The chamber was silent after he fell asleep.

  Aedric's breathing was slow and steady. the calm of a man at peace.

  Maria lay beside him, eyes open, staring at the carved ceiling above. Her fingers clutched the sheets as though they might keep her from falling apart.

  His words still echoed in her skull.

  "I burned her myself."

  "No witch lives within my borders."

  Each syllable felt like an iron brand pressed into her heart.

  She turned her head slightly. his face was there, half-lit by firelight. The man who had made her laugh, who had made her forget the loneliness of her blood. The man who would destroy her if he ever learnt the truth.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, then another. She covered her mouth to muffle the sound.

  You fool, she told herself. You knew what he was. You knew what you were.

  When the clock struck midnight, she rose quietly from the bed. The fire burned low. She wrapped a dark robe around herself and slipped barefoot across the floor, her hair trailing like white silk behind her.

  She opened the balcony doors; winter air rushed in, biting and sharp.

  The moon was full.

  She knelt. Whispered.

  Words older than kingdoms, words Eldrin had taught her to say in secret.

  The frost on the balcony rail began to move spiralling, forming symbols that glowed faintly blue. Her eyes shimmered with the same light.

  "I am still here," she whispered to the wind.

  But her voice broke at the end. She pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking.

  For a moment, the glow flared angry, alive, before she forced it down again, buried it deep inside her chest. Her pulse slowed. The light faded.

  Her knees ached against the cold stone.

  "Eldrin," she whispered into the night, though no one answered. "You were right. They hate us. Even the ones we love."

  The snow swirled in response, faint, like a ghostly caress.

  She stood after a while, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Her face was calm again, the perfect mask of a queen.

  When she crawled back into bed, Aedric stirred in his sleep and instinctively pulled her against him.

  Her body stiffened, then softened out of instinct, not peace.

  He mumbled something in his dreams. Her name, perhaps.

  Maria closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, her fingers resting on his heart, the same heart that would one day burn her if truth ever found its way between them.

  Outside, the moon dimmed behind clouds, as if ashamed of what it had witnessed.

  The next morning, Maria woke alone. Aedric left early to meet scouts from the frontier, his side of the bed cool, the familiar scent of him the only evidence of their shared night. Maria dressed quickly, her body aching from the cold stone of the balcony and the emotional exertion of her secret midnight rite.

  She knew she couldn't wait any longer. Aedric's words about his brother and the witch's execution had fully severed the thread of comfortable denial she had been clinging to. The terror of the magical figures in the basin was real, and she needed her shield, regardless of the cost to their bond.

  She dismissed Elara, instructing the maid to allow no one near her chamber for the next hour. When the door clicked shut, Maria walked to the darkest corner of the room, near the cold hearth, and whispered his name with urgency.

  "Eldrin."

  A ripple of shadow passed across the far wall. It clung to the stone like smoke trying to make itself human. Slowly, it peeled itself free, stretching into form.

  Eldrin.

  But he wasn't the soft-voiced boy who used to sit cross-legged with her by candlelight, teaching her sigils until their fingers were stained blue.

  His outline was sharper. His eyes darker. Something bitter pulsed under his skin like a bruise.

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  Envy was a palpable weight around him, a cloak of bitter darkness that made the entire room feel smaller. His faint, luminous eyes fixed on Maria, devoid of any protective warmth.

  "So you remember my name again," Eldrin stated, his voice low, steeped in mockery. "A long silence followed your political acquisition, little flame. Did the King's pillow finally lose its luster?"

  "You're comfortable now," he went on, wandering slowly through the room, his fingers tracing the embroidered coverlet, the polished column, the golden mirror frame. "Warm bed. Warm king. Warm kisses."

  His voice cut sharper on that last word.

  Her cheeks flushed with shock and anger. "That's not fair."

  "It's true." He turned back to her, eyes narrowed, voice dropping low.

  Maria ignored the deliberate cruelty, focusing on the immediate danger. "Do not be petty. I was frightened. I know what he is. But I need your help. The last time I tried to reach you, something else answered."

  "You sleep beside him every night. You let him touch you. And you think you can call on me only when the shadows frighten you?"

  Maria swallowed hard. "I haven't forgotten you."

  She rushed forward, desperate to explain. "The water turned to ice, Eldrin. It was the Northern shadows, the gods Aedric's people fear. They approached me. My magic was going against my will. It was rejecting the Sunfire—"

  Eldrin cut her off, raising a shadowy hand. "Save your descriptions. I already know what answered. I know what stirred when you broke our link. I know exactly what voids your recklessness leaves behind."

  His gaze swept over the luxurious chamber, lingering on the large, masculine wardrobe and the still-rumpled sheets of the king's bed. Jealousy flashed like a dark spark in his luminous eyes. a raw, ugly emotion she had never seen directed at her before.

  "You adapted quickly," Eldrin sneered, the words dripping with scorn. "You grew accustomed to the warmth of a mortal man, didn't you? You found his embrace easier than the cold necessity of your guardian. You forgot the very nature of the man you lie beside."

  Maria felt a sharp wave of anger mixed with shame. "I adapted to survive! The danger is real, Eldrin. You told me those Northern shadows are hostile. I can't control my power if it's twisted by the atmosphere of this place. I need you to shield me, or I will lose myself to the very madness Aedric fears."

  Eldrin stepped closer, his imposing dark form overwhelming her. His voice dropped to a menacing, final warning.

  "You will not lose yourself, Maria. You will lose everything else if you forget your truth again. Those shadows are ancient and hungry, drawn by the weakness and chaos you created. They will seek to claim you, to turn your Sunfire into their own icy weapon."

  He paused, his eyes narrowing as he mocked her most painful secret. "And what will the mighty King do then? The one who shares your bed? He will not see a victim, Maria. He will only see the witch who poisoned his country. He will burn you as he burned his brother's memory."

  She stared at him, stunned.

  He laughed, low and harsh.

  "I am here now," Eldrin concluded, his voice cold and devoid of comfort. "But if you try to speak of his tenderness or his safety again, if you continue to cling to the lie, I will let the shadows claim you. Understand this: I am your shield, but I will not be your fool."

  He vanished instantly, the shadows dissolving into the morning light, leaving Maria alone, shaking with a new, profound terror. She was trapped between the king, who would destroy her, and the guardian, who now despised her, and inside, she felt the first seed of fear toward the boy she used to trust more than anyone.

  That night, the cold came early.

  Maria felt it long before the servants lit the candles, long before Aedric finished with his council and joined her for dinner. It slithered beneath her skin like a memory trying to claw its way up from the deep.

  She ignored it. Or tried to.

  Aedric was warm beside her, talking about the repairs to the eastern road and the harvest numbers from the coast. She nodded, smiled when she needed to, but her fingers trembled around the goblet.

  "You're pale," he said quietly.

  "Just a headache." She forced a smile. "I'll sleep it off."

  He watched her a moment longer than usual, as if weighing something, then reached for her hand under the table. His thumb rubbed soothing circles across her skin.

  It helped. But only a little.

  Later, when they retired to their chamber, Maria waited until he drifted into sleep. She watched the slow rise of his chest, the contentment softening his features.

  It almost made her believe she was safe. Then the window glass shuddered.

  Barely. Just once. But enough to snap her upright.

  She slipped from the bed, heart pounding, and approached the balcony doors. The room was still. Too still. The kind of stillness that comes right before a predator steps out of the dark.

  Maria pressed a hand to the cold glass.

  Nothing.

  She exhaled shakily, turned to go back to bed.

  The shadows at the far corner of the room rippled.

  Not Eldrin.

  This was different.

  Darker. Thicker. It pooled like oil and climbed the stone walls in slow, hungry waves. A faint hissing sound rose, like frost cracking on a river.

  Maria froze.

  The shadows gathered themselves into shape. Not human. Not creature. Something in between. Long limbs, no face, no eyes. just emptiness staring at her.

  Her magic trembled inside her ribs, trying to rise.

  "No," she whispered fiercely, pressing a hand over her heart, choking it down.

  The shadow thing leaned forward, sensing the power she was trying to hide.

  Aedric shifted in the bed.

  Maria spun toward him, panic tightening her throat. If he woke up and saw this—

  NO.

  She forced her hands into fists. Locked her knees.

  Commanded her magic to kneel.

  The creature tilted its head. Testing her. Mocking her.

  Her heartbeat was loud enough to choke her.

  Then, with a slow, liquid motion, the shadow drifted toward the balcony doors. It seeped through the cracks in the frame like smoke slipping under a door.

  Gone.

  Maria stumbled back, breath shaking out of her. Her hands were ice. Her pulse was fire.

  Behind her, Aedric murmured her name in his sleep and reached for her absently.

  She stared at him, shocked by how badly her knees were shaking.

  She crawled back into bed, pressing herself against him, desperately trying to borrow the warmth he offered.

  His arm wrapped around her waist.

  Maria closed her eyes.

  And in the darkness behind her eyelids, she saw the way the shadow had tilted its head.

  As if it already knew her.

  As if it had come for her.

  Or worse as if it had come because Eldrin had stepped aside long enough for the dark to slip through.

  By morning, frost veined the inside of the balcony doors. Thin, delicate, and unnatural.