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Inside rests a compass unlike any I’ve ever seen. The face is made of polished moonstone, and instead of pointing north, its needle spins slowly in a steady circle, trailing frost in its wake.

“The Stillpoint Compass,” my father explains. “It was your mother’s most prized possession. It’s the twin of a compass hidden in the Summer Court—the Astral Compass.”

I stare at it, ice crystals forming in the air around us. “What does it do?” I ask, studying it closer, as if it can tell me itself.

“It freezes time,” he says, and I quickly look from the compass back to him.

“That’s not possible,” I say. Because freezing time… a power that strong is unheard of.

If he’s telling the truth, then why not use it earlier? Unless hehasbeen using it for all these years? Although that wouldn’t make sense, since he certainly would have used it when we faced off in the Frost Arena…

“I’d demonstrate its capabilities, but you’re going tohave to try for yourself when you need it, because the compass can only be used once per moon cycle,” he continues. “Set it out on the nights of the full moon, and it will recharge, ready for the next time you’ll need it.”

Well, I suppose that answers why he didn’t use it in the arena. It likely wasn’t “charged.” Otherwise, he surely would have used it to kill me before I had a chance to defend myself.

I’d like to think my father wasn’tthatmuch of a monster, but it wouldn’t have been the first time his madness drove him into doing the unthinkable. Because killing someone like that—while they’re frozen in time—isn’t an honorable kill. It’s a slaughter. A cold-blooded execution. It’s the sort of kill meant for a beast—not for a man.

“Why are you giving this to me now?” I eventually ask, choosing to keep my thoughts to myself. I can discuss those with Sapphire later in the carriage.

No one understands me like she does. No one ever will. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m not giving it to you as your king,” he says quietly. “I’m giving it to you as your father. One who finally sees his son.”

Something shifts between us—a crack in the ice that’s separated us for decades. It’s not forgiveness. Not yet. There are too many scars, too many years of pain and absence. But it’s a start.

“It’s an honor,” I say, the words inadequate, but all I can manage.

He nods once, understanding more than I say. And as I turn to leave, his hand catches my arm.

“Riven,” he says. “Your mother would be proud of the man you’ve become. Not because you defeated me—but because you did it withoutbecomingme.”

The words hit harder than any blow he’s ever landed in combat.

I don’t trust myself to speak. So, I simply nod once, closing the lid and slipping the box into my pocket. And as I rejoin Sapphire at the carriage, the compass’s magic buzzes through me like a living thing.

I suspect she feels my tumult of emotions through our soul bond, but she doesn’t pry.

Instead, she simply takes my hand, her magic curling around mine in silent support as we step inside the carriage and get ready to head off.

RIVEN

As the carriagedoor closes and Ghost settles at my feet, I finally allow myself to exhale.

“Are you okay?” Sapphire asks quietly, her fingers intertwined with mine.

I look at her—at this woman who defied gods for me, who refused to let me drown in my own coldness, and who refused to let me sacrifice myself for her—and the ice in my soul melts a little more with every breath she shares with me.

“I am now,” I tell her, squeezing her hand in affirmation.

A sharp rap on the carriage door interrupts the moment. I recognize the pattern immediately—three quick taps followed by two slower ones. Only one person in the entire Winter Court knocks like that.

“Come in, Calder,” I call, and the door swings open,revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with silver-streaked black hair tied back in a severe knot.

His normally sharp features break into a rare smile when he sees me.

“Your Highness.” Calder bows his head, the formality in his tone offset by the amused glint in his frosty eyes. “Or should I say, Your Victorious, Battle-Hardened, Father-Defeating Majesty?”

Despite everything, I can’t help but smile. Calder has been my combat instructor since I was old enough to hold a sword. He’s seen me at my worst—bloodied, broken, and defeated. But he’s also seen me rise, again and again.