The palace felt so empty without the children.

They had only been at school for a month, and I already felt their absence more sorely than ever before. Not sure exactly what to do with myself on this early autumn day with the Assembly out of session and my daughter dozens of miles away, I stood at the edge of Icicle Hall's back balcony, an autumn breeze ruffling my dark green dress around my ankles. I rested my elbows on the clear, glass railing that surrounded the semicircular, suspended platform, gazing over at the expansive field of grass below me in which the royal children once played. 

Now, with all of the warning signs, barbed wire fences, and ropes that surrounded it, it hardly looked like a place you'd want your kids to be messing around with. The most distinctive mark on the once clear landscape was a closed-off black tunnel, imprinted with the logo of the Scientist Clan's latest undertaking, Project Gateway. From its circular base squat in the middle of the field, perforated by a triple-locked trapdoor, it spiraled so far upward that its roof was nearly level with my feet. Appearance-wise, it was hideous, marring the palace's rebuilt posterior side with its iron supports and harsh, obsidian walls. Yet, this wasn't the only thing about it that didn't sit right with me- something about the entire idea of Gateway left me feeling decidedly uneasy, like Lessaenes was about to go meddling in things that weren't our business...things best left undisturbed. 

I'd been told more than once that I saw the Icehearts everywhere- metaphorically, of course. Everyone assumed that my tendency to be overly cautious, sometimes to the extent of being paranoid, could be attributed to the events of my troubled teenage years, but somehow, I felt like this time, that wasn't the case. Something told me that my unprecedented anxiety about sending Swan away to school and my dread of Sophie's Gateway were, in some inexplicable way, connected. 

And then there was Rhoda Faye. 

An accident- a death- at an elite boarding school...my daughter's elite boarding school. Now, that was too much to digest, both as a princess and as a mother. 

"Wow, I certainly didn't expect to see you up here."

I whirled around instantly, looking for the source of the sarcastic words. In all honestly, I was half expecting to find my mother strolling out of the Sanctum, eyes pulsating with power and King Airel's staff in hand. The person who stood behind me did hold the staff, but he most definitely was not the Ice Queen. 

"Aron," I sighed, almost relieved. "You scared me." 

"Everything scares you these days," he chuckled, tossing the staff carelessly into the air before catching it deftly in one hand. I pursed my lips in disapproval as I watched my husband continue to play with the priceless artifact. "You need to chill out- you're a Gifted princess and a national hero. Nothing about your life's going to fall apart anytime soon." 

"A student was killed at my daughter's school by someone connected to what appears to be a large alien flashlight, and you're asking me to 'chill out'?" I hissed, seating myself on the railing behind me. "I know I should do something about this, I have to do something...I'm just not so sure what that something is." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. For the first time since my childhood, I felt truly powerless. Bringing Swan home to safety would result in not only an interruption to her education but also an unseemly storm of media gossip. Allowing her to stay at the IAYN meant leaving her in the path of potential danger from the mysterious Lights mentioned in the message of Faye's killer, which may or may not have been the same Earthen lights referred to by Gateway.  

"Listen, Vivi," Aron placed his hands firmly on my shoulders and I looked up, my eyes meeting his. He looked down at me with an uncharacteristic depth to his eyes, and if I didn't know him better, I might've even believed he was worried about me. 

"We all know you're a born leader: your way with words and people has always been a million times more impactful than your Aural Gift...no offense to Lumys and King Airel. But sometimes, there aren't rebellions to inspire. There aren't always evil queens to defeat and worlds to save. It's hard, coming from where we do, but sometimes, we just have to learn to let things happen the way they will." Aron paused at the sight of the blank expression on my face, loosening his grip on my shoulder blades. The fact that his point wasn't coming across registered in his eyes, and he sighed deeply. 

"Alright, let me try doing this the way you politicians do," he rolled his eyes, expressing his innate Rhenan aversion to planned rhetoric of any kind. "Here's an example- you know the story of how Lessaenes switched to using English as its official language. It was because some brave patriot didn't start waving an Imperial flag and harping about all the traditions rooted in the Old Lessaenite tongue that we were able to transition to a language with a written script so simple and accessible that it virtually eradicated illiteracy." 

"Change doesn't have to be bad, Vivi, even if that change comes from Earth. I know that we don't have the best history with them, but the old human civilization is dead. This new one with the Lights might not be anything like they were- in fact, they might not even be human. So what if Faye's killer mentioned 'Lights'? There's an infinite number of things in this galaxy that could be considered lights. What are the odds that the two lights are even the same thing, let alone the same malicious thing? The danger to our lives and futures was once very real, as I am sure you remember very well, but that danger passed nearly two decades ago. It's all in your head. I need you to let go." He enunciated his final two words with exaggerated clarity, emphasizing their importance. 

"You're trying to help," I squeezed my eyes shut, hopping off the railing with a targeted burst of Aura. "I know you are- you all are- and thank you for that. You're right: I should stop stressing myself out. We have a justice system that's more than adequately equipped to deal with the repercussions of the Faye incident, and a wise queen to settle any disputes that may arise in the process." 

Aron exhaled, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I'll see you downstairs for dinner, then." 

"Yes," I nodded, turning my head back toward the looming tunnel that led to nowhere. Even after all of Aron's encouragement, I found myself unable to shake a nagging maternal instinct that seemed to warn me of unforeseeable dangers that would come to my daughter. I couldn't wait for the IAYN to release its students for their Autumn Holidays: something told me I wouldn't be able to rest until I saw my Swan in person, safe and sound. Yes, she would be safe at home. 

Letting myself sag into a slump against the cold, metal railing at the sound of Aron's receding footsteps, I shifted my attention to an anonymous CT I hadn't realized I'd received during the heated conversation. The moment my eyes passed over the short message, I froze in shock, a symphony of sounds fighting to escape my clenched throat. Finally, utterly overcome by horror, I shrieked, pressing my whitened fingertips to my lips. 

Nowhere is safe from the Lights ;)