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“Since the White Bear’s rebellion, the magic of Winter’s Realm has been in a terrible flux. Of course, it’s always winter here—in varying forms of the season—but not always snow and ice for turns on end.”

“Do you ever see grass? Or is it just lighter snow?” I gestured out the window where heavy piles of white fluff lined the streets.

“When I was younger, each turn we had a string of moons when the land was bare of snow and it rained heavily. During those times, it was still colder than any other kingdom in Isila, but we managed to grow a few key crops. More recently, the snow is ever-present, which is why we’ve had to innovate more than ever with greenhouses and earth magic. The storms have grown more violent too.”

The seasonal courts predominantly experienced their own seasons. So in this court, for most of the year, it would be some form of winter, whether that be doused with rain or snow or merely frigid outside. When the summer sun arrived in the Blood, Dragon, Mage, Wolvea, or Elvish Courts, here it would remain much cooler than any other area in the nine kingdoms. As someone who’d experienced four seasons her whole life, I found it to be an odd concept, but the magic worked that way. It always had.

“Does anyone know why the magic is off?” I asked.

Roar cast another look around and resumed his attention on me. “During King Magnus’s rebellion against King Harald Falk, a Hallow of our land called the Ice Scepter was stolen. The king doesn’t like to talk about it, but most of the Sacred Eight have agreed that was what happened. No one has seen it since the rebellion.”

“And that regulates magic?”

“Yes. It might have impacted the blight and the magical prowess of fae born since then. Similar things have happened in other kingdoms before. The Spring Court being one.”

“Really? How so?”

“Since the Shadow Fae War, a good number of faeries and other winged fae there have been born without wings. It’s said that the Spring Court underwent a flux of magic, and nothing has been the same since. Much like here, when the Ice Scepter went missing.”

“So a powerful flux can change us,” I murmured, astounded by what I’d just learned.

Roar lifted one shoulder. “Most are only sure that the Hallow’s disappearance has affected our weather. Many actually believe the blight to be a separate issue, an illness of some sort.”

“Why have they not tried to find the Ice Scepter? That would settle matters, wouldn’t it?”

He arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure they have. Magnus would desire it above all else, as he is of royal blood and can wield it.”

“That’s a requirement? If you sit on the throne, you can wield it?”

“Tales say that Falk blood, specifically, is required. King Magnus is our ruler, yes, but he is also a Falk bastard by birth. The blood is strong in him.” Roar let out an unamused laugh. “Of course, he’s by no means the only noble who can claim Falk blood. The Sacred Eight have married and joined families for generations. Even my family married into the royal Falk house right before the Unification. Most notably, Tore Lisika wed Sassa Falk, fought in her name too.”

“So, there might be lots of fae who could use it.” I hummed.

“No one knows if that requirement is true, or if it’s rumored that the wielder of the Ice Scepter must have Falk blood in their veins. They’ve had the Scepter since Isila was created. Some say that it was a gift from the gods-turned-stars.”

My eyes widened. In Isila, it was widely known that all magic came from the stars, gifted to other magical orders by the angels. Additionally, some of the oldest fae, and maybe vampires though they never offered such information to slaves, believed that the stars responsible for magic’s creation were once gods. That they now slumbered. Or had died.

I’d never been sure what to think. Never had a chance to talk with a fae who would know the most about such a subject, such as a High Staret. Did Roar believe such a thing?

“Whatever the case,” he went on, “the Falks never let anyone else test it out. So it might as well just be a matter of raw power. As the last wielder and those closest to him were all killed, no one can be sure.”

“What if the king gets the Hallow back, and the rumor isn’t true? What would happen?”

“I cannot say. Until the White Bear, the Falks ruled this land since the Unification. Before that, they were among the most powerful kings and queens in this realm. The scepter belonged to them even then.”

I dipped my spoon into the stew and soaked in his words. Whoever stole the Hallow put those in Winter’s Realm through decades of hard times.

We ate for a while longer in contented silence. I pondered the idea of a missing Hallow, while Roar seemed happy to have time to be quiet. Though I had not been traveling amongst the soldiers, the walls of the sleigh were thin, so we heard their chatter all day long.

When we cleaned our bowls and finished the bread, Galfu appeared. “Anything else, Warden? My lady?”

“Neve?” Roar gazed at me.

“I’m alright.” I shook my head. “The soup was delicious. Thank you.”

“Anything for the Warden of the West and his betrothed.” Galfu cleaned the table.

Roar reached a hand across the wood. “Would you like to see more of the town?”