground.
It’s done. The oath is sealed.
I study my father for a long moment, weighing the sincerity in his eyes against decades of mistrust. Then, I place the ring back into his palm, closing his fingers around it.
“Keep your crown,” I tell him, my voice low enough that only he can hear. “But never forget how close I came to taking it from you.”
“I will remember,” he promises as he slips the ring back onto his finger.
With a slow exhale, I release his arm and turn to the royal box where Sapphire stands.
Water droplets shimmer around her like suspended stars, her eyes locked with mine across the distance. And through our bond, her love flows toward me, her magic shielding me from the whispers of the lonely future that could have been.
It’s not just approval, but pride. Protection. Unwavering love and devotion.
I am so insanely lucky to have her.
As Sapphire and I are losing ourselves in each other’s eyes—as we seem so often to do—my father turns to address the arena, his voice carrying renewed strength.
“The Trial of Frost and Blood is complete,” he declares. “My son has challenged me and won. He has united Winter and Summer, forging our courts into a single blade against the darkness of Night!”
The crowd erupts, a mixture of cheers and chatter spreading through the stands.
“Together,” he continues, gesturing to me and Sapphire, “the Prince and Princess of Winter and Summer will lead our warriors alongside the Summer Court. We’ll show the Night Court a power they’ve never dreamed possible, and our strength will blaze brighter than the stars, burning away their darkness until nothing remains but victory!”
