I am, after all, the Winter Prince. No matter how much my heart has warmed for Sapphire, ice still runs in my veins. And I will not show weakness in front of the court—especially not in a moment as important as this.
“I don’t need your approval anymore,” I tell him, since I’m pretty sure I gave my desire for his approval away when I killed his knights to follow Sapphire into the Wandering Wilds. “But I will accept your respect.”
He nods and reaches for his hand, removing the ring that’s been worn by the Winter King for as long as our court can remember. Then, he presses it into my left palm—the one Sapphire and I marked with our vows.
And as he looks up at me, it’s not as a king, or as a tyrant.
It’s as a man who’s finally seeing his son.
“I tried to make you cold,” he says, speaking slowly, gathering his thoughts. “I thought ice was strength, and that lovemade you weak. But you found strength despite every lesson I drilled into your heart.”
Tightness grips my chest, a mix of relief and sorrow. Because these are the words I once would have died to hear. Now, they feel too late—yet still powerful enough to shake me.
But I can barely focus on his words.
I’m too busy studying the ring. It glints in the light, cruel and beautiful. And if I slide it onto my finger, I’ll become king—possibly the one who sat on a frozen throne, drowning in silence, creating frosty memories on windowpanes of everyone who abandoned me, betrayed me, and broke my heart.
My father, apparently unaware of the dread racing through my bones, continues to speak.
“This ring has passed from king to king since the Winter Court’s founding,” he says, watching me intently. “And now, it passes to you.”
I close my fist around the ring, its cold edges biting into my palm. A promise of the pain to come if I slide it onto my finger and accept.
But as much as I want to throw the ring as far away from me as possible—to shatter the future the Tides showed me—I can’t refuse it. Not yet. Not until I know that everything I’ve worked for won’t be destroyed the moment I place the ring back into my father’s hand.
So, I gather myself together and hold his unwavering gaze.
“If I return this ring to you,” I say, my voice carrying across the silent arena. “You will first swear a binding oath. A deal. With me.”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd, but I quiet them with a raised hand.
Confusion flashes across my father’s face
“After all the suffering I’ve inflicted,” he says, his voice strained with disbelief, “you would allow me to rule?”
“Not without conditions.” Frost forms around my closed fist, crystallizing the ring within my grip.
“I’d expect nothing else.” He nods for me to continue, looking at me with something I never thought I’d see from him—pride.“State your terms.”
I stand tall, drawing on every lesson in diplomacy I’ve been taught since childhood. This is no ordinary agreement between fae, and I won’t leave room for escape or interpretation.
“I, Prince Riven Draevor of the Winter and Summer Courts, offer these terms,” I begin, clear and strong. “Firstly, you will unite the full strength of the Winter Court with the Summer Court against the Night Court and the Blood Coven’s threat. You will commit our warriors, our resources, and our magic without reservation or delay.”
His eyes remain locked on mine as I continue.
“Secondly, you will acknowledge Princess Sapphire Hayes Fairmont Solandriel Draevor as my wife and the Winter and Summer Princess, granting her all rights, privileges, and protections afforded to a member of the royal bloodline. You will ensure that every subject, every noble, and every warrior of the Winter Court treats her with the respect and deference her position demands.”
Frost gathers at my feet, spreading in intricate patterns across the ice.
“You will respect the bond between me and my wife,” I say sharply, “not only as a political alliance, but as a soul-binding recognized by the gods themselves. You will never attempt to separate us, undermine our authority, or question the validity of our bond.”
Calculation and question flash across my father’s eyes.
He still doesn’t know about Sapphire being star touched. He has no idea how the carving in my palm left a scar despitemy supernatural healing, let alone anything about the celestial weapon that put it there.
But those explanations are for later, after I place the Winter Court’s pieces exactly where I want them to be.
“Finally, you will not allow madness cloud your judgment again,” I tell him. “At the first sign of your reason faltering, you will yield your authority to me until your mind is restored.”
