Elemental threads quivered around her, pulled so tautly by the tension in air that Astrid squeezed her eyes shut again.

"This must be my funeral."

Her head fell back against the wooden post of her bed. At some point in her restless night, she had knocked all the pillows onto the floor. Now, they lay scattered about the bear rug. Her favorite white, furred cloak even hung in a messy clump from the chandelier of torches that hung from the ceiling.

Astrid blamed the wind element for that one.

What minor control she had over the threads had been ruined to smithereens ever since Sebastian had messed with the Monverta. Throughout the night, the elements had clawed at her cuff, wound around every muscle and sinew in her body, begging to be used. To be called upon. Their voices had sounded like a grating whisper that clawed at her skin. She was sure that had been when the throwing of the pillows had started.

Curse you, fisherboy.

Quick, pounding footsteps reverberated above her head as the servants and guards jousted about. Astrid glanced at the light coming from beneath the heavy drapes of her window. Surely it was too early for so much noise. Heavy thuds like someone juggling iron pots and pans, though very poorly, she may add. Muffled voices, shouts, exclamations coming from the Halorian Square outside her window. She imagined the people awaking to find part of the fortress singed off in a heap of rubble.

Her mother was going to murder her.

Whatever had happened last night certainly hadn't been in their plans.

Astrid swore again and had just opted to jump out her window when her doors swung open.

She scrambled upright, pulling her duvet to her chest as Matthias forced his way into her rooms. And he truly did have to force his entry. Her wardrobe blocked part of the doorway. Astrid couldn't quite recall when she had done that.

"Didn't you think of announcing yourself first, Captain?"

His gaze was dark and sharp when they fell upon her undoubtedly exhausted and ashy demeanor. She hadn't even bathed after she and Sebastian had blown up the keep. Matthias scowled at the scrape across her cheek.

"Her Majesty has requested your presence on the precipice balcony."

Astrid's intestines clenched and twisted. She didn't have to see Matthias's stiff expression to realize that an official summons to the precipice balcony would not be at all good. Not for her, anyways. Queen Davina only ever graced the highest balcony of the fortress to project royal proclamations to the Halorian people. The last one had been when her mother had mandated a curfew five years previously when Soleitian terrorists had breached Rainier's coastline.

It would mean more rules. Restrictions. Laws to further protect Davina's kingdom from falling apart. It could decimate the meager freedom Astrid was allowed. Which meant something had made her mother furious.

She had a suspicious inkling as to what it had been.

"This is about last night, isn't it?"

Matthias's jaw clenched, the muscles of his throat flexing in quick succession. He was keeping something from her, that much was obvious, but she wasn't about to beg him to tell her.

"Of course it is," she muttered to herself. "I suppose I should wear something appropriate for facing one's executioner."

"Astrid." His tight eyes roamed over her dressing gown with a pointed look. "The queen requests your presence. Now."

Astrid frowned at him but scrambled to recover her gear she'd shucked off the day before. Her cloak was the most difficult to untangle from the chandelier. Matthias made an impatient sound, as if her messy room personally offended him, and he stalked to the doors, one hand already on the handle.

The harried noises intensified when Astrid emerged from her rooms with Matthias. It was odd, however, because the noises weren't actually loud. Instead, she felt the intensity in the way two of the guards pressed their lips as she passed in the hallway. In the way a maid stumbled over her motions of dusting one of the many tapestries and muttered something about a water sprite hiding in the plumbing. Astrid looked back at her, the maid's eyes glossed over, a confused frown on her plump face.

Water sprites? But that was impossible. Sure, she knew they existed--had existed--but now? In Rainier? There was no other magic than herself. Barely a memory of it. Unless...she remembered the light that had exploded from her mother's book underneath her and Sebastian's hands. How that light had blown a hole in the roof and destroyed the room.

What if it hadn't been simply light?

Astrid glanced at Matthias. His fingers curled over the hilt of his sword that hung from his waist, knuckles stark and white. She remembered his wide-eyed expression as he'd asked, "Do you have any idea what you two have done?"

A sour taste pooled in the back of her throat.

She was nearly gagging on it by the time Matthias drew her to stop in front of the heavy, oak doors that led into Queen Davina's personal sitting room. Beyond the room, she knew the view which always sent her head spinning beneath the many confinements that sheltered her: the dazzling floor-to-ceiling glass panels that showed the open air beyond the fortress walls. The dizzying two kilometer drop of the sheer stone wall of the mountain. The freedom kept from her by transparent glass that should be far more fragile than herself, yet she was never able to breach it.

Matthias unsheathed his blade and used the hilt to rap a series of knocks into the double doors before pushing one of them open.

The cuff around her arm tightened so abruptly that Astrid gasped. It dragged her attention to where the Monverta lay. She stared at it, faltering in her steps. It was propped up on an empty shelf built into the rocky walls of her mother's sitting area.

"Can you imagine what I felt this morning, daughter?"

This was what it must have felt like for historical prisoners to walk to the guillotine.

Astrid swallowed and forced her gaze from the pulsating book to where Davina sat on a rather understated couch. The fire in the grate flickered behind her. It cast eerie shadows over the hollows of her collarbone. This was the queen that only Astrid knew and saw, and rarely at that. Her mother's essence sat quietly among the room, her thin lips contemplative, icy eyes narrowed and shrewd. It felt as if even the very air paused, holding its breath, freezing around Davina's willowy frame.

"I would think nothing particularly pleasant."

As soon as the words left her impulsive mouth, Astrid winced. The fact that the Monverta lay here was proof enough that her mother had already wandered through the wreckage of her Keep. It was most unwise to needle her so unnecessarily this day.

"Mother, I must apologize—"

Davina held up a hand. "I thought I had made it clear that you were to stay in your chambers. It appears I did not speak clearly enough." Davina's eyes flashed, a crack erupting among a frozen lake. "I had hoped this could have been avoided, but here we are. You and that boy have forced my hand, and I cannot promise it will end well."

Beneath her heavy gear, Astrid's erratic heart beat. "If there is an end, something must have begun. What is it?"

"You are no longer simply an Iced Guard—" She waved her wrist towards the corner of the room—"I had Madame Mavis work through the night to sew such a piece. It arrived only right before you did."

Confused, Astrid followed the direction of her mother's gaze. She was surprised she hadn't noticed it sooner. An exquisitely ornate gown draped over the bust of a mannequin. It shimmered and sparkled as the flames from the grate twisted upwards, sending prisms of color along the walls and floor. Astrid couldn't help but stare. The dress was regal, following all the trends of the court, yet it was more than any dress she had ever seen before. More than she had ever worn. It swayed with the lightest breeze, shifting between whites, grays, and blues as shadows and light roamed around the long train. It was an icicle in constant formation, caught between the rising morning sun and moon's night.

The sight of it sent a lump of dread straight to her stomach.

"What is this?"

Astrid touched the fabric as one would a poisonous flower. It felt as light as air, the silk slipping through her fingers.

"It's very similar to my own coronation gown. I wanted you to have something memorable, and it will do well for the kingdom to be reminded of the good my reign has done on this day."

"Coronation?"

Queen Davina's serenity tightened. Astrid's cuff responded, clamping around her bicep. She felt out of control, spiraling, falling through the mountain into the molten core of the earth. Astrid could imagine what she would emerge as: an image of her mother, shackled to this fortress, chasing ghosts, dripping in the ashes of her dreams that had gone up in flames.

The slightest grin tickled the corners of Davina's lips. Astrid was startled at that. "But...I'm not meant to exist," Astrid countered, breathless from the attack her mother was dealing to her. "You claimed it was safer for Soleita to think your child died in the womb. Safer for Rainier. Safer for me."

A subtle hint of jealousy flashed in the depths of her mother's eyes."That is a risk we now must accept. As I said, you forced my hand, Astrid. Today will be your introduction to the kingdom. Have you not heard the commotion this morning? The whisperings? The cries of the alarm when Halorians awoke to impossible memories."

Astrid blinked. "Memories?"

Davina sighed, rising to her feet. She stroked a finger down the spine of the Monverta before approaching Astrid. She tapped Astrid's copper cuff once and then fixed her with an open stare that would have looked vulnerable on anyone else but somehow sent Astrid into another uncontrollable free-fall.

"Magic returned to our kingdom last night."

The slap landed just as her mother had intended. Astrid's head spun with the force of it. "That isn't possible."

Davina dropped her hand, resting it instead on the slender sleeve of the coronation dress. "Whatever you and that meddlesome boy did last night released the book's memory of elemental magic. Our people are now in panic. It is my duty to provide solace, an explanation worthy of such solace, and that explanation must be you. My daughter. A young woman with the elements living in her very veins. They will see you as a miracle if I present you as such. You will provide the living proof of the memories now running rampant through Halorium and beyond."

It felt as if the ground rocked beneath her feet. "And what of my Icicles? Who will lead them?"

There was no pity to her mother's words as she said, "You were given charge over those sentinels to keep you entertained, Astrid. They were never meant to be your sole responsibility. Matthias will take them, and you will behave like the royal daughter I have raised you to be."

Her mother snapped her fingers; it made the same noise Astrid imagined every bone in her body would make as her mother forced her into this role. The role of a princess. Queen Davina's daughter. It was a role Astrid had hoped to never wear.

She stumbled away from the dress just as Madame Mavis, Halorium's most sought-after seamstress, waltzed through the door. Her long, white hair swayed to-and-fro as she tugged a large trunk into the room behind her. Astrid balked, knowing what it would contain: elixirs, powders, color palettes that would enhance her and provide an appearance of beauty.

Astrid was sure she was going to be sick.

Davina must have greeted Madame Mavis, but all Astrid heard was the wind. It rushed through her. A chaotic white noise that buzzed through her ears like a horde of hornets. She jumped when her mother grabbed her by the shoulder. It probably looked motherly. It felt like a trap.

"After last night, you owe nothing less than this. Remember that," Davina said before she offered Madame Mavis a courteous nod. "Will half-an-hour suffice?"

The master seamstress nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Her mother didn't spare Astrid another glance as she swept from the room.

It wasn't difficult for Madame Mavis to conduct two maids to bring Astrid into her mother's personal bathing chamber. For the first time in her life, Astrid wasn't sure who or what to fight. Her limbs went limp as soap descended upon her, as water poured over her pruned skin, and brushes fell upon her hair and face. She barely choked on the voluminous powder dusted across her cheeks because she couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a breath.

As if in a nightmare, she felt the watery fabric of the dress fall over her chest and hips. It twirled around her waist as the seamstress tugged at the back laces, cinching her into it in a way that felt inescapable. This was a new prison. A prison that was fortified even further when Mavis announced, "Aw. Now you are a sight ready to behold."

Like she hadn't been worthy before this moment. Astrid's fingers curved into fists as Mavis twirled her to face a standing mirror against the far wall.

At first, the sight was easy to behold. After all, Astrid could hardly recognize the woman staring back at her. Where Astrid preferred to be dull, she was suddenly glowing with magnificence. Her blue eyes shone against her rosy cheeks that were usually pale. Her hair, always falling out of its plaited crown, was now hanging in stiff curls down her back, blue and white ribbons threaded throughout it.

Anger rushed her so quickly it left her dizzy. She knew what her mother tried to do; made up in this way, Astrid looked like the image of innocence. Youth. Harmless. Like her mother before the Purge hardened her.

"You are not weak," she hissed at the reflection.

"I should hope not."

Astrid turned from the mirror as her mother re-entered. Not used to wearing such billowy outfits, she stumbled over the long hem of the gown. Davina pursed her lips before handing a simple black box to Madame Mavis who opened it. Lying inside was a tiara crowned with polished sapphires and diamonds. The diamonds stood tall, carved into the shapes of sparkling icicles. They grew out from the delicate golden band, and Astrid imagined the entire thing would melt like ice if thrown into a fire.

"This was mine at your age, so mind your posture whilst wearing it. Your father made it for me long ago." A wistful tone accompanied these words, as it so often did the rare times Davina spoke of Niklaus.

Mavis strategically placed the tiara atop Astrid's head, weaving it amongst the curls and ribbons.

It weighed heavily.

Her mother clasped her hands together. "Now, for the second piece of my explanation. Captain Soiree, if you will."

Not willing to imagine what next horror would walk through those doors, Astrid sagged with relief when Matthias only guided Sebastian into the room. Which was strange, considering it was he who had gotten her into this mess. But watching the way his hazel eyes flitted from her to Queen Davina and back again, the way his hands wrung together in front of him, the way he'd been dressed in thick gray trousers and a billowy silver shirt that somehow matched her gown, Astrid had the thought they were now, however unwillingly, in this together.

She just had time to share a look with him before her mother said, "Astrid, I trust you to explain. Consider it your first royal duty. I must check on the preparations of the precipice. I shall see you both there."

As soon as the three of them were left alone, Astrid rounded on Matthias. "I thought Melvin was in charge of his guard."

Matthias didn't bat an eyelash at her new look, but she felt Sebastian's gaze. It brought goosebumps to her arms and legs. "He is," Matthias replied, "as well as three others. But this situation is...delicate."

"Does one fisherboy really need that many guards?"

"Considering how he blew up half a tower, I would say he needs an army."

Sebastian looked between them, returning to Astrid and her tiara. "You said you were one of the Iced Guards."

Matthias scowled, but Astrid's fingers knotted into the dangling ends of her dress's laces.

"I am—I was—but I suppose I'm also now this." The disgust in her tone was evident. "Thanks to you."

Sebastian's gaze drifted down her dress. "I wasn't aware Queen Davina had a daughter."

"Of course not. No one was meant to know."

His eyes squinted, and he rubbed the spot on the bridge of his nose where his spectacles usually sat. "But...why?"

This boy and his never ceasing questions! It frayed on her already worn nerves. "By the Scribes, Seabass, why do you think? My mother fought to stop Soleita and their Scribes from stealing Rainier's magic! If they found out their enemy had a daughter who could use the elements, what do you think would happen?"

Confusion raged across his face in a battle to understand.

"You only have a few moments more," Matthias warned.

Astrid picked up her skirts and rushed to the window, pulling apart the lacy curtains. She couldn't see anything of what her mother planned from this vantage point. She swore and turned back to Sebastian.

"We released the Monverta's magic last night, and this is how my mother will punish us." She tossed a dirty look at Matthias. "But of course, you already knew that, 'Thias. What memories do you now harbor? You were what, about seven years old? Old enough to remember something, at least."

Matthias's look was steady. "I've been around you all my life. Magic is hardly a surprise to me."

Astrid snorted, but she still noticed the bundle of bandages peeking out from Matthias's armor at his wrist. "What happened to you?

His hand gripped his forearm for a half-second. "Training accident."

Astrid wasn't sure she believed that, but she turned back to Sebastian regardless. His cheeks were so pale she had half-a-thought to bring in Master Mavis to powder him up. "This must be a lot for you. It is for me, too. All I know is my mother has something up her sleeve, and she's using this coronation to mask it."

"We're in trouble, aren't we?"

"Undoubtedly." She looked him over and then reached out quickly to pinch his cheeks.

He pushed at her hands. "What was that for?"

She had a mad, nervous urge to laugh. "You looked like death. I've seen people do that before to liven themselves back up."

Matthias tapped his boots against the floor. "Time to go."

In desperation, she grabbed Sebastian by the sleeve and yanked him towards her. "Hide your emotions," she snapped at him. "Control your questions."

"Why?"

"If I'm not allowed to be myself, neither can you," she retorted.

His jaw hinged open, most likely to ask another question, but she brushed past him. "Lead the way, then, Captain Soiree." 

_ _ _

Thank you for reading! Whatever does Davina  have up her sleeve now? Tune in to the next chapter to find out! 

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