Arie’s POV

  This is the day. The day I finally end this.

  I refuse to stay trapped in this igloo, helpless, while my kingdom remains in the claws of a tyrant.

  I pull my cloak tighter, its silvered fabric casting muted reflections over my lavender tunic. The knock comes, sharp against the door, and I waste no time answering it.

  Skymint stands on the other side, his sky-and-mint eyes catching the pale morning light.

  "Good morning, Arie."

  "Good morning, Skymint." I offer a small smile. "I’m ready."

  "Before we go," he says, reaching into a paper bag, "I wanted to give you something."

  He lifts a black box, flipping it open to reveal a pendant—a crystal, blue as the abyssal sea, glimmering as though it holds frozen light within.

  I inhale softly. "You… you really bought this for me?"

  "Of course." His voice is steady. "I hope you like it."

  A warmth stirs in my chest, foreign but not unwelcome. "Why?"

  His brows knit together. "I can’t leave without giving you something first."

  I press my lips together, fingers brushing over the pendant’s cool surface. "Thank you, Skymint."

  Turning, I let him fasten it around my neck. The metal is cold against my skin, but it settles there with an odd sense of permanence.

  "Also," I say, my voice lifting just slightly, "I’m not letting you leave too soon without a gift of your own."

  He raises a brow. "Oh?"

  "I don’t have one yet." I wink. "But I will."

  He exhales a laugh. "I see what you mean."

  My gaze drifts toward the tiny creature perched on the desk, its round, glassy eyes fixed on us.

  "Is it okay if I bring Chillbi?" I ask.

  Skymint tilts his head. "I’d recommend leaving him here. You probably don’t want him following you forever."

  I glance at Chillbi, expecting the usual reaction—his delighted roar, his eager shuffle toward me—but he doesn’t move.

  Skymint frowns. "Why’s he so quiet?"

  "I don’t know," I admit. "He’s been like this since I woke up."

  I reach out, fingertips brushing the air between us, but the moment I get close, Chillbi flinches. Subtle, but unmistakable.

  His tiny black eyes dart away.

  "Chillbi?" My voice softens, but he only curls inward, pulling his limbs tight against himself.

  Skymint shifts beside me. "That’s… weird. He’s usually all over you."

  Something uneasy flickers in my chest.

  Maybe Donshell’s spell wasn’t permanent.

  "I should bring him back soon, when I get the chance," He murmur.

  Then, shaking off the strange weight pressing against my thoughts, I square my shoulders. "We should go."

  We step out into the snow, the cold air brimming with a fragile sense of hope.

  ***

  The ocean stretched into infinity, a restless expanse of rippling gold where the sun struck its surface at its peak. The ice engine thrummed beneath us, its low hum filling the quiet as I summoned its power once more. Skymint twisted the handle, guiding the boat toward the distant island—twice the size of the polar bear village, its frosted silhouette stark against the horizon.

  I glanced down at the waves. Each ripple stirred a phantom memory—the cold grip that once pulled me under, the abyss of the Glacia Trench swallowing me whole. Even now, the thought of submersion coiled around my ribs like an iron band. I had vowed, since then, never to go underwater again. I would not be trapped. I would not be helpless.

  A gust of wind sent Skymint’s hair shifting in front of me, the stark white strands slipping free from beneath his black bucket hat, a contrast as sharp as ink on fresh snow. He was a steady presence, an anchor against the unease gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

  “Skymint,” I said, my voice cutting through the wind.

  His ear twitched at the sound of his name. “Yes?”

  I hesitated, then let curiosity take the lead. “That hat. Where did you get it?” My eyes lingered on the fabric, the way it sat worn and familiar against him. “You’ve only worn it once before—when we left Donshell’s cave.”

  His fingers brushed the brim, almost absentmindedly. “It was a relic,” he murmured. “From a fellow Polarman. He was like a brother to me.” The weight in his voice was palpable, threaded with something distant, something unsaid.

  I opened my mouth to ask more, but before I could, he shifted. “We’re almost there.”

  A flock of white birds burst from the cliffs ahead, their wings carving the sky as they vanished into the distance.

  I clenched my cloak tighter, shoving down the doubts coiling in my stomach. I was no longer draped in the silks of a princess, yet my presence still whispered of royalty. Sky-blue hair. Pale, unblemished skin. Traits that marked me as unmistakably Glacian.

