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The man got to his feet slowly, his eyes raking over Fyia's travel-ravaged form. She hadn't stopped to wonder what she must look like—or smell like. She was disheveled, and no doubt reeked of horse. Edu had suggested she wear courtly clothes, so as to be prepared for any eventuality, but she hadn't listened.

She watched the man as he took her in, his form pleasing, with short dark hair, stubble-covered jaw, and curious countenance. He was tall and muscular, although not overly so, and had a weathered look about him that implied he pulled his weight, not relying on others to do all the hard work.

Their eyes met as they finished their respective appraisals, and her chest fluttered, then went tight. They stood like that for a beat, two, something about him niggling at her consciousness.

'It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty,' said the royal woman, interrupting their joint reverie.

Fyia hadn't even realized the woman had stood, but she didn't miss the provoking look the woman sent to the man—the King, presumably. Was she his sister? His wife?

'It is a pleasure to meet you too,' said Fyia, inclining her head. 'Forgive me, but I do not know your names.'

Fyia's escort cleared his throat. 'This is King Atlas …'

'Yes, yes,' said the King. 'And this is my cousin, Princess Zhura.'

'Distant cousin,' said the slight woman, sending him a testy look. She had long, dark hair and a way of moving that hinted at power. 'Like … so removed I'm sure everyone else out there in the snow is also a princess by the same measure.'

The King rolled his eyes. 'She does not appreciate her title.'

'If you're such a distant relation, then why do you have a title at all?' said Fyia.

'A good question,' said Zhura, with a half-smile.

A puppy rushed to Fyia's feet, and she scooped it up with a laugh. 'Oh my word, these are the most adorable …' The puppy licked her face, and she held it away. 'Urgh, no licking.' She set it back on the floor and crouched to pet it there instead.

She looked up to find the King watching her, something indeterminate about his lips, and she straightened.

'Why are you here?' said the King. His directness took her by surprise, although she wasn't sure why.

'You do not know?'

'I have my suspicions, although I prefer not to jump to conclusions.' His tone was hostile. Had she offended him? Was he angry she'd waltzed into his territory without an invitation? Or had her picking up the puppy been some kind of transgression … people could be touchy about their animals …

'I am here, Your Majesty, because I believe there is a way to restore prosperity to your kingdom and mine.'

'We are prosperous enough,' he said hotly. Although, a shadow of something less certain crossed his cousin's features.

'I don't doubt it. The Black Hoods are revered throughout the known world as a formidable force, but what if we could do more? What if we could melt the ice? What if we could make it easier on your people and mine?'

'You truly believe returning the dragons will do that?' he said, his tone scathing.

Fyia stood still for a moment, holding her ground. 'Yes.'

'The dragons are gone,' he said, dismissively, 'and even if they were not, you will never unite the Five Great Kingdoms.'

Fyia took a moment to collect herself … of course he knew the true legend. She supposed it had been arrogant to assume it applied only to the Five Eastern Kingdoms … although, in her defense, that was what she'd always been told. 'And why is that?' said Fyia.

'You will never unite the Five Kingdoms, because I will never unite the Five Kingdoms. You and your people cannot be trusted. You are a force of destruction, and oppression, and discrimination. That is why the Fae'ch—all magic users—were run out of your lands. That is why … well, that is why your lands are like they are. I would never align my people with yours; it would be a grave injustice against them.'

Fyia's temper flared. 'How can you say that, when I am a magic user? Fire-touched, magic-touched, and with a Cruaxee? The very purpose of conquering my kingdoms was to bring about change … to put an end to the things that so offend you … that so offend me! Do you believe a land cannot change? Will you judge me by the actions of those I have overthrown?'

'Have you though?' said the King.

'What do you imply?' Fyia said quietly. His words stole the wind from her sails. 'Speak plainly, so we may not misunderstand one another.'

The King gave a short, derisive laugh. 'I imply nothing. You have held the reins of power for not even three cycles of the moon, and yet already your people—the people you seem to believe you can change—rebel in your streets. If you cannot control your own lands—your own people—how do you expect to form a union with mine?'

'A union can be many things,' said Fyia.