The North remembers everything. Ten years ago, the ice palace of Frosthaven was silent except for the wind. Queen Isolde Valmont Lucien's mother lay on a bier of frost roses. Her silver hair spread like moonlight on snow. Her eyes were closed, but her face peaceful. But her heart had stopped three days earlier. Poison. No one said it aloud. Everyone knew. The southern delegation from the Academy of Flickering Stars arrived in black carriages, bearing "condolences" and "offers of alliance."
Ten-year-old Lucien stood beside the bier, small hand clenched around his mother's cold fingers. He had not cried since the moment she died. The southern envoy a thin man with a serpent sigil bowed low. "Your Highness, the Academy extends its deepest" Lucien's voice cut like a glacier cracking. "You killed her."
The envoy smiled thinly. "A tragedy. But the queen's health was always delicate."
Lucien looked at the man. And for the first time, the boy's green eyes turned the color of winter steel. "I will never set foot in your school," he said. He kept that promise.
Until the Trial of Masks cracked the sky.
The Grand Hall was packed. Benches groaned under the weight of nobles in silk, witches in ink-stained robes, scholars clutching books like shields. At the dais stood Headmistress Althara. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. "Due to recent events," she said, "we are implementing heightened security." Then she dropped the name no one expected. "Prince Lucien Valmont of the North has returned to complete his final year." The hall detonated. Girls screamed. Lucien stood on the dais like a statue carved from winter itself. Blonde hair like spun gold. Green eyes sharp as broken glass. Midnight-blue velvet lined with white wolf fur. Silver frost roses embroidered on his sleeves. A cloak clasped with a single diamond rose that caught the light and threw it back like a weapon.
He did not smile. He did not bow. He just stared at the crowd like he was counting how many of them had southern blood. Seraphina stood beside him, face pale.
She hadn't known he was coming. The Headmistress continued. "Nobles and royals will attend advanced glyph theory with Professor Varnholt. Commoners and scholarship students will report to Professor Calyx for elemental containment."
The hall began to empty. Nobles swept toward the eastern wing in a river of silk and perfume. Commoners shuffled west, whispering. Maria walked with Arem, Noko the fox-creature curled around her neck like a living scarf. She felt eyes on her back.
Everywhere. In a shadowed alcove, two professors watched the students leave.
Professor Thorne Varnholt tall, thin, serpent sigil on his ring. Professor Elias Calyx, shorter, smiling, eyes like poisoned honey. They waited until the hall was nearly empty.
Then Thorne spoke, voice low. "The prince returns. The Trial girl lives. The Velmire boy walks our halls." Calyx's smile didn't reach his eyes. "And the king sends them all here. To us." Thorne's fingers tightened on his staff. "The old compact is breaking."
Calyx leaned closer. "Then we make sure it breaks in our favor." They shared a look.
Old allies. Older enemies. The hall doors closed behind the last student. In her office, Headmistress Althara stood at the window. She hadn't moved since the assembly ended. The Trial replayed in her mind on loop: The masks cracking. The light. The girl collapsing. The sky tearing. She pressed a hand to the glass. "What have you brought to my school?" she whispered.
The academy split like a cracked mirror. Nobles & Royals → Eastern Wing Commoners & Scholarship → Western Wing EASTERN WING – Advanced Glyph Theory with Professor Varnholt The classroom was all marble and gold leaf. Windows looked out over floating gardens. Seats were velvet thrones.
Lucien Valmont walked in last. Every head turned. He didn't sit. He stood at the back, arms folded, green eyes scanning the room like he was counting exits. Professor Varnholt tall, thin, serpent ring glinting smiled too wide.
"Prince Lucien. An honor." Lucien's reply was ice. "Begin." Varnholt clapped once.
Illusion glyphs flared. The air filled with floating runes ancient, sharp, hungry.
"Today we practice binding," Varnholt said. "Pair up. One binds; one resists."
Students scrambled. Lucien didn't move. Kai forced into this class because of his crest ended up paired with Ilyon Kest, the merchant-warlord heir who hated "northern ice statues." Ilyon grinned like a shark. "Let's see if northern blood freezes when you bind it."
Kai's eyes narrowed. "Try me." The glyph flared between them silver chains of light snapping toward Lucien's direction by mistake. Lucien didn't even lift a hand.
The chains shattered into frost. The entire room went dead silent. Varnholt's smile faltered. Lucien finally spoke. "Next."
WESTERN WING Elemental Containment with Professor Calyx. The classroom was stone and chalk dust. Windows looked out on the goat pasture, Waffles was already famous. Maria sat in the back row, Noko curled in her lap. Mina sat beside her somehow assigned here despite zero scholarship paperwork. Professor Calyx short, smiling, clapped cheerfully. "Today we're practicing containment fields! Pair up!"
Mina immediately grabbed Maria's arm. "Dibs." Arem slid into the seat in front of them. "I call spectator." Calyx beamed. "Excellent! Let's see what happens when untrained magic meets raw chaos." The exercise began. Students raised shimmering domes of force. Mina's dome immediately turned into a giant soap bubble and floated away with a student inside.
"Oops." Maria's dome was perfect silver, steady, humming. Calyx's smile tightened. "Interesting control, Miss Velyn." Maria didn't answer. She was watching the eastern wing through the window. Watching the frost spreading across the glass from Lucien's classroom. Watching the way the sky darkened only over that tower.
EASTERN WING the lesson continues, Ilyon tried again. This time his glyph was blood-red, barbed. It shot toward Lucien like an arrow. Lucien lifted one finger. The glyph froze mid-air. Then shattered into a thousand red butterflies that flew out the window.
The class stared. Lucien's voice was soft. "Again." Ilyon's face went purple. Kai watched. Something in Lucien's magic felt… familiar. Like the nightmares.
WESTERN WING, the bubble incident escalates, Mina's escaped bubble popped.
The student inside landed in the goat pasture. Waffles head-butted him. The entire western wing erupted in laughter. Calyx clapped slowly. "Very creative, Miss…?"
"Mina. Just Mina." "Creative," Calyx said, smile sharp. "We'll work on control."
Maria stood suddenly. "I need air." She walked out. No one stopped her.
She needed quiet. EASTERN WING the breaking point Ilyon lost it. He hurled a full binding circle at Lucien illegal strength. The circle snapped around Lucien's throat like a noose. The temperature dropped twenty degrees. Ice exploded across the floor. Lucien's eyes flashed pure white. The binding circle shattered. Ilyon flew backward, slammed into the wall, pinned by invisible force. Varnholt finally intervened.
"Enough!" The ice retreated. Lucien lowered his hand. His voice was quiet.
"Tell your father the North remembers." He walked out. Kai followed because something in his crest was burning like it recognized the ice. WESTERN WING Maria in the courtyard She stood under the open sky, trying to breathe. The courtyard was empty now. Just wind and distant voices. Footsteps behind her. She turned.
Lucien. Alone. He stopped three feet away. They stared. "You're the reason the stars are screaming," he said. Maria's voice was small. "I don't know what that means."
Lucien's eyes softened just a fraction. "You will." He walked past her. But not before whispering: "Be careful who you trust here, little star." He left. Maria stood alone under the bruised sky. She didn't know why her chest hurt. Or why the wind suddenly smelled like snow.