  The boat skimmed against the shore, the sand here bleached by frost, crunching beneath our boots as we stepped onto land. Even with my fur-trimmed hood drawn close, the sun’s heat pressed against me—cloying, suffocating. A weakness embedded in my very blood. If this was unbearable, then the blistering heat of the Sunstar Kingdom would be torture.

  The island was quiet, save for the ceaseless murmur of waves and the distant rustle of shifting leaves. As we walked, the mansion loomed ahead—a towering structure of white marble, veins of teal sapphire catching the light like trapped ocean currents.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Polarmen guards flanked the entrance, harpoons gripped firm in weathered hands. The weapons were simple—wooden shafts, but with metal tips sharpened to a gleam. As we approached, they parted, one gesturing for us to follow.

  Inside, the walls bore remnants of the sea—coral carvings, relics that seemed dredged from the ocean floor. I barely had time to take them in before a presence filled the room, commanding and heavy.

  A large Polarman strode forward, his thick, fur-lined coat draped over his broad shoulders. Authority clung to him, not in the way of kings but of men who had long mastered survival.

  “You’re the Ice Princess,” he said, his voice deep, measured. “An honor.”

  Then his gaze flicked to Skymint. Assessing. Curious.

  “And you… you’re the one who rescued her?”

  Skymint tensed at the attention, though his voice remained even. “Yes.”

  The man nodded. “You did well, young Polarman. Saving a princess is no small feat.” His tone was unreadable, hovering between approval and something else. He gestured toward the sofas. “Sit. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  The cushions yielded beneath me, too plush, too familiar. A taste of the life I had left behind. A silent maid poured blueberry juice into delicate cups, the scent tart in the air.

  The Polarman leaned forward, his sky-blue gaze locking onto mine. “Skymint wrote to me. Told me you were still alive. Told me how he pulled you from the Glacia Trench.” He studied me, the weight of his stare pressing for something deeper. “And now that you’re here, I’d like to hear it from you. What happened in Glacia?”

  I lifted the cup to my lips. The juice was sour, biting against my tongue.

  “I don’t mind telling you,” I said slowly, lowering the glass. “But first, I need to know—how exactly can you help me?”

  The man exhaled a quiet chuckle, something unreadable in the sound.

  “It’s simple,” he said. “Anything you need, Ice Princess. But we’ll discuss that later.” He leaned back, the faintest trace of amusement curling at the edge of his lips. “For now, let’s talk.”

  "You must already know—Felipe invaded our kingdom. He’s the new Ice King." I paused. "And he declared me dead."

  The Guardian inclined his head, unreadable. "Which turned out to be false. I’m impressed you escaped the burning palace… and the Wolf King himself. Leaving everything behind must have been devastating."

  His expression darkened. "But I’ve been wondering—how did the Wolfmen breach Glacia’s borders? If there was a weakness in your kingdom, there could be one in mine. This island must remain a sanctuary for Polarmen, especially now that more Glacians are seeking refuge here. Felipe will take notice sooner or later."

  "There was a traitor," I said, my voice measured. "Someone working with Felipe. If you want to take precautions, ban the Wolfmen traders. They’re under his influence."

  The Guardian frowned. "Wolfmen traders are valuable. They’re our primary source of fruit cubes. Cutting them off isn’t so simple."

  A flicker of irritation flared in me, but I swallowed it down.

  "Did you know your Dream Seer has been missing since the tragedy?" he asked suddenly.

  I stiffened. "What? Lady Collfumes is missing?"

  "Yes. It’s common knowledge now—a troubling rumor. She was our only seer, and without her, that gift may be lost forever. Glacia’s reputation has crumbled ever since King Domestan’s death." A frown settled on his features. "I was a loyal follower of the old king."

  A twinge of unease curled through me. There was no time to dwell on his allegiance.

  Skymint spoke up. "If the Wolfmen traders are too important to ban, then at least monitor them. Double-check what they’re bringing in. They could be smuggling weapons for an invasion."

  The Guardian let out a low chuckle. "Cautious, aren’t you? Not a bad trait." He nodded approvingly. "A reasonable precaution."

  Skymint hesitated. "As for Lady Collfumes… we didn’t know she was missing. And Arie—she’s still grieving."

  "I understand." The Guardian turned his gaze back to me, sharp, assessing. "And yet, despite everything, you remain the only eligible heir to the throne. How do you plan to restore Glacia’s stability?"

  I couldn’t hesitate. Couldn’t afford doubt. Even if I had no desire to be queen, I had to be convincing.

  "Felipe stole my kingdom. I intend to take it back," I said, my tone cutting through the room like a blade.

  The Guardian leaned forward slightly. "And how do you plan to do that?"

  "This is the first step. That’s why we’re here." I met his gaze, steady. "Support me, and I’ll reward you once I reclaim the throne." I softened my expression, offering a warm smile.

  He smiled back—but skepticism lingered in his eyes, a shadow beneath the surface. "A bold promise. But promises are nothing without proof."

  His gaze grew unreadable. "Tell me, Princess—what will you do when conspirators rise against you?" He took a slow sip of his juice, each movement deliberate. "You can’t afford another tragedy like King Aerol. You’d be vulnerable."

  A shiver crawled down my spine. He wasn’t pressuring me—but his words carried weight, an unspoken warning beneath them.

  "Hiding won’t reclaim my throne," I said firmly.

  The Guardian’s smile deepened, but his eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "I suspect you’ll prioritize survival—like Aria Windcore, still lurking in the shadows somewhere. But you… you’re different. You’re desperate."

  My heartbeat thudded in my ears.

  Skymint’s voice sharpened. "What do you mean by conspirators?"

  The Guardian chuckled, reclining in his chair, the movement slow, unhurried—like a beast that knew it was at the top of the food chain. "Rebels, activists—those foolish enough to think they can shift the tide. Some learn to bow. Others…" He exhaled, almost lazily. "Meet unfortunate ends."

  His fingers drummed against the armrest, a measured rhythm of anticipation. "There was one in particular. A Polarwoman who meddled where she shouldn’t have. She died of sickness before she could pay her bounty." His smirk deepened. "What a shame."

  Then his gaze sharpened, a predator catching the scent of old blood. "But I wasn’t satisfied with her death. Not until I found her son. Those odd eyes."

  Skymint’s breath hitched.

  "Found you."

  A chill scraped down my spine.

  Skymint’s hands clenched, his voice raw. "You—you're the anonymous lender. The one bleeding us dry with 'debts.'"

  The Guardian spread his arms, as if welcoming the accusation. "Ah. So you've finally put the pieces together. Did you really think I'd just let it go? She disrupted my operations. Stirred a revolution. She should have paid."

  His smirk widened, cold and glacial. "But what a perfect coincidence, meeting you here—alongside the Ice Princess herself. Imagine the ice bills I could make selling you both."

  I shot to my feet, fury searing through me. "You can't do that to us!"

  His expression flickered—mildly amused, deeply unimpressed. "Oh, princess. I never intended to help you."

  He snapped his fingers.

  The doors burst open.

  Guards flooded the room, their weapons catching the dim light in glints of steel.

  "Bind their hands."

  Cold metal clamped around my wrists.

  Skymint stood frozen, his breath shallow, his mind catching up to the weight of the Guardian’s words. When he spoke, his voice was low, edged in something sharp. "You're no 'Guardian of Polarmen.' Just a greedy lord pretending to help."

  The Guardian chuckled, slow and deliberate. "Oh, what can you do?" He leaned back, studying us like prey already snared. "I’m not letting you go now. Not when the trap has already snapped shut."

  Then his gaze slid to me. Calculating. Amused.

  "As for you, Ice Princess…" His voice dipped, smooth as silk, insidious as frostbite. "I’m offering you a favor."

  I held his gaze, forcing my expression into stillness.

  "If you turn yourself in, I’ll free him. Wipe away his bounty." He tilted his head, watching me like one might a chess piece in play. "Or… if you agree to turn him in, you walk away untouched. You’ll even have my support."

  My stomach twisted. Turn in my savior?

  "This," he mused, amusement threading through his words, "is a taste of power. The kind of decision only a ruler makes—the kind that either benefits you… or haunts you." He leaned in, his shadow swallowing the space between us. "So. Princess. What will it be?"

  Silence stretched, thick as ice, the weight of the guards’ stares pressing against my skin.

  Strategize. Strategize. Play along. Feign weakness. Then, when the moment is right… strike.

  I glanced at Skymint, as if weighing my choice. His eyes burned with unspoken desperation.

  "I'm turning myself in," I said.

  Skymint jerked forward, his voice breaking. "No—you can't! Turn me in instead. Not her!"

  The Guardian scoffed. "I offered her the favor, not you, young Polarman."

  Skymint’s fists clenched. His entire body coiled, muscles taut, the breath in his chest coming sharp, ragged.

  Then something in his eyes changed.

  Something dark.

  Something dangerous.

  A flicker of something I had never seen in him before.

  I swallowed.

  This wasn’t over.