Elissa feld the air at the base of the sapphire falls was surprisingly still, creating a natural amphitheater of ice and light. The sapphire cascade hung like a frozen roar, breathtaking and ancient.
"Finally," Kestrel breathed, sliding off her mare before the horse had even come to a full stop. She stretched her arms over her head, her joints popping in the silence. "If I had to spend one more minute watching Alistair's back muscles twitch with 'princely anxiety,' I think I would have jumped into a ravine."
Alistair ignored her, his focus entirely on the girl sitting before him. He didn't jump down; he swung his leg over and dropped with a controlled, heavy thud, then turned to offer his hands to Elissa.
"You can let go of the pommel now, Princess," he said. His voice was a low, dry rumble, but as Elissa looked down, she saw a flicker of something almost like a smile in his luminous blue eyes. "Unless you've decided to become part of the saddle permanently."
Elissa realized her fingers were still locked around the leather. She forced them to unclench, her joints aching. "My legs feel like they belong to someone else," she admitted, her voice shaky.
"That would be the 'Southern wobble,'" Vane chimed in, walking over to help Dante with the tethers. "Don't worry, it goes away after the first fifty miles. Or you just stop feeling your lower half entirely. It's very efficient."
Alistair's hands found Elissa's waist. As he hoisted her down, the movement was slower than usual. For a heartbeat, she was suspended in the air, her hands resting on his armored shoulders. She could feel the steady, thrumming heat of him—a living hearth in the middle of the permafrost.
"I have you," he murmured, his breath a silver ghost against her cheek. He set her boots onto the packed snow, but didn't pull his hands away until he was certain she wouldn't topple over.
"Thank you, Alistair," she said, her voice small.
"Don't get used to the service," he replied, his face returning to its mask of marble, though he didn't move away as quickly as he usually did.
The group moved toward the center of the clearing. The Frozen Falls towered above them, a massive, jagged curtain of sapphire ice that looked like a river had been caught mid-scream.
"It's... it's like the sky fell and forgot to shatter," Elissa whispered, tilting her head back until her neck ached.
"It's a graveyard of water," Dante added, his voice unusually somber as he leaned against a frost-covered rock. "My mother used to say that the ice remembers everything the sun tries to make us forget."
"Oh, don't start with the poetry, Dante," Kestrel laughed, though she looked at the ice with a trace of reverence. She turned to Elissa, nudging her with an elbow. "So, Southern Rose, is it grander than the marble fountains of your father's court?"
"It's terrifying," Elissa said honestly. "But it's the first thing I've seen here that doesn't look like it wants to kill me."
"Give it a minute," Vane joked, kicking at a loose shard of ice. "The day is still young."
As if on cue, a high-pitched, frantic yapping erupted from a cluster of frost-heavy ferns at the edge of the clearing. A white blur skidded across the slick ice, its oversized paws sliding in every direction before it regained its balance.
"Not again," Vane sighed, though his hand didn't move toward his sword.
The pup didn't hesitate. It ignored the three towering Princes and the Princess of the North, heading straight for Elissa with its tail wagging so hard its entire back half was wiggling. It collided with her knees, letting out a series of joyous, breathless barks.
"Oh! You followed us!" Elissa laughed, the sound bright and startlingly warm. She knelt in the snow, heedless of the midnight silk of her skirts. The pup immediately lunged for her face, offering a barrage of cold, wet licks.
"Ugh, the indignity," Vane noted, crossing his arms and watching with a look of mock-disgust. "A Frost-Walker acting like a common hearth-dog. If the King saw this, he'd have the beast court-martialed."
"He's just a baby, Vane," Kestrel said, joining Elissa on the ground. She reached out to scratch the pup behind its ears, and it let out a long, contented sigh. "Look at him. He's practically a cloud with teeth."
"A cloud that eats meat," Alistair reminded them, though he stepped closer, his shadow falling over the three of them. He looked down at the pup, which had now trotted over to drop a soggy, chewed-up piece of pine branch at his boots as a 'gift.'
Alistair stared at the branch. Then he looked at the pup. "I have no use for a stick."
"It's a peace offering, Alistair," Elissa said, looking up at him with a grin that made his heart do a strange, uncomfortable somersault. "You're supposed to say thank you."
Alistair looked around to see if his brothers were watching. Dante was busy sharpening a dagger, and Vane was trying to see his own reflection in a wall of ice. Slowly, Alistair reached down, his gloved fingers briefly brushing the pup's soft, white fur.
"Thank you," he muttered, his voice so low it was almost a growl. "For the... stick."
"See? He's human after all," Kestrel whispered to Elissa, winking.
The valley was filled with something the North rarely saw: simple, unburdened happiness. Elissa tossed a handful of snow, and the pup lunged for it, burying its entire head in a drift and emerging with a 'beard' of white powder. Even Dante let out a low, vibrating chuckle when the pup tried to 'hunt' Vane's shifting shadow.
"He likes you," Alistair said softly. He was standing close enough that Elissa could feel the cold edge of his cloak brushing her arm. "The North is usually more selective with its affection."
Elissa looked up at him, her face flushed and her eyes bright. "Maybe the North just needs someone to play with, Alistair. Not everything has to be a battle."
Alistair looked at her, his luminous blue eyes softening for a fleeting heartbeat. "Perhaps you're—"
He stopped.