Night fell over the Ice Palace like a held breath.
Serenya stood alone on a balcony carved from crystal frost, watching snow spiral endlessly into the abyss below. The world beyond the palace was silent—too silent. Even the wind seemed afraid to speak.
She wrapped her arms around herself, the cold seeping into her bones despite the warmth of her cloak. The court's whispers still echoed in her mind. Assassin. Treason. Mercy. Every step she took in this palace felt like walking across thin ice.
"You should not be out here alone."
Vael's voice came from behind her.
She turned slowly. He stood in the doorway, his presence dimming the starlight itself. Without his crown, he looked less like an emperor and more like a man burdened by eternity.
"I needed air," Serenya said. "Even cold air."
He stepped closer, frost forming beneath his boots. "This palace devours the unprepared."
"So you keep reminding me."
"That is because I do not wish to see you broken."
The words surprised them both.
Vael's jaw tightened. "What you did today was reckless."
"Mercy always is," Serenya replied. "But it makes people hesitate. Fear only teaches them to strike harder."
He studied her then—not as a ruler assessing a subject, but as something far more dangerous. Curiosity.
"You do not belong here," he said quietly. "And yet… the palace bends around you."
Serenya met his gaze. "And you don't belong to the monster they paint you as."
The temperature dropped suddenly.
Ice crawled up the railing, responding to Vael's surge of power—and emotion.
"Do not mistake restraint for weakness," he warned.
"I don't," she said softly. "I see it as pain."
For the first time in centuries, Vael turned away.
The ice cracked beneath his feet.
When he left, Serenya touched the frozen railing. A thin fracture spread through it—small, but undeniable.
Winter had begun to break.