Mercedes did not ask what Strax meant.
She understood.
The creature that had crossed the ice had not appeared on its own. The desert was too far away. The seal was still not open enough. The projection had reached the North because something had guided the way, something had given direction, echo, or enough name for the shadow to find a crack. And if there was one thing Mercedes hated more than an external threat, it was discovering that someone inside her own kingdom might have allowed that approach.
The little girl was still holding Strax's fingers.
She trembled less now, but she was not calm. Her blue eyes were red from crying, and the way she remained pressed against Mercedes made it clear that any louder noise could make her shrink back again. Strax noticed that and did not try to take her from the Monarch of Ice's arms. He only kept his hand there, offering a fixed point, a living anchor that did not depend on magic, seal, or ancient crown.
