The sun had dipped below the jagged peaks of the Iron Ridge, leaving the Crystal Garden bathed in a strange, violet twilight. The air was so still that the distant chime of the fortress clock sounded like ice shattering.
Elissa sat on the edge of a stone bench, her fingers tracing the frost-patterns on her cloak. She didn't hear the footsteps—Northern royalty moved like shadows. She was lost in the memory of the wolf pup's warmth when a sudden movement near the archway made her heart lurch.
"You know, you're much smaller than I expected," a bright, melodic voice said. "From the way Alistair's letters sounded, I thought he'd brought home a warrior-queen with a temper like a summer storm."
Elissa scrambled to her feet, her back hitting the cold stone of a statue. She tucked her hands into her sleeves—instinctively reaching for the place where her dagger used to be—and stared at the stranger.
Standing there was a girl who looked like a softer, more vibrant reflection of the Crown Prince. Her hair was a river of dark silk, and her eyes held a flickering blue light that felt curious rather than predatory. She wore furs that cost more than a Southern villa, but she was leaning against the stone archway with a casual, messy grace.
"Who are you?" Elissa asked, her voice thin and defensive. "How did you get past the guards?"
The stranger let out a delighted laugh, stepping into the starlight. "The guards? Most of them used to change my bandages when I fell off my horse as a fledgling. They don't 'stop' me, they just sigh and hope I don't break anything."
She walked closer, ignoring Elissa's obvious tension. "I'm Kestrel. Alistair's sister. Though, depending on his mood today, he might tell you I'm a local nuisance he's forced to tolerate."
Elissa's shoulders dropped an inch, but her eyes remained wide. "Princess Kestrel? I... I didn't know the Prince had a sister."
"He tries to keep me a secret," Kestrel said with a wink, sitting down on the bench and patting the spot next to her. "It's better for his 'brooding commander' image if people think he was carved out of a glacier and raised by polar bears. Come, sit. I promise I don't bite unless it's a full moon, and even then, I'm picky."
Elissa hesitated, looking toward the palace for a sign of Dante or Vane, but the garden was empty. Slowly, she sat back down, keeping a respectful distance. "Vane said someone was coming, but he didn't mention you'd be... like this."
"Loud? Opinionated? Much better looking than Alistair?" Kestrel offered. She noticed Elissa's trembling hands and reached out, her gloved hand briefly covering Elissa's. The touch wasn't the biting cold Elissa expected; it was a gentle, pulsing warmth. "I heard about the woods today. Vane is currently in the hall trying to explain to a very confused Council how a Frost-Walker pup decided you were its new mother."
Elissa's face warmed. "It wasn't like that. It was just a moment. I think everyone is making it into something more than it was."
Kestrel's expression softened, her gaze becoming more grounded. "In this place, Elissa, moments are all we have. My brothers... they've forgotten how to just be. They see the world in maps and bloodlines." She tilted her head, looking at Elissa with a genuine, quiet intensity. "It must be terrifying for you. Coming from the sun to a place where even the trees look like they want to stab you."
"I don't know who to trust," Elissa admitted, her voice a mere whisper. "Your brother... Alistair... he says he's protecting me, but I feel like I'm just a prize he's keeping in a cold box."
Kestrel watched her for a beat, noticing the way Elissa's fingers gripped her sleeve. "Alistair is a fortress," she said simply. "He thinks that if he shows a single crack, the whole mountain will crumble. But he's been... restless since you arrived. He claims it's for 'security' or 'diplomacy,' but I've seen him watching the gardens from the high colonnade."
Kestrel leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a sisterly tone. "He's trying to figure you out, Elissa. And for a man who knows everything, the fact that you're a mystery is driving him absolutely mad. It's actually quite fun to watch."
Kestrel stood up, brushing the snow from her skirts and offering her hand. "Come on. If we're late for dinner, the King will start lecturing us on punctuality, and Alistair will spend the whole night staring at his soup like it's a strategic enemy. You'll be safe with me tonight. I'm the only one Alistair is actually afraid of."
High above them, tucked into the deep shadows of the stone colonnade, Alistair stood motionless. He watched the two girls walk back toward the palace, his luminous blue eyes fixed on the one in the midnight silk. He stayed perfectly still, his breath ghosting in the air, his hands braced against the cold stone until his knuckles turned white.
He had heard his sister's teasing, and he felt the sharp, jagged edge of the truth she was playing with. He was a creature of the dark, watching the only light he had ever truly wanted to touch, terrified that if he moved closer, he would only see his own shadow fall over her